Was it simply the hysteria of a man who, aware deep down of his inaptitude for love, felt the self-deluding need to simulate it? His consciousness was so cowardly that the best partner it could choose for its little comedy was this miserable provincial waitress with practically no chance at all to enter his life!
Looking out over the courtyard at the dirty walls, he realized he had no idea whether it was hysteria or love.

I remember the first time I read this passage in Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being and how my heart had shuddered to a stop in a jolt of sharp recognition that I am easily the female counterpart of the protagonist.






This song kills me. Only because I think it is right on so many counts.
I sang it in ktv the other day and was bent over half the time because hearing this song makes me cry and singing it makes my guts double up in pain.


爱上他前后用不到一分钟


I have no idea whether it's hysteria or love either.
Is it a little comedy my consciousness is directing?
Is it an epic romance of proportions beyond my means?
The way these thoughts whirl around in angry circles in my head leaves me out of breath.

5:11 PM;

Corinne
email me

Singapore



I lean my head slowly to the side, reflect on the camellia on the moss of the temple, reflect on a cup of tea, while outside the wind is rustling the foliage, the forward rush of life is crystallised in a brilliant jewel of a moment that knows neither plans nor future, human destiny is rescued from the pale succession of days, glows with light at last and, surpassing time, warms my tranquil heart.

- The Elegance of the Hedgehog,
Muriel Barbery



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