苗栗深夜的麥當勞
4 個回應 4.26.2008因為工作的原因，使的我不得不在這個陌生的城市渡過週六的夜晚；相較於台北市浮華的夜色，苗栗的晚間顯得恬靜了許多。
下午進入苗栗市區時發現許多店家大門深鎖，猜想是歷經週間洗禮後週末出遊遠方，又或是在自個家兒渡假了。下榻的旅館非常簡樸，兩張大床、一台18吋的小電視、一個儲藏了兩瓶礦泉水的小冰箱；浴室更是作到連乾溼分離都省去了。幸好，當初設計師百忙之中忘了浴室的門其實也是可以省掉不裝，算是不幸中的大幸了。由於室友早寢，尚無倦意的我只好出門溜達。
上了中山路看見了個熟悉的招牌；不，不是麥當勞，那段還沒到，是 7-11。早些時候隔壁座位的同事不但從韓國帶了我超愛的 Krispy Kreme 給我，還提醒了我 7-11 本來的營業時間就是從上午7點至晚間11點的，這在當時已經算是超時營業了，後來大約在1962年在德州開始試驗24小時不打烊，這才成了我們今天認識的7-11。
手中拿著剛結完帳的筆記本、原子筆(帶來的筆留在旅館了)以及草莓口味的思樂冰，想找個清靜有光線的地方寫些有的沒的。苗栗市政府前方的市民廣場本看起來像是個不錯的地點，豈知才剛坐下就發現蚊子多到一個過份的地步，無奈只好起身繼續向前探索。沿著馬路走著走著竟在麥當勞門口停了下來，心想反正都走到門口了，索性就進去吃它個六塊雞塊吧。
拿了餐點，上了二樓選了個角落位置坐下；跟在我後面的三個小朋友本想坐到我正前方的座位，但沒想到一個拿了報紙的老先生一個箭步，手掌一翻，平平穩穩的將手上的報紙送到那個四人座的桌面上。只見那三個小朋友皺了皺眉頭，摸摸鼻子無奈的轉往三樓去了；要怪只能怪自己技不如人啊。那老先生挑了個跟我正面相對的椅子一屁股坐了下去，才坐穩台頭一看便與我四目相對；可能他怕我會不好意思，所以起身換了個跟我背對的座位定了下來。看著他的灰白摻雜的頭髮，我不免好奇：what is his story？是什麼樣的背景使的一個年過半百的老人不消費的跑來麥當勞看免費的報紙。或許他明天早上會是聯合大學的校長，又或許他兩個小時前曾是親吻老伴的丈夫，但在此時此刻，他是個多活了幾年的我。從他身上我看見了未來的自己，看見了一個皮帶沒穿好、腳上穿了極為不搭襯的家樂福過季名牌球鞋老人。霎時間，什麼型男宅男、野心志向頓時間對我而言只是路途而已，差別只是在於交通工具及沿路風景罷了。同樣是去高雄，有些人重視時間選擇搭飛機，有些人重舒適性而搭高鐵，有些人重視彈性與便利性選擇自己開車，也有些人因重視荷包而選擇區間車。
那我呢？我都搭國光號 XD。
天生反骨，我向來都不是一個好相處的人；真是難為了我的朋友們，也難為我那到目前仍是未知的未來伴侶。
我懷念高雄那短暫、快樂的時光。
read more “苗栗深夜的麥當勞”
下午進入苗栗市區時發現許多店家大門深鎖，猜想是歷經週間洗禮後週末出遊遠方，又或是在自個家兒渡假了。下榻的旅館非常簡樸，兩張大床、一台18吋的小電視、一個儲藏了兩瓶礦泉水的小冰箱；浴室更是作到連乾溼分離都省去了。幸好，當初設計師百忙之中忘了浴室的門其實也是可以省掉不裝，算是不幸中的大幸了。由於室友早寢，尚無倦意的我只好出門溜達。
上了中山路看見了個熟悉的招牌；不，不是麥當勞，那段還沒到，是 7-11。早些時候隔壁座位的同事不但從韓國帶了我超愛的 Krispy Kreme 給我，還提醒了我 7-11 本來的營業時間就是從上午7點至晚間11點的，這在當時已經算是超時營業了，後來大約在1962年在德州開始試驗24小時不打烊，這才成了我們今天認識的7-11。
手中拿著剛結完帳的筆記本、原子筆(帶來的筆留在旅館了)以及草莓口味的思樂冰，想找個清靜有光線的地方寫些有的沒的。苗栗市政府前方的市民廣場本看起來像是個不錯的地點，豈知才剛坐下就發現蚊子多到一個過份的地步，無奈只好起身繼續向前探索。沿著馬路走著走著竟在麥當勞門口停了下來，心想反正都走到門口了，索性就進去吃它個六塊雞塊吧。
拿了餐點，上了二樓選了個角落位置坐下；跟在我後面的三個小朋友本想坐到我正前方的座位，但沒想到一個拿了報紙的老先生一個箭步，手掌一翻，平平穩穩的將手上的報紙送到那個四人座的桌面上。只見那三個小朋友皺了皺眉頭，摸摸鼻子無奈的轉往三樓去了；要怪只能怪自己技不如人啊。那老先生挑了個跟我正面相對的椅子一屁股坐了下去，才坐穩台頭一看便與我四目相對；可能他怕我會不好意思，所以起身換了個跟我背對的座位定了下來。看著他的灰白摻雜的頭髮，我不免好奇：what is his story？是什麼樣的背景使的一個年過半百的老人不消費的跑來麥當勞看免費的報紙。或許他明天早上會是聯合大學的校長，又或許他兩個小時前曾是親吻老伴的丈夫，但在此時此刻，他是個多活了幾年的我。從他身上我看見了未來的自己，看見了一個皮帶沒穿好、腳上穿了極為不搭襯的家樂福過季名牌球鞋老人。霎時間，什麼型男宅男、野心志向頓時間對我而言只是路途而已，差別只是在於交通工具及沿路風景罷了。同樣是去高雄，有些人重視時間選擇搭飛機，有些人重舒適性而搭高鐵，有些人重視彈性與便利性選擇自己開車，也有些人因重視荷包而選擇區間車。
那我呢？我都搭國光號 XD。
天生反骨，我向來都不是一個好相處的人；真是難為了我的朋友們，也難為我那到目前仍是未知的未來伴侶。
我懷念高雄那短暫、快樂的時光。
A little something about this thing called ambition
5 個回應 4.05.2008This entry will be just me typing non-stop, it will be un-organized and will probably make no sense at all; just my train of thought leaving a mark at a point in space and time to prove my existence. I know I haven't been keeping up with the blogging, however there are some things that I need to get off of my chest and my head before it bursts like a bulging white zit and slips away to the vast openness of my heart. It is around 4:45 in the morning, and this is probably the 100th time the song "For My Father" is repeating itself through the cheap computer speakers I own.
