ღ仨ღღ

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　　　早上出门时怎么也找不着眼镜，所以一天就生活在朦胧的美丽新世界里……　

　　　吼，就当新体验，杭州很梦幻啊……

　　　奥巴马的演讲我是抱着学习英语的心态并以一个优秀进取的自我鞭策姿态去看的，当然，和MR六和我说的一样，这只是个传说，马哥表达的只是寂寞。至少我是一无所获。BTW，《寻找蒋经国》我已经看到第三集了，但我还是没理清楚关于去蒋的问题，我在想我可能全部看完之后充其量也只是一个中国近代史的爱好者吧。

　　　今天花八千块买了一堂课。说血淋淋应该也不为过。但，不去逃避问题、坦然面对，一切从自身出发找原因！用钱解决问题，用心吸取教训和经验！！！换个角度来想，这是好事！！！！
　　　记住了。

　　　 最后一件事。今天在楼下看到一只长得很像我家猪头仨的猫……本以为是只流浪猫，结果一看到我们就狂叫，就是很求救的那种。走过去，它也不逃，于是便萌生了收养它的念头。可是，抱到电梯口就犹豫了。这是只母猫哎，而且明显已经成年，那到了明年春天怎么办……还有，如果把床和沙发弄坏了怎么办……还有，上班去了，她怎么办……于是，于是，于是，又把她放回了原地…………以为她撒腿就会跑，但竟然就站在我们脚边，怎么也不肯走……5555，我当时心一狠就进电梯了！！
　　　可现在，心里特别堵得慌。觉得自己真的有点……但，之前已经很冲动的捡回的张三李四王五赵六等等给家里带来的麻烦，便又觉得刚才没有冲动是对的！

　　　唉，就让我带着纠结的情绪睡觉去吧。

所以说，每个成功的奥特曼背后都有一个默默挨打的小怪兽！

而我，作为一个小怪兽，我的愿望就是有一天可以成功打败一个奥特曼。

（喂，我说照片中这位紫色上衣的女同志，你好不好走得靠左一点啊，这样拍出来才好看哎！
好了，别自责了，下次注意点啊，这次算的。）

····＝＝＝＝＝＝＝····大家好，我素分隔线，其实有我没我是一样的···＝＝＝＝＝＝＝····

　　　我的小热水袋在月初的时候已经隆重登场，时至近日降温，小号的热水袋、加厚型羽绒被、电热毯、线裤、毛线帽N件、加厚型围巾N条……这些更是本小爷入冬的必备武器，当然，即便这样，在面对感冒突然到来时，我依然没有半点抱怨或懊恼，依然把它伺候的像姨奶奶一样，以便其早点起驾回宫。

　　　我最近很想自驾出去兜一圈，特别是在看了小兵GG推荐的菠萝的西藏自驾之后，这个念头格外澎湃！西藏我开不去，去趟西塘总没问题的吧，说真的，还是很怀念西塘那个卖豆腐脑的老太太的么。
　　　再者，小老婆跟我回家以后还没有真正的发挥过作用，最远也就扯了一下绕城，我想自驾去个远点儿的地方……去哪儿呢？？
　　　对了，右姑娘，你男人说两天给我答复，个么答复呢！快放话给他，让他速速把答复送过来。

　　　周末见了小宇和天天。……

　　　我其实还蛮想好好写一下的，但我现在真当瞌充的，明天写好了～～先噶。

    Michael Jackson was born in August 1958. So was I. Michael Jackson grew up in the suburbs of the Midwest. So did I. Michael Jackson had eight brothers and sisters. So do I. When Michael Jackson was six, he became a superstar, and was perhaps the world’s most beloved child. When I was six, my mother died. I think he got the shorter end of the stick. I never had a mother, but he never had a childhood. And when you never get to have something, you become obsessed by it.

    I spent my childhood searching for my mother figures. Sometimes I was successful, but how do you recreate your childhood when you are under the magnifying glass of the world?

    There is no question that Michael Jackson is one of the greatest talents the world has ever known. That when he sang a song at the ripe old age of eight he could make you feel like an experienced adult was squeezing your heart with his words. That when he moved he had the elegance of Fred Astaire and packed the punch of Muhammad Ali. That his music had an extra layer of inexplicable magic that didn’t just make you want to dance but actually made you believe you could fly, dare to dream, be anything that you wanted to be. Because that is what heroes do and Michael Jackson was a hero.

