I blog therefore I remember

Narcissus did not love Echo. She died and only her voice's left:

The nymph, when nothing could Narcissus move, Still dash'd with blushes for her slighted love, Liv'd in the shady covert of the woods, In solitary caves and dark abodes; Where pining wander'd the rejected fair, 'Till harrass'd out, and worn away with care, The sounding skeleton, of blood bereft, Besides her bones and voice had nothing left. Her bones are petrify'd, her voice is found In vaults, where still it doubles ev'ry sound.

I'm singing Echo's voice playing my good old Ovation guitar... Nancy's sick lying under the coffee table... This's life... even if Nancy's sick... Finally have some time to do nothing but just write and sing...

No, nothing is right: the job's bad, Nancy went to ER two nights ago, the vet's bills're enormous, my place's still too small to be really tidied up however I try, absolutely nobody understands my obsession to Hello Kitties, the ideas of mask, Echo, Platonic love, Sadomasochism, Mishima, etc... but it's still much better than some time ago. I've past the worst time of my life, I know. I hit the bottom. Things can only get better. Nothing can be worse than before. At least I have my guitar to sing, my desktop to write and my new car stereo to listen to music. It used to be one hundred times worse. I can hang in here for another while I know.

The airport's always a place of dramatic thoughts: thoughts about moving, personal finance, relationships, etc. When I dropped my friend off the same night Nancy went to ER, I saw him looking back to see me drive away at the entrance. A little gratitude, a little sympathy, a little care, so strange. Yeah, feelings come and go. We hugged and I waved goodbye to him. Didn't know why but suddenly felt like hubby had come back to me and Nancy when this guy was driving my pink car to LAX. Almost just like before: the man driving, me holding the dog and the dog looking at me with her big sentimental eyes on road trip without growling at him. Nancy hated all men except him. He's the only one that could get along with Nancy. So a man, a woman and a dog, my original perfect family composition. Told the nurse in the Animal Emergency Clinic I had a divorce and Nancy's on joint custody. A month with Mom, a month with Dad, she grined. She's divorced too.

But I don't know my ex anymore. He's no longer the man I knew. The man that told me he never fell asleep in the morning cuz he was looking at my face the whole night when we first slept together holding hands. The man with whom I never ate anything for dinner cuz we're already in heaven just by sitting, cuddling, listening to John Coltrane and talking until midnight in my old Hong Kong style apartment in Soho when we first dated. The man by whom I tripped head over heel in the pier in Central on the way to hike on Lamma Island while still didn't even feel self-conscious or embarrassed the slightest cuz being by him's already a blast and what I acted like didn't really matter anymore. The man that suddenly wrote to me on the Internet telling me how close he felt to me from the music to which we both listened. Can never reach his heart like I did before again. The man I thought the love of my life. He's over.

So when I'm beat up now, once I think of what I went through, I know I can go through anything.