The writer of "Irrawaddy Tango" and "The Coffin Tree"

"The role of the artist in the East is not to question and challenge the nature of reality but to reconcile society with reality. Self-expression in the Western sense is not the task of the artist in the East. Rather it is affirmation, repetition, the subjugation of the ego’s very desires and ambitions that preoccupy those in the West. "

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"History, after all, is the version of the victors. The history books are slanted in favor of the successful conquerors. Literature, on the other hand, documents the version of the conquered. I’m on the side of literature. "

Wendy Law-Yone

To Err Is Human

I stepped onto someone's spectacles..
why did he place them on my way?
didn't he know that I was going that way?
..on the ground..who would put glasses on the ground?
was it a trick?
was it an act?
..now they were under my shoes... they were not supposed to be under my shoes.
the owner of the spectacles was from China...I pretended that I didn't know Chinese..
I compensated him with $100.. that's all I had, my friend.
He kept on murmuring in Chinese, holding the broken glasses..I kept on pretending, looking at the red sky bringing in the storm...

it's not easy to be erroneous.
one has to be very careless and unobservant..
perhaps, I am too human..

...I am too human to not look for the things where they are not supposed to be..
..I am too human to not think that there are other human beings just like me who are ready to make errors..
...I am too human to not expect things coming into my way and only to realize it's too late after tripping..
..
..way too human..
..

...

Today I am very unfortunate..
Or yesterday or tomorrow..
..there is only callousness around me..
It’s only too cold..
so I try to smile… cheer up .. and be pleasant within my ability to do so..
…but too hard.. too hard to please you..
Maybe I have already been a vile person, and it’s too late to mend my standing..

I am back from 1999 to 2009..
just like ten years ago, through the clouds..
I could see the mountains, the ocean, the fields, buildings, rivers, trees, all the landscape from the sky.. and darkness and sunlight
there were tears on the little pillow..soaking wet.

just now I was looking at the wrinkled faces..theirs..his..hers and mine..
it was just now..
just now..
gazing upon the moon and not being able to distinguish it was a star or some other object next to it..I sang loudly and merrily.
there came raindrops onto my face when I was sound asleep..
after suddenly opening my eyes, I beheld the city night lights from the hill top, remembering all the lights that I had seen in my life.
it was just now--laughters, sobs, hugs, kisses, loud arguments--all around me..

now a plane's carrying my physical self to a place totally new to me..
it's just like ten years ago.

I remember there were
lots of planes..lots of trains..
lots of familiar faces, lots of unfamiliar faces..
lots of movements, lots of stillness..

I can't believe I am here now, just in a blink of an eye..
wasn't I there just now..?
How can I go back to those times?
How can I go back to those seconds?
How can I go back to those minutes?
How can I go back to those hours?
How can I go back to those days?

please tell me, how can I go back to those years?

where is the noodle soup? where is that warm blanket? where is that voice telling me to brush my teeth? where's that hiking trail? where are the city lights? where are the fishes? where is that snoring sound? where is that smiling moon? where is that little teddy bear? where are the noises from the playground? where is the small soft voice? where is the music? where is the coffee shop? where are the street lights? where are those faces?

where are they? where are they? where are they?

Now, there are only shadows around me..when I look around, there are only clouds!
How can I tell it was not a dream? too fast..just slipping away..
How can I tell I am not merely a dream?
yes, it's all a dream now..
I don't believe in Descartes anymore...
I think...but I am not there..
where is 1999?
how could everyone leave behind 1999?
how could I have forgotten 1999?
why could I never go back there anymore?
please tell me...
and please take me there again...

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I: Fragmentations

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I am physically and mentally old
and
broke at all times..
I have been away from home.. Drifting and drifting for many years..
Until someone stops me.. When will that be?
I got an IQ of 90 from one test and 142 from the other.
So I believe my IQ is fluctuating.
I once possessed a parrot and fed her chillies everyday to make her talk.
She died by eating too much chillies.
I am rude, cruel, jealous and gluttonous.
My mother critically believes that my father is a very tricky person
and I am exactly like him.
I am happy most of the time but try to believe that I am miserable
so that I can use that reason and have self-pity to treat myself
with good food and take naps as much as I desire.
When I eat, I become sleepy and when I sleep, I become hungry.
I can’t swim for the reason that I am so scared of water,
not because I hate water, but because water hates me.
After I die, I want my ashes to be spread over Irrawaddy River,
because that’s where my grandmother was born..
She had the sweetest smell and cutest face on earth.
I once lived in a small room, which had a little window
where I could see the moon every night.
I looked at it..so long.. until I felt dizzy and fell asleep.
I am very greedy, but too lazy to work hard to earn anything.
I just believe one day, and in a very near future,
I will find millions of dollars on the sidewalk
so I am very careful when walking down the street.
I paint, take photographs, make art pieces
and collect things from other people’s trash.
That’s all I possess in my life.
I’ve studied many different disciplines and become too confused
because everything needs hard slog.
I’ve done many different jobs and still remain at the same spot
because everything needs hard work.
Now I blame everything on establishment and the system.
I call myself “an artist” because that’s the closet category
I can put myself into
and I am too sluggish to find out other ones.
My best friend read my palm and said that I would die in 4 years.
Therefore, why make friends?
it's easier to make foes.
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Fantasy

Clouds : Undefinable Moments

My car stereo has been broken since the accident a while ago.
For some ridiculous reasons, I' ve always believed that I could fix it without going to the mechanic.
I used to fix things at my grandparents' house. I was pretty handy.
well..., there're some cases where things became worse and got into unusable state, but these were very rare. (at least I believe so!)
With such a great confidence, I've been waiting for the perfect day to do it, but that perfect day hasn't arrived yet..
why? .....??? just because that's me...
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it seems nothing to do with clouds...
but, in my case, it does...
since there's no music when I drive, I tend to look at the sky, especially at those clouds..
like music before, clouds become my companionship throughout the trips.
They accompany with me, follow my endless thoughts and go along with my different states of mind..
they are so fragile, forming irregular shapes..
is it all about the wind? or the environment? or their moods?
I can't guess how they will become everytime I observe them althought we've become so bonded over the course of our association.
they are mysterious.. unsolvable puzzles...
where do they come from? where are they going? where will they end up?
...I can't tell... I can't predict....I can't be certain...
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a couple of times, I painted clouds..
they were always changing their form on the canvas.. they wanted to escape..they wanted to be free, but they couldn't find a way, because I put them in boundaries.. I tied them up...
they couldn't get away..
and I hated those paintings..these are still in the garage..
I believe those clouds are still longing to run away from me..
how can I capture some clouds of my own?
how can I make them stay with me forever without so much aggressiveness?

yes, clouds are very fragile, but also.. extremely aggressive..

akin to clouds, my mind is always wandering ... as if there's no place to take refuge...
I ponder and ponder..
I wonder and wonder..
I reverie and reverie..
when will all these end?
how will all these end?
where will all these end?
... is there really an ending?...
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last night, when I drove back home, there was no glimpse of clouds.. it was such a dark night..
but I knew clouds were somewhere...invisible, but existing..
I was so sure they were watching over and escorting me till I felt asleep...
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that night, I didn't dream at all..




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