    He performed in soccer stadiums around the world, and sold hundreds of millions of records and dined with prime ministers and presidents. Girls fell in love with him, boys fell in love with him, everyone wanted to dance like him. He seemed otherworldly — but he was a human being.

    Like most performers he was shy and plagued with insecurities. I can’t say we were great friends, but in 1991 I decided I wanted to try to get to know him better. I asked him out to dinner, I said “My treat, I’ll drive — just you and me.”

    He agreed and showed up to my house without any bodyguards. We drove to the restaurant in my car. It was dark out, but he was still wearing sunglasses.

    I said, “Michael, I feel like I’m talking to a limousine. Do you think you can take off your glasses so I can see your eyes?”

    Then he tossed the glasses out the window, looked at me with a wink and a smile and said, “Can you see me now? Is that better?”

    in that moment, I could see both his vulnerability and his charm. The rest of the dinner, I was hellbent on getting him to eat French fries, drink wine, have dessert and say bad words. Things he never seemed to allow himself to do. Later we went back to my house to watch a movie and sat on the couch like two kids, and somewhere in the middle of the movie, his hand snuck over and held mine.

    It felt like he was looking for more of a friend than a romance, and I was happy to oblige. In that moment, he didn’t feel like a superstar. He felt like a human being.

    We went out a few more times together, and then for one reason or another we fell out of touch. Then the witch hunt began, and it seemed like one negative story after another was coming out about Michael. I felt his pain, I know what it’s like to walk down the street and feel like the whole world is turned against you. I know what it’s like to feel helpless and unable to defend yourself because the roar of the lynch mob is so loud you feel like your voice can never be heard.

    But I had a childhood, and I was allowed to make mistakes and find my own way in the world without the glare of the spotlight.

    When I first heard that Michael had died, I was in London, days away from the start of my tour. Michael was going to perform in the same venue as me a week later. All I could think about in this moment was, “I had abandoned him.” That we had abandoned him. That we had allowed this magnificent creature who had once set the world on fire to somehow slip through the cracks. While he was trying to build a family and rebuild his career, we were all passing judgement. Most of us had turned our backs on him. In a desperate attempt to hold onto his memory, I went on the internet to watch old clips of him dancing and singing on TV and on stage and I thought, “my God, he was so unique, so original, so rare, and there will never be anyone like him again. He was a king.”

    But he was also a human being, and alas we are all human beings and sometimes we have to lose things before we can appreciate them. I want to end this on a positive note and say that my sons, age nine and four, are obsessed with Michael Jackson. There’s a whole lot of crotch grabbing and moon walking going on in my house. And, it seems like a whole new generation of kids have discovered his genius and are bringing him to life again. I hope that wherever Michael is right now he is smiling about this.

    Yes, Michael Jackson was a human being but he was a king. Long live the king.

　　　七七在她的黑夜，对着电话泣不成声，周围举目无亲。地球另一端。我在我的白天，什么都不说拿着听筒，秋日中午的阳光洒在左肩。
　　　　
　　　时光倒退，回到那一天。那天早晨看到你的短信——那些美好而青春的文字，满是坚定和傻傻的固执，你说你决定要回来，你说你要不顾一切，你说你要为了你认定了的爱情。
　　　险些流下眼泪，把手机递给身边的六二，我说，你看你看我家姑娘多可爱。六二说，嗯，你们都是一样的人。
　　　吼，一样的人。因为一样的十二月十八，我想我们注定在命运中有某种重叠。不然这样的际遇有多少人在有生之年可以遇见。

　　　那天我后来给玫好去了电话。她说她只是想我。她说感觉很久很久没见我。后来我就在想我有多久没有收工的路上按七号键直接给你去个电话，或者在某个阳光四溢的下午拐你去蓝水喝杯热巧克力OR来个还OK的PIZZA，听你很8婆的和我说，快快快，猛料！
　　　哦，丫头，说到这儿……真的，我挺想你的。

