stripped bare

If I can’t be a singer…

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A few nights ago, I chanced upon an old notebook of mine. It contained alot of poems and lyrics I composed when I was feeling melancholic. That’s nothing special, except that they were written in Mandarin.

My standard Mandarin definitely cannot match up to that of my English. Unfortunately, I’ve been exposed to chinese songs and Taiwanese variety shows. It’s amazing how sometimes, certain Mandarin phrases can describe explicitly how some English words cannot. That’s why I realized, English poems are easier to write, but Mandarin lyrics are easier to compose.

It used to be that I used Mandarin to communicate with my grandparents, but now I use it everyday. Just last night, I dreamt in Chinese! I dreamt that I was moving away from my faceless, psychotic ex boyfriend (who somewhat reminded me of one of my friends) and Jay Chou (my new boyfriend) flew down from Taiwan to help me move. *mind wanders…

Where was I?

Oh yeah. I wondered aloud last night to J about my creative Mandarin mind and read out some of stuff I wrote. I’m amazed at how poetic I can be sometimes. *clears throat In fact, to be honest, when I read them the first time, I cried because they brought back the memories and I was sort of transported back to the time when I wrote the poems. Oh the heartache.

Is it a good thing or not to keep those painful memories?


Written by smudgi3

June 7, 2005, Tuesday at 13:05

Posted in Dear Diary

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