Another Random Poem | Vanity

She chose her way , having had thought it would go far — simple-minded it may seem but I could not even admit that SHE could actually be ME. This could be COVID-19 trauma, or perhaps not, with or without the pandemic, there stands the truth , unchangeable. It always takes some painful falls to get to know oneself. And I agree that oneself is not discovered , it is shaped by how we define it and change it. It grows. To the root, layers and layers of ashes start stacking , those were burnt failed personal moments overlooked. This is a year of pausing and losing and doubting, thus looking into alternatives, and coming to realise what is and what is not. So with this mood, my random poem goes:

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Wrapping, spinning and keep going—

She did not care what went towards nowhere or anywhere.

There were no problems , with one blind eye—


But today she stood still and started staring—

Into that big vanity,

Left there, looking back into her eyes, and she saw


The truth lying underneath the words:

Responsibility, Modesty, Bravery, individualism…

All flipped and flew away, like a bee found an empty flower;

A helpless fly had too much of honey;

An ignorant spider kept walking in circles on the ceiling;

Like herself, with a full spirit and then become a balloon deflated.


What was not right? Wanderers searching for a shelter started to feel tired.

What was wrong? A hermit got his phone glued on his arm.

She did not bother with answers and how they flipped – paradoxically ironic comedy.


Nothingness did not create vanity, once having had it perhaps did.

Yet hounding it in your hands and you still having nothing.

And that huge eye of vanity , shouting aloud: This is not how you live—

But she simply sighed, “ What can I do to keep you alive” and Vanity ——

disappeared with the deepest disappointment.

And just like last time, below is an attempt to translate it to Chinese ( this is a fun game):

Oh, the name would just simply be Vanity.

<空洞>

包裹着、 旋转着, 继续啊—

她已不在乎什么会去到哪里或者哪也不去

闭着一只眼,总也没问题


今日她却睁开一只眼,死死盯着—-

盯着那巨大的空洞

这被遗忘的空洞,正也死盯着她,她看见—


几个词面: 责, 谦、勇和个人主义, 它们底下的真理开始翻转——

这些词开始飞翔,逃离,好似蜜蜂发现采着了空心的花蜜;

好似一只苍蝇吃撑了蜂蜜,手足无措;

好似一只蜘蛛沿着天花板的圆圈无止境爬行而不自知;

又似她自己,精神饱满竟又变成泄气的球。


什么不太恰当?是那些流浪者已疲于寻找头顶的屋檐。

什么又看不过眼?隐者的手机像惹上胶水似的粘在他手臂

她竟也不在意答案并看它们如何翻转—讽刺里夹着纠缠


空洞并不来自于一无所有,而是曾经拥有

紧握在你的手,你仍旧一无所有

空洞的大眼开始说话叫喊: 你不该这样生活啊——

她只轻叹:我又该怎样让你生活,空洞带着无底的失望,消失无踪。

Phone screen is shooting out unfriendly lights. I think it might blind me one day if I keep blogging. Not a blogger material after all.

What I really want to say is that trapped at home by coronavirus or by anything else is not a good feeling. There are times we just don’t feel like to do anything and times we want to finish all the things undone. And it’s ok. It seems like balance is broken. Perhaps, tomorrow, the world will renew itself again, as balance will come again and we will get New Balance ( thought I prefer Nike ). Resilience, people! Hold on! Cheer up… and I miss Japanese Buffet, indulgence in food once in a while to keep it going. Not bad.

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