Forgettable

Time, please send these words to the me in the past, in that exact life-changing time line. Make sure these words reach my eyes by all means, as an obvious warning, obvious enough to stop my foolish action.  I'm sitting here, exhausted, hating you for bringing me all the way here. Don't go to the sea every weekend. Two trains, sitting, nine hours one direction, two buses. You know you hate the feeling of not having enough sleep, don't you? So exhausting that you don't know how to express that feeling in words, do you? Quit it, don't go there every weekend, your exhaustion is the universe trying to save you from your silly life-risking decision. Stop going there, please, you're going to hell, you shouldn't do it when it causes you that level of exhaustion. Go home, don't go there anymore. You always cut the connection, don't get blinded by all those numbers, glamour whatever. Your feeling is the only thing you should follow or pursue. Don't go the...

Woke up by the noise at 4 AM. I forced myself to get up, to do the unfinished chores, to cook the pumpkin for my lunchbox. I chopped some garlic and onion, then peeled the pumpkin, remove the seeds, cut it to small cubes. No big enough frying pan or wok, so I just put the garlic and onion into the soup pot, stirred a bit with oil and salt, then added the pumpkin, stirred a bit, then covered the pot, let it simmer for 15 minutes. This sort of pumkin is rich in water, no extra water was added. When the it was cooked, I got half pot of liquid, I sliced some fresh basil I planted in the pot, added it on top. Meanwhile I cleaned the mess left on the counter, the table, the floor. Everyone deserves a cleaning robot. Then I brewed a cup of coffee from the ground beans, that aroma was pleasant. When I rushed out at 8 minutes to 11 AM. I forgot to take my lunchbox. The pumpkin waited for me at the counter, stayed untouched for whole day. I'd eat it tomorrow, too tired to eat anything at nig...

My tree has lots of branches. Branches are from the earth, different continents of the earth. I love caressing my tree's branches, same hand, same way, only for my tree. If my eyes are folded, branches of other trees reaching out for my hand, the moment I figured out it's not my tree, I'd break those branches and burn them to ashes.   I love my tree, long, more. I caress only my tree. 

I've moved around in this tiny space barefoot for years, because in those eyes, their precious wooden floor from the previous dynasty is more valuable than my feet. Anyway, it's not my home or residence, I couldn't afford to have the shoes I bought being tossed, so I let it be. I've endured the tiny dirt on from the floor to my bare feet since five years ago, I hate that feeling, I hate to walk around without shoes, I hate to put on socks with dirt before I rush out. This year, I got a deep and big chapping in my right foot, I couldn't take it anymore. Two days ago, I saw a pair of sandals with solid bottom, I decided to buy them. If they were tossed, I'd buy again. I never expected one day, I could walk around with solid bottoms, to keep my feet warm and clean. I'm so proud of myself, I survived all these years to experience this day.  

Every time I stand here to charge my phone, the song A Thousand Years plays. The song sings "Darling don't be afraid", "I love you for a thousand more", "All along I believe I'll find you". Over those past thousands years, how many times have we met? Could we recognise every version of us together in the long history river of humankind? Maybe in those past thousand years, we were not together, or happily ever after, we simply loved so hard, so we meet again and again until today.  This time, how the story will go? If you have a pen/pencil that can create whatever you want in real life through the pen/pencil tip, which kind of story will you write for us in this lifetime? 

At 5:55 PM, I open the door to get some fresh air, a bright silver moon is on the right side, behind the tree branches, on top of a building.  Hi, moon, how are you? All you going to be full again soon?

I was surprised again when the cashier said something to me for, like two or three minutes. With a smile on her face. I didn't get what she said at all, she asked some questions, I guessed, but she said a lot to me. All I could do was smiling and nodding. Wait, didn't netizens say people were quite serious, they never did small chats at the cashier?  It's the same doubt as I have for the well-known stereotype whenever I hear people are laughing literally "hahaha" loudly while chatting. Sometimes, I feel like I'm more like the locals they describe—who never smiles, who always makes a long face in the public. Is it a made-up stereotype or the world just shows up differently to me? 

I've been freaked out for days since I saw the 999 parking there, in the sacred place where all the two P means P not R.  Not until that day, I waited for the green light, a M111PP BMW passed by. So straight forward, in case my overthinking took over the original meaning it wanted to deliver to me. As I continue walking on the streets, I randomly glanced at some 222, then a H444OK. Thay day in the afternoon, a lovely pink horizon was behind the bare trees. The -1°C air cleansed my lungs. All the noise from a busy road was mute. I looked up to that pink for some seconds. I didn't feel cold. You can call it sunset. But there's a p in pink as well, isn't it? At night, a sunflower-yellow crescent moon was in the dark sky, unbelievable big, like a half of cheddar cheese wheel. I bursted into laughter. Ah, moon it's you, showing up right ahead of me, to check how I was doing. I know, I know you're still there. I'm alright. I'm gathering my strength to learn to...

If the flying car was released sooner, if flying cars become common sooner. I should've still had my mom. 

I listened to that same old song the other day, I heard something I didn't in the past. So the singer says he plays no games. The door is opened. Yeah, the door was wide opened in your room three seasons ago when the last time I saw you. Yeah, of course you play no games, how can you play it if you're the game itself, you just open the door, simle a warm smile, bow and say いらっしゃいませ, and place the start button there for licks.  I ain't playing no games, never. I'm the most serious of all time. 

