Hannover, Germany

This is my second day living in Hannover. Just after I had a lot of strange dreams last night, I quickly made myself a breakfast, and decided to clean up this spiderweb blog. It hurts me to stop writing, but it hurts me even more to keep on writing this. Sometimes it just stabs me a thousand of times when I tried to read through my older posts again, while almost no one knows this blog exists at all. Then what's the point of continuous record of tragedies and short memories?

At some points of life, I am always reminded to come back to this. Like someone would slap you and grab you onto the chair, and force you to face your life again. I suppose I really don't need a reason for myself to coming back, right?

Today is the 9th of July, the 7th day of my Germany journey. First of all, congratulation to the Germany football team. I didn't watch the game, sorry, I was sleeping, dead like a corpse... Wait a minute, I think that explains my dreams... I woke up in the middle of the night, I believed its 4:xx and the sky was already lighten up. I got my neck pain as the pillow here is in a funny shape and thickness, its like putting my head on a volleyball, a birthday cake maybe... I think it's just me, so I decided to use a cushion instead.

..? Feeling alone in germany?
yes

I kind of miss the food and drinks in my home, which I can get them at ease. I am such a lazy person, why am I even care and move my fingers to type? It's the second day of raining, the raindrop here feels so tiny and gentle. It tickles everywhere with such a moaning sound, but condensed. The loudest noisy ever made here is just the rain falls on the sloped roof, which bothers me sometime. I can hear the water sliding down to the drainage like a river. Now the crows outside shouting with all their might, and the water hangs on every part of the building like crystal cave. Everywhere stops moving, as if the time pauses. No, I can hear the clock ticking somewhere inside this house.

Living in another complicated family tree, I feel like a bit awful to be with a mother with a daughter. I am sure this is pretty much of my imagination because I don't know any of the things happening to her family, nor I've never seen her daughter who's actually living with me this couple of days. All these years of torture and sour, I am still hateful of how my emotions and feelings could hurt me so much. Even though we all know that we decide our path of life and we have to continue our journey for its best, but still, I do regret a lot.

After the morning shower of the fresh water descending from the sky, I can feel the sunlight breaking through the cloud a thousand miles away. I can feel the live outside, but I am too afraid to get out, too afraid to look at myself.

Trapped at the room full of mirror, I am just lost in my own fear.

How can you keep using this mobile?

You know many bike manufacturers like Specialized, Merida, Forme, they all divided into different production teams to create each series. And these series can let us define classes and character of the bikes, we take Specialized as an example, the Tarmac is of course for tarmac, road, while SHIV is for TT, and Zebra is just for funny looking man like Vince Chua. Then there is a model after the series. You can get a Forme Sport road bike, Race road bike and Team road bike, with just tiny amount of differences in the geometry design, they make absolute sense to different bikers with different purpose.

Then we come to the components, they are how we differ rich from poor, Tyson from Iverson, Rocky from Woody. With the SRAM Red being the top, then Force, Rival, Apex so on, they say they are designed for all unique riders to fit themselves, but actually they are designed just to fit all size of wallets. 

What makes cars and bikes really exciting, is probably the reason why every other things are incredibly dull and monotone. Once I bought my Merida 880 Race road bike, which was a second-hand aluminum road bike with rusted cables and a shortened top tube, which I found later. It wasn't very pretty when I first met it, and it wasn't the fastest bike for sure. But then I remember the first day when I took it home after a few hours of test driving, and I stopped by the traffic light. A man with his dog stood right there and saw me, and I saw him. We smiled as my 880 seemed to meet his new friend, a quite special friend who is trying to smell his front wheel and taste what he is like. 

Men like cars, because they have their own speciality, it's all about character. We can laugh at them, smirke it with tears and mouth water, or give it a whisel or cheer. That's how the world shows its colors and humor, everything is at ease. Sadly this joy seems impossible at any other cases, and let me put my finger on the mobiles. I am sorry, but what's the point to make numbers, I mean Numbers of different sizes of rectangle black screens, and give them all those fancy names? You can save time by naming them 4x8, 4x12 and 5x8, etc, that would make life much easier. And the colors, God, they are like Audi's production cars. You can only see dull black, desperated grey and plain white, in fact, they are so dumb that everyone has to pay extra to buy case and clothes for them. It's like wearing a pair of trousers outside your jeans, or making a plastic cover over the wooden floor. The reason for this is pretty simple, one, the original outfit of the phone is hideously bad, and two, those people actually like to drive their cars with bubble papers still wrapping their vehicles perfectly.

If you want a mighty tool, get a computer or something.

If you want a mobile with character, go to an old mobile shop.

Lost of freedom

I always have too many things I wanted to do, but then I can see those things that restrict me to give it a try. As I wanted to go, but I could never really doing it. After those years, I found myself still standing at this certain point, and never really left far from the start. Then I started to reason myself by saying that I have never made any decision that is convincing enough, or I should say, strong enough. How should I put this? Maybe like saying, I start judging myself before I make a decision or create an idea. For a boy who doesn't do decision making, that's normal he become lost. For a boy who is used to wear anything that was told, it's normal to have no sense of fashion either. Its like asking Siri to comment on Steve Jobs, the programmer didn't teach me how to answer, should I just print out He is the Hero, or just say he needs some more hair... No one has ever given any feedback, so I never really speak out, never really need others to know. Until time to time, when I made an obvious move, that was when people started to notice and ask me for reasons, reasons that were already happened to meet a certain answer. People doubt on my aspects of life, people doubt on the programmers if they know what they're doing on their designs, it's the same thing.

To many of us, a new year could mean a new start or a new beginning to almost everything. Firework so loud and light and noise and thousands of whatsapp messages... Buying new things, setting new year plan, writing reports and proposals, declaring... Just like the outfit of the Porsche 911, it will never change, never a better look, never a different way of making it. I am not saying it is ugly, in fact, it looks absolutely a piece of art, as I have grown up old enough to start adoring the shape of it. What I am saying is that, if it is how a Porsche 911 looks, it would be how it looks, no need to cheat us that it changed its shape, no need to add things on it. This is its character, old classic. Though, people don't like old, people don't like vintage. We like new cars, new luxuries, and have given up treasuring old stuffs long time ago.

My writings are no doubt a mess. Of all my ideas are suggested without elaborate, it feels a bit symbolic, and it stops really sudden.

(To someone)

Though you are being yourself as always,

your eyes and smile are different from those days

While leaves fall every autumn, our paths go different,

it won't feel the same, even if we revisit the same place

The magic

those fairies

an innocent believes now ruined

Crapped

buried

under this damned city now smirking

What the past won't change

what the future you approaching

what your faithful heart still having

please take special caring

Let the past be the memory

with a bit disappointing, I am sure you won't read me.