I wept.
It's just so beautiful; it is not the music that I am referring to, although the song itself is a great and captivating work of art.
Life is beautiful.
I believe that life isn't about any ambitious so called "plans" that we humans to the greatest of our infinite capability could conjure or invoke, but rather how we face it. Rocky Balboa said that "...nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get it and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward." and I believe this with every inch of my heart and every ounce of my soul. Life is about picking a destination, find your direction, and start walking. When or how you progress, what or who you include in the journey is important, but it isn't everything and still remains to be everything at the sametime; this is what makes life special. Each and everyday I gaze upon testimony after testimony without seeing, yet there it is regardless of my acknowledgement.
It is hard to believe that one can wake up each morning and be so calloused to the blessings each and every day, yet here I stand, stareing right into the so called "butt crack of life". Please do not confuse this crack with that of Angelina Jolie or whatever god/goddess you hold dearest to the bottom of your heart. Oh no, make no mistake, this is the definitive crack of that sweaty, hairy, fatman of fame. *For those of you've not seen, just imagine yourself watching the ugliest person you know from behind while they're trying to take care of your toilet issue with a plunger, and there's that Kodak moment with the crack.*
Despite the image, I can't help "but" to think "a-butt" all the good in life; just the thought of life itself is gripping leaving me gasping for air. *seriously, did the two cheeks come up? I "crack" myself up sometimes.*
It has dawned on me in the past few days that I've been obtuse to life for awhile now. Once I had a dream, or even further to say that I dared to dream that God could ever have a vision of what is to become of me on this earth. Somehow, somewhere in the midst of chaos that is this world, I lost my senses, my child like curiosity to the point where I almost stopped caring; I've decided that it is good enough to be mediocre, to be normal, to be average.
I am weeping profoundly.
For the lost and sacrifices that took place? or for the joys and hopes that came with what was found again?