There it is, "no.6 hot chick" at the bottom of that lipstick, for big lips. I stopped looking for other colors and paid. It looks perfect on my lips, with the glossy texture. Take care of your lips in autumn, dry season.

I'm  The 999 angel number is a spiritual sign that a major life cycle, project, or relationship has reached its natural completion and closure .   Core Meanings Completion and Graduation: In numerology, the number 9 represents the end of a cycle. Seeing three 9s together amplifies this energy, signaling that you have learned the lessons of your current phase and are ready to move on. Release and Letting Go: It encourages you to drop old habits, toxic patterns, or past grief that no longer serve your growth. Preparation for New Beginnings: An ending is not a final stop; it clears the emotional and physical space required for a fresh chapter to start. Meaning in Different Areas Love and Relationships: It may mean outgrowing a dynamic, forgiving past hurts, or preparing to transition into a more aligned partnership.   Career and Purpose: You might be wrapping up a demanding job, finishing a big project, or shifting toward a more meaningful vocation. Twin Flames: It of...

My forgettable   is a menu for the least expressive introvert. How to use the menu? Two ways: 1. Choose several titles that match your today's vibe, then I can prepare a today's special, exclusively for your mind.  2. Express your today's special hidden vibe by clicking the corresponding titles. To tell the possible internal circumstances in silence. Very convient, right? No words is needed to be created by oneself, just borrow the existing words.  Hopefully the menu is thick enough to make a clear declaration, instead of some obscure  metaphors. Obscurity is not in this menu. Nevertheless, a creative mind can always make use of everything to construct the beautifully-hard-to-understand obscurity, a born skill no one can copy. According to today's selection, here is today's special:  I miss you so much, my love. Yeah, they are me, a part of me escaping my physical existence, running all the way to get closer you. I love you, more than any words can bewrite. I lo...

The early spring temperature comes back. The dry shrubs feel it, so they sprout again. They don't know the definition of four seasons, they can't see the golden trees around them shaking off their leaves in cold gale. They simply feel the air temperature is suitable for rebirth, so they just sprout naturally. They don't know the next season is not scorching summer, but freezing winter.  Don't think about what will happen to the sprouts, don't tell them please don't sprout the winter is cold. Think about as long as the roots exist, they will eventually become verdant in spring.

The road has two lanes, of opposite directions. When I was on the right lane. A m555mm passed by, paused in front of me for the green light. I walked across the road to the left side, another 555 drove past.  At late night, on the road, a 555 parked exactly at the entrance to darkness, as if this whole day, some one's job is to make sure I see it and keep in mind. Something is happening.

Today is 10/10/10(2+0+2+6), my body chose to get fully recovered from the fever and runny nose exactly today. 

I made a record of the piercing cold, the day after, something somehow heard it, now the heating pipe is slowly warming up.  Everyone has the preference to react to things. Silence is considered as one of the reactions. But the fact is, if it is never been told, nobody or nothing knows. Don't bring up the brainwave-reading, I'm talking about the traditional human to human interactions. How you feel matters, just say it out loud, rend the silence. You'll get response if you say it, but if you say nothing, I respect the decision on rotting the either extreme importance or tiny triviality inside somewhere no one else knows. I feel truly blessed to live till the day to see the half-rupture silence. I pray for the day to see the fully-collapsed silence, in the dimension I'm in.   

It is not lovesick, not lovesick, not lovesick. It is just a fever who arrives at the coincidental timing. Factors, multiple factors caught the cold for her. The freezing cold night, the hard-to-naturally-dry pyjamas, sweaters, thick pants, the thin quilt cover. She thought she could just fall asleep and waited until she opened her eyes in the morning to put on her coat. But last night, her body refused to cooperate to sleep, she coughed, she got blocked a nose, she curled under the quit cover–without a blanket inside. She just couldn't sleep. So she put her freezing cold hand on her bare leg, her feet were frozen, but she didn't know the smooth leg skin was cold as an ice cube. They say exercise can generate heat, so she did some solo while she mind went there to search for some warmth in the promised hug. Soon, she was overwhelmed by the devastating sadness in reality of having nothing beside her, and burst into tears as always, at the peak. She curled up like a C again, star...

Every day, we see different posts of people around the world proposing in various places. As someone who has never been proposed to feel the weight of a ring, those are good samples for me to build a brief understanding of proposal in my consciousness. And thanks for showing me that the top of a hill can be a spot for a proposal as well, the happy tight hug radiating in the orange sunrays. So next time when my mind flies to a hill again, it may see that moment of happily-ever-after rather than other stuff. Although being an insulator to all those beautiful scenarios/words, just by knowing they can exist elsewhere, I feel a moment of relief. 

What should I feel now? What do I feel now? I am not able to feel. The brain is mixing a salad with all the feelings that have been defined and not-defined, without my consent. Eat it, enjoy, the brain invites me to sit at the table and have a bite. But all I want to do is to flip the table. This salad is beyond my digestive system. There is joy, which should be picked out in the gloomy month of loss, grief, regret.  There is fear, which should be excluded in a long road ahead if I want to keep going. There is doubt, which is an eraser to the class of learning to trust. There is confusion about how come I'm here today, about why it has to be done like this?  There is much more, my words can't express it all. I can't even step back to observe myself. I close my eyes. There is the clutching heart. The blocked nose.  Then, the mind flies to the stone-paved circle on top of a hill. Where all expired flesh were sliced, bones were chopped, to be taken to the higher realms by th...