Cole Porter 1935

It was
just one of those things
Just one of those crazy flings
One of those bells that now and then rings
Just one of those things. - It was
just one of those nights
Just one of those fabulous flights.
A -trip to the moon on gosamer wings
Just one of those things. If we'd -
thought a bit of the end of it. When we -
started painting the town. We'd have -
been aware that our love affair was too
hot not to cool down. So good -
bye, dear, and Amen
Here's hoping we meet now and then. It was -
great fun, but it was just one of those
things.

When reality fades into a haze, remind yourself, that life is merely a medium of transient existence, where only faith will leads us to the place

it feels strange when you reckon you have fallen in love.......
dizzy like a post-call day after a really busy night (just like last night! never imagined i'd do a chest drain at 4am in the morning!), feels like having your long hair immersed in apple cider,
sweet but just a bit much to handle it all......

can be a laugh to say all these. but the reality is, there's not enough time for any blossom... unless......

Working hard to keep a cat when things are settled in Tuen Mun, will you come and see her? and me too?? : ) Miss you.

How are you? funny how I always start asking this question to an important one. It's simple, like me, but with a lot of meaning. On this quiet and dark night when everything is quiet, deep in my mind I wonder who will come along and start walking with me. To whoever you are, here's a poem for you...

"To the one who understood his task and his purpose.
To the one who looked at the road ahead,
and understood that it was a difficult journey.
To the one who did not make light of those difficulties,
but, on the contrary, made them manifest and visible.
To the one who makes the lonely feel they are not alone,
who satisfies those who hunger and thirst for justice,
who makes the oppressor feel as bad as the oppressed.
To the one who always keeps his door open,
his ears listening, his hands working, his feet walking.
To the one who embodies the verses of another Persian poet,
Hafez, when he says:
Not even seven thousand years of joy are worth seven days of sadness.
To the one who is here tonight,
may he be one with all of us,
may his example multiply,
may he still have difficult days ahead,
so that he can do whatever he needs to do,
so that the next generations will not have to strive
for what has already been accomplished.
And may he walk slowly,
because his peace is the peace of change,
and chage, real change, always takes time."

May we walk with our pure hearts......
Love, and good night,

Sometimes, I wonder what makes me cry...
I thought I had to build a heart of lead to keep on living. A solid heart to forget. A heavy heart to go forward. But something melted my heart today, and I realised, I still have a heart.

It was a mother and son, crying with their swollen red eyes, sitting next to a father, who was dying.

It made me cry.
I know, I've forgiven all that was done, to me.