I've been wondering if this apathetic outlook has more to do with being unambitious? or uninspired? or are they both just a poor excuse for being lazy and trying to be unoriginal? I don't think I'll never know. Is it truly that terrible to have no definitive out look in life? Are we not allowed by to float along like a leaf in the wind, go wherever the wind takes us? I can't believe that it comes down to this, to think of what took place this far, and what might have been further down that road, I guess I'll never find out. It's a pity, and a shame, but life makes it's choices just as we do, with haste, and it catches people off guard; it caught me off guard.
I feel angry.
I am anger at it's most vulnerable.
The anger ascends from decisions, or the lack of mine in call of progress. To be powerless, to surrender authority, to yield to the fact that I do not have complete control of my life and never will. How or when was it that I became blind? It could have been a train and I still wouldn't have noticed it. The sadness, joy, and anger comes from a place deep in my soul me that is and forced loose, the part of my life that will never be shared, ever again. How is it that people are able to live a facade, yet to still claim joy and gladness?
It's the morning; I am mourning that I mourned.
I suppose the pursuit of happiness in life is an ambition by itself; after all, I believe that people can go through their whole life without happiness. The declaration of what drives for hopes and dreams cannot be if one isn't full of joy with self, with life; if this were to hold true, then I can say that I am truely happy and that I am ready.
Bring it on.
read more “A little something about this thing called ambition”
I wept.
It's just so beautiful; it is not the music that I am referring to, although the song itself is a great and captivating work of art.
Life is beautiful.
I believe that life isn't about any ambitious so called "plans" that we humans to the greatest of our infinite capability could conjure or invoke, but rather how we face it. Rocky Balboa said that "...nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get it and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward." and I believe this with every inch of my heart and every ounce of my soul. Life is about picking a destination, find your direction, and start walking. When or how you progress, what or who you include in the journey is important, but it isn't everything and still remains to be everything at the sametime; this is what makes life special. Each and everyday I gaze upon testimony after testimony without seeing, yet there it is regardless of my acknowledgement.
It is hard to believe that one can wake up each morning and be so calloused to the blessings each and every day, yet here I stand, stareing right into the so called "butt crack of life". Please do not confuse this crack with that of Angelina Jolie or whatever god/goddess you hold dearest to the bottom of your heart. Oh no, make no mistake, this is the definitive crack of that sweaty, hairy, fatman of
Despite the image, I can't help "but" to think "a-butt" all the good in life; just the thought of life itself is gripping leaving me gasping for air. *seriously, did the two cheeks come up? I "crack" myself up sometimes.*
It has dawned on me in the past few days that I've been obtuse to life for awhile now. Once I had a dream, or even further to say that I dared to dream that God could ever have a vision of what is to become of me on this earth. Somehow, somewhere in the midst of chaos that is this world, I lost my senses, my child like curiosity to the point where I almost stopped caring; I've decided that it is good enough to be mediocre, to be normal, to be average.
I am weeping profoundly.
For the lost and sacrifices that took place? or for the joys and hopes that came with what was found again?
I've been wondering if this apathetic outlook has more to do with being unambitious? or uninspired? or are they both just a poor excuse for being lazy and trying to be unoriginal? I don't think I'll never know. Is it truly that terrible to have no definitive out look in life? Are we not allowed by to float along like a leaf in the wind, go wherever the wind takes us? I can't believe that it comes down to this, to think of what took place this far, and what might have been further down that road, I guess I'll never find out. It's a pity, and a shame, but life makes it's choices just as we do, with haste, and it catches people off guard; it caught me off guard.
I feel angry.
I am anger at it's most vulnerable.
The anger ascends from decisions, or the lack of mine in call of progress. To be powerless, to surrender authority, to yield to the fact that I do not have complete control of my life and never will. How or when was it that I became blind? It could have been a train and I still wouldn't have noticed it. The sadness, joy, and anger comes from a place deep in my soul me that is and forced loose, the part of my life that will never be shared, ever again. How is it that people are able to live a facade, yet to still claim joy and gladness?
It's the morning; I am mourning that I mourned.
I suppose the pursuit of happiness in life is an ambition by itself; after all, I believe that people can go through their whole life without happiness. The declaration of what drives for hopes and dreams cannot be if one isn't full of joy with self, with life; if this were to hold true, then I can say that I am truely happy and that I am ready.
Bring it on.
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