8月24日 星期六 雨
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August 24th, 2002. Saturday, rainy
Floating plants have no roots. Floating on the river day by day, they don't know where to go. As a piece of floating plant, I go here and there to look for a home for my soul.I have been longing for the warmth and the protection for a long time. Today, he appeared and asked me, "Could you be my girlfriend?" I was so shocked that I can feel my heartbeat. I was totally unprepared for his sudden appearance.I even didn't have the courage to refuse him.On the other hand, to refuse him is not my intention.
I always think I am an obstinate bad girl, persisting my old ways without considering the results.I just let my passion flood, and begin and end an affair rashly. I was hurt again and again. But I never hesitate to touch the "bomb of love" which will destroy me into fragments.Am I obedient or disobedient?Maybe both. I am obedient to my heart, and disobedient to the rule of the world.I have once thought that the all restraints on emotions are evil.
When I feel sad, I can give vent to my suffering by destroying pretty things, or by listening to a pleasant music to calm myself.I think in my mind, there are both passivity and positivity.I often refuse to use my sense to make choice. I frequently dream that I jump down from a high and steep cliff one day.With the clouds and the wind around me, I stretch my arms to enjoy the short happiness of flying.I am sure when I fly, I have the most beautiful smile.
Watching the pretty girl in the mirror, I believe my smile is still bright.Other people might think I am optimistic as if I would never be hurt by failures,tn fact, they never know optimism is also a kind of helplessness.When I find I am unable to change anything, the only thing I can do is to smile.Nobody knows that my heart has been hurt seriously, because I never show the injured heart to the others.Only I know that my heart has been full of pale- ness, distress, loneliness, dullness and indifference.
Hand in hand, he gave me the warm feeling of love, and I was moved. Walking along the street,seeing the street [amp light flicker, he told me a love story between a piece of leaf and a buttenqy. The leaf may not know the love should not happen until it falls.But when the love takes place,nobody can tell whether it should happen. The moment when the leaf falls in love with the butterfly is also the beginning of endless suffering of die leaf, because there is no position for the leaf in the heart of the butterfly. When the leaf falls, it may finally understand how wonderful the butterfly's world is. So it's no reason to ask for the love from the butterfly.Nevertheless, the leaf, experiencing the love affaire, falls to the soil without any pity, just as the old saying, "Love him, so let him be free."
Loving you is easy because you are beautiful, And loving you is all I wanna do,Loving you is more than just a dream comes true,And everything that I do is out of lov- ing you o The human beings extol the love not for its complexity, but for its crazy.
Loving you is easy because you are beautiful And loving you is all I wanna do Loving you is more than just a dream comes true And everything that I do is out of loving you.
我是一片浮萍，没有根的固定，浮在茫茫人海中，不知自己的方向和目的地。我一直在寻找灵魂的归宿，渴望心灵的温暖，等待某个人给我安全感。直到今天：“作我的女朋友好吗?”他终于清晰的出现在我的生命里。那一刻的震撼，让我可以清楚的听到心房的悸动。他的突然出现让我措手不及，当心中的浪潮完全把我淹没时，我连抵抗的勇气也没有，当然我也不想抵抗。
一直都把自己叫“暗地烂孩子”，倔强而固执的我行我素，根本不去想后果。任凭感情的一时冲动便草率地开始或结束一段恋情，让自己一次次受到惩罚，义无反顾地触碰那随时会爆炸的爱情炸弹，哪怕自己被燃烧成灰烬也甘愿。这究竟是顺从还是叛逆?或许两者都是：顺从自己，叛逆规则。曾经的我一度极端的认为所有约束感情的规则都是罪恶的。
在悲伤的时候，可以用破坏美好的东西制造悲剧来发泄，亦可听一段天籁之音使心情得到平静。消极和积极在我心中同时滋生成长。但我不想用理性去选择，我一直幻想有一天从耸入云霄的山顶纵身跳下的情景。云在我身边暧昧地缠绕，风在我耳边窃窃私语。即使不会瞬间长出丰盈的羽翼，也要张开双臂，在急速坠落的那一刻享受飞翔的快乐。我相信，那一刻，我的微笑才是最美的。
看着镜中的自己，还算明眸皓齿。走在阳光下，我的微笑依旧灿烂。别人眼中我是乐观的，仿佛不把任何失败当作回事，他们哪里知道，有时乐观也是―――种无奈。当我发现无力改变某些事情时，我所能够做的，也只有微笑。内心早巳被腐蚀的残缺不全，渐渐腐烂，散发着阵阵腐臭。而我从不会把这一面表现出来。透过心灵的一丝罅隙，我看到的却只有苍白、颓废、落寞、阴暗、冷淡和孤独。
他牵起我的手，一股暖流由他的指间直抵我的心脉，这种久违的温暖让我感动。走在灯红酒绿流光溢彩中，听他讲述树叶与蝴蝶的爱情故事。大概树叶在最后随风飘落的时候才会明白这是一段错误的爱情。但爱情又哪来的对错之分呢?错就错在当蝴蝶流连于花丛中时树叶的凝神关注。叶子爱上蝴蝶的那一刻时就是他无尽痛苦的开端。蝶的天堂里永远没有叶的位置。也许当叶子在最后的飞舞时才看到蝶的世界是如此多彩，也就没有理由再去苛求蝶的爱情。不管怎样，这片爱过的叶子都应该无怨无悔，套用一句老话：爱他，就放他自由。
人们歌颂爱情，往往不在于它的沧桑，而在于它的痴狂。