Story of Good Time
流水它帶走
光陰的故事
改變了一個人
就在那多愁
善感而初次
等待的青春
羅大佑《光陰的故事》
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Dear Kate,
What is a good day? I feel like I have asked you this question before. I have certainly asked myself today, and probably the day before too. It certainly is the sort of question that speaks about the human quest.
I say a good day is one when you would find yourself weeping once and twice and you couldn't see why you should stop giving yourself away this way, let alone feeling embarrassed about the gifts. And it is the same day when joy would surprise you once and twice, slam at the back of your head like a curve ball from the left field, shake and wake you from the mechanical workings of being You to the magnificent glory of being human. Not infrequently sorrow and love would flow mingled down.
I had a good day today.
You long for life and that's a true prayer, the only language you know how to speak that is not bullshit. Seek and ye shall find.
What did I seek? Too much. I don't know how to stop. Why should I? Before dinner I downloaded 36 free eBooks and I will read them all soon enough. Why settle for 35?
Learn from the children. Not the ones sitting in front of a screen, those who are already "adulterated." See how a toddler going down a block stopping for and putting everything in his mouth and, in essence, wondering about it all? Take and taste. It's never too big a risk dying to live. Living dead is for zombies, rotting humans.
Get close to what gives life. Living people living exuberantly. Here song above made me cry today, came out of me as I kept working, hands flipping paper and tapping keyboard, tears part of my work's duty and honor, all of one piece.
Stream runs away
Carries the story of time
Makes over a person
A time once upon which
The poignancy of youth
I first ached for
You know what's amazing? The words are so simple and simply put together and set to a few simple notes you don't even have to move your hand playing them on the piano or raise your voice singing them. But I don't know how to do it, put words together simple and true. I can't do what the songwriter does for me, speaking for me, like he knows and understands and, most of all, cares. He seizes beauty and sets her free. Singing along with him I felt blessed.
I wish you a good night.
Yours, Alex
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