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我用几行字两张画形容你是我的谁

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。

    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.

saw you standing there in the crowd tonight
your smile would just carry me away to a flight

into the sky, above the clouds
the stars were all shining bright in my heart

this is a love song for you and me
on this cold cold winter night

wish you are with me
so i prayed and prayed

that was you will be mine
and i will be yours for a long long time

未完成……

100％！这是个秘密。谁都不说。

光芒……万丈。终有一天。

七七的眼泪。右右的简单。

草莓的优雅。当家的纠结。

生活的平静。工作的起伏。

熊爱的游戏。猫爱的文字。

她要的安心。他要的心安。

我的你。你的我。

过去的。未来的。

放好。创造。

当下。去爱。

其实，这一切加起来足以唱一出戏，叫时光。

你的时光有我，我的时光有你。

这些时光交织起来，光芒……万丈！

你收了行李下个星期要去英国
遥远的故事记得带回来给我
我知道我想要却又不敢对你说
因为我已改变太多

你改了一个名字也准备换工作
你开始了新的恋情有一些困惑
我知道你想要却又不敢对我说
因为你已改变太多

你写了好几首属於你的歌
这样的歌隐藏了太多苦涩
我知道你想要却又不敢对我说
因为我曾是你我曾是你
无话不说的朋友

因为我们改变太多

        小shengyang在一夜之间火成这个样子，便让人明白为什么连JAY老爷也要挤破脑袋钻到春晚来，这收视率～～必须～的。

        刚才在老爷介绍下看《不差钱》。超一般。东北人憨直的方言笑话有时候在南方是让人不解的，加上有些包袱听过一次就再笑不出声，便觉得这小品真不乍滴～

        要说赵爷才穷智竭确实有点不厚道，好歹这么多年这台戏都靠他撑着，可是今年这场下来，如若他再成为NO1，那讨好大众所需要的手段未免太轻巧易得了吧。

        一直认为幽默本就该是种与身俱来的气质，不刻意的显山露水却对这个世界有种淡然的认识，于是言谈间有种另外角度的豁达，惹人会心的笑。 刻意的装疯卖傻不是幽默，包袱抖太大了便成傀儡了。