　　　哦，我亲爱的丫头，我要说些什么才能让你安心、平和些？
　　　我不管你身边的那个人，他什么模样，什么性格，什么脾气，什么年纪，我只知道，你喜欢他。
　　　喜欢是一件自己的事，简单的事，旁人看不懂（其实也不需要旁人看懂），是因为旁人不是自己，旁人把感情想得太复杂，而自己不会多想，因为喜欢，就是喜欢。
　　　于是，你可以为了他改变这改变那，有时候改变的有点小走样，但看着他对你笑的样子，你也觉得值得了，是不是？丫头，在不多的、还可以任我们挥霍的时光里，我们就应该去做一些至少自己觉得值得的事！只要这些事不会伤害别人，对得起良心。说这个，是因为你知道，我碰到过一些人（无关男女）拿“爱”当借口，于是放纵欲望，于是一次次的掩耳盗铃，牺牲别人的温暖成就自己的寒冬，这样的人……所幸与我已无交集，爱自己爱得过了头，如若有一天这样的人受了伤，……责怪谁？呵，多半是责怪这个世界的诱惑了吧。
　　　所以，丫头，懂得爱自己，成全自己，但是不该盲目，不该自私，不该尖锐！
　　　爱是包容，是成全，是体谅，是善良。

　　　丫头，在你泣不成声的时候有没有想过，其实，你此刻的模样或者就是你告诉我的“不顾一切”“奋不顾身”，不是吗？那句话是这样说的：关于爱情我们能掌握的其实很少，我们能做的只是在相爱的时候尽量幸福。分开的时候尽量笑着。再见面的时候问你过得好么。你说这样算不算是无悔？

　　　丫头，要哭就大声哭，痛快的哭，青春无悔，蹉跎又如何？等哭累了，眼泪擦干，要么再去狠狠爱一场，要么就狠狠的转身，不是么？

　　　亲爱的，现在又是我的白天，你该睡了吧？不吵你，安心睡，你要相信，睡醒了，眼睛睁开，你会看见和我这里一样美好的阳光，也许也洒在你的左肩，是不是？

　　　爱自己。

我就还蛮喜欢今天这样的日子的，懒懒的，适合写字。

向在HK的当家发消息告诉当家偶很想你还有生日快乐。

佑同学的SH行怎么样了/

MISS EX JAL的款款朵朵怎么样了/

７７小朋友的t d d' us P怎么样了.

嗯哈。你们真是的……老让我费心来着。

１．混C很豪华不让我拿铁了呀我就用超级小隐形外套带进来还喝很多咧你不知道呀不知道。

２．好好的电影弄这么慌XX干MO我不明白也其实不打紧不看就得了。

３．朵妈TOBE说太顶你这份工作了然后晚上我在一茶一座的时候想想也挺对的。

４．发现很洋气的新聚点我就认真想要不要和你显摆。

５．银泰350淘宝是90你说买哪个。

６．四平八稳小姐在今天突然做了一件突发其想的事我开心死了我以为只有我这样的小欧子才会说去哪就去哪连什么时候回来都不知道原来你也这样了哈哈哈。

７．新匡威送有新气象的新胖子TOBE。

８．如果杨杨可以减掉一个美辛那我至少该减掉一个贝贝吧。

９．七七在下午发我便在凌晨收到的短信让我隔着820公里就开心得睡不着觉。

０．我的INZONE小奇遇要藏好然后世界上谁都不会知道。

　　　关于对蔡琴的关注大概应该是从杨德昌去世那时候起的。
　　　那次蔡琴发表了一篇没有标题的声明，波澜不惊却字字深刻。
　　　那个始乱终弃的男人没有被唾弃或诅咒，到他死了，女人却说“感谢上帝让我与他轰轰烈烈的爱过”……女人都不傻，女人只是太善良。

　　　再后来，看康熙来了里蔡琴的专访。她说到她在某场演唱会唱到动情处潸然落泪却不慎弄掉一只假睫毛，她随即说：这就是人生，假的永远会被真的冲走。　一旁的小S也不禁啧啧称赞。这样丰富聪慧的女人怎么不叫人欣赏。
　　　
　　　蔡琴《不了情香港演唱会》是我最爱的专辑。她唱歌让人安心。一只贴满钻的麦架，一只金麦，无需华服、不肖卖弄……一个生活过的女人成就一场盛宴。等后来有了DVD，每次看到她唱《最后一夜》几乎失控的样子，都会陪着一起落泪。我无意揣测她的眼泪，我私自认为那不是为某一个人流的，人生跌宕，有太多故事，无需和人分享，只教在某个深夜自己可以回味便足矣。

　　　３０号的演唱会。我问同行的伙伴，你想听些什么歌？得到一个超帅气的回答：想听的不是歌，是寂寞。

　　　吼对的对的，那一晚，是喜是悲就全当作是一段时光的小结，结束、开始。

　　　想听的是一些回忆，更是生活。

越过了重重的心墙，有一整片蓝天。

这是今天晚饭后最想唱的歌。

thanx,both T&T.