|| In the eve of the 2007 New Year

This is the three day new year's weekend, but I work so hard everyday till 2pm-3pm in the morning, only to wake up in the bright daylight, but with painful feelings, not looking forward to anything in the hours to come, in the days to come. The castles fell, the dreams lost, all the improbable, what do people know, I am sad over you.

Yang was with me all the time. I asked her at the beginning of the three days, what we would accomplish by the end of the three day freedom, and now it's already 2/3 gone. Yesterday I wrapped up 2006 work by completing all 360 reviews and self appraisals, do not want to think or write or say anything related to the past two years. I have painfully built myself to my fall, you can never be mine, you can never be true, you will never come to my dream. I should be over you, over me, over us.

I do not need to know what you become, who you are, where you go, what you think. I say that you don't know what you lose, you say that you know perfectly well what you give up. Though I shall never know, I look at you, you have not said a word, you have not shown up, you have not opened up, why do I not have the right? I do not have the right, but I remember all the details, wonder what they mean, oh, what a fool that I think of their meanings, that I continue to fool myself that you know what you lose, if not now, it's some day, some time, some place. That will have nothing with me, I have nowhere to go, but I cannot return. I've gone too far, that I've got to throw my castle away. In my dreams, the dreams last so so so long, that you could not have the dreams in all your life, they will never come true.

You have been very harsh and harsh on me even after the days, but why do you hate me when you hurt me so? I do not ask why, I do not think of you, I do not remember the details, after today, after 12pm, after here. 'Cause it's 2007. I should learn not to pick up what's not good for me, I was mistaken, and the mistake is costing me.

Today I made lots of calls to mom, friends, college buddies, people I've seen, people I've not seen in the month. I did not call you on the New Year, no, I will not. You have not been good to me in any way, in any relations, in any humane definitions possible. You have not shown up, no, you will not. We are reversed of guilt, of pain, of burden, of love, of sadness. I do not need to know. I will learn. I will work, over time.

Tomorrow it is 2007, there will be no you, it will be me. Happy New Year to me, my dear, it will be 2007 soon, and 2008.

|| 2 days on the road to San Francisco

Pacific Ocean


Seal


Seal


Seal


17 miles drive

Pictures contributed by Rocky, cheering me up a bit 'cause they are so beautiful

|| The Room

I"m sitting in a room, "all this and I'm supposed to be the mistress".

Heavy curtains coving the overview window prevent the darkness of the night penetrating into the room. Green tea table and chairs stand in the front, easy for a relaxed Sunday afternoon, "enjoying the weather". Coming inside, sofa, table, media center, impressive not exactly in a good way, obviously things had been moved from the old place. A little bit further, solid wood dining table with six chairs, then kitchen. It is good hardware and smart design to a certain degree, very lightly used, but dirty glasses sit in the sink, maybe for weeks. The fridge and the washer sit on one side, a tad smaller than my taste, but believe fully functional for a family of young professionals. A balcony is then attached to the kitchen facing north, a working balcony, for hanging clothes, machines and etc.

It is the room, things scattered all over the place, utility tools, remote control, circuits, gadgets, cloths, shoes, papers, and everything one can imagine about life and work. But the room does not have me, although I'm absolutely sitting here, with wet hair coming right after the shower. Oh no, there is no me. I understand why I end up in this place, with the permission of the owner, and tonight could well be the time when I have to say goodbye and farewell. It is very hard on me, considering I may have asked for everything here and now nothing belongs to me yet I am sitting here as of this moment.

Also puzzling, my letters are exactly organized in a zipped plastic folder, on the table, could it be as there are no drawers, or the owner has prepared to return them to the originator? Not so puzzling is the harshness being in a dead relationship, something that breaks the heart, crushes the faith, and destroys love.