賣笑

笑，對於你，值多少？

我說的是真正的笑，不是純粹一組組繃緊的臉部肌肉。

人類或許是最能仿的動物。 我們的臉部肌肉多且well-developed。

但不管你相信與否，裝得越久，裝得越多，就越難分清真偽。 越愛臉譜的，就越討厭真正的自己。

笑，只是其中一張臉譜，也可能是戴得最多的。

當你幾時無力再裝時，看著散落一地的臉譜，會否覺得它們冰冷無情得令人心寒？

比賽

我看了一場比賽。

要贏這場比賽不容易， 她們備戰已久，甚至餓了幾個星期，心理生理方面皆處於“最佳狀態”。

她們每週末集體練習八小時，毫不鬆懈。 大戰前夕，個個嚴戰以待。

她們的戰衣一襲襲，閃閃發亮，wow，氣勢的先聲，猶勝武士的盔甲！

這場遊戲還要較量腦筋，是 a war of intelligence 。

噢，忘了說，她們還比經濟，比文化，比哲學，比民族意識。勁！

又要刻意化敵為友，識“做人”。

才藝，琴棋書畫，唱歌跳舞，甚至來個Chinese Kung Fu。

她們真正的武器是——

唇膏胭脂假睫毛… … nu bra 絲襪高跟鞋… …

還有笑容，是源源不絕地供應的笑容， 無時無刻挺胸收腹擠笑容， 絕絕對對的耐力比試。

有個支持不住暈倒台上，水銀燈吵吵的射在暈倒者身上，情況既尷尬又惹笑。

忘了說，這場比賽叫選美。

Everyday I Love You More and More

悲劇的延續

下班前, 鄰座傳出CNN 的breaking news：德州Fort Hood 發生了槍擊案! 十二人死亡，三十多人受傷。 當下我呆了，腦海很自然的浮起一句：又是瘋子！？ 同事已早一步知悉新聞，說：槍手聽說是個軍官，說不定是 post-traumatic stress disorder。

同事說時語調聽似平淡，但其實無奈。 我不是第一次聽她提起 post-traumatic stress disorder （PTSD）這名詞，她男友以前是當兵的，去過伊拉克， 駐守了一年多後，最近回家，重返校園。表面一切如常，但其實他卻受著 PTSD 折磨纏繞，晚上會失眠，會無緣無故發很大脾氣。 但令我最深刻的，是當她問起戰地的事，男友即時反應是：I don't want to talk about it。

是多痛苦或可怕的事才會令人不想說，不想回憶？

幾年前，六十分鐘時事雜誌報導一個從北韓逃跑到南韓的年輕人的故事。 這年青人原本在北韓時是個負責看守邊防的小兵。 一天晚上，邊防室就只有他和一位年齡相若的同事兼友人看守， 他看準機會，在那電光火石間下了決定—— 抓緊這刻逃出去！要不，自由的機會可能永不會再臨。 但要逃離高壓政治還要先爬得過高壓電網 ，一條長長的電網陣，分隔南北兩國。 小伙子們剝掉衣服，全身緊貼著泥地，連皮膚上的毛髮也不能觸碰到電線，要迅速地爬！ 他爬過了，回過頭來，用手示意朋友要趕快。 但幸運之神並未眷顧他的友人，他看著友人在自己眼前被高壓電擊斃⋯⋯

然而，情況不容許他停下來，他拔腿猛跑，直到遇上南韓的邊防守衛軍，然後舉手投降。

接受訪問時，他已經在南韓住了下來， 一個人。

訪問到尾聲，記者問了一個問題：有否想過你的家人結果會怎樣？ 年青人搖搖頭，用手蓋著眼說：I prefer not to talk about it。 那一刻，鏡頭內的訪問者和被訪問者都默默無言。

有些事，不是想說就能說，或想忘就能忘。

＊ ＊ ＊ ＊ ＊

回家再看有關槍擊案的新聞。 槍手39歲，是軍隊的精神科醫生。 精神科醫生？他可是要幫助同袍克服恐懼，克服post－traumatic stress disorder 的人⋯⋯ 現竟然是一個精神科醫生開槍亂殺人！

那批美軍，沒在伊拉克戰死沙場，卻死在家園，死在自己人的手上。

三十宜穿不宜穿

最近與好友聊天，談到近三十關口這話題，大家一致認同：人到“三張”，儀容打扮作風都應與年齡相配，畢竟已不是十八廿二。

不說談吐舉止，因為這些要以內涵修養歷練磨出來，日子有功則自然流露，要學也學不了。 我們倒有興趣談打扮，甚麼是三張宜穿不宜穿。 哈！我自問也算是個不太受年齡框框影響的人—— 心境年輕最重要，衣服穿得舒服合身就好。 然而，對於某些裝束，我仍是覺得過了二字頭不應穿。

頭箍－

頭箍本來是女性的恩物，有時候束辮子久了會令頭皮發疼，一個頭箍，就能簡單利落的令煩惱絲妥當貼服。 帶頭箍的女孩予人乾淨整齊的感覺，清新可愛。 但問題是，當你看見一個眼角有魚尾紋的女士帶著頭箍，那就完全是另一回事！ 儘管我還未有魚尾紋（touch wood，touch wood！）但已經受不了自己帶頭箍的樣子。 我四處尋找一些簡單百搭的，可以甚麼年紀都帶的好看的頭箍，但總尋不著。 所以，對年屆三張的女士而言，連低調的黑色棕色頭箍也難帶得好看，就更遑論那些鮮艷的有polka dot的有閃石的結著蝴蝶或花兒等等的，否則，變了desperate "kawaii"， 就令人看了活受罪。

結大蝴蝶的鞋子－

對，這樣的鞋子非常漂亮，是精品，但還是不要穿上腳好了，不然人家會覺得你一把年紀，還想走路一蹦一跳似的。

泡泡短裙－

雙腿再漂亮也好，也不要靠穿這種裙子去炫耀。 這些裙子留給小女孩或玩cosplay 的人吧。

粉紅配黑－

只宜Victoria Secret主打衣物類型。

我總是覺得這兩個顏色走在一起帶有動機不純的暗示，粉紅是小女孩或少女的顏色，很天真純潔；黑色則成熟深沉，亦可性感。 粉紅與黑令人聯想倒法國妓女裝束，即使用在 Chanel 的套裝上，這顏色也曖昧得過火。

花襪褲－

深色的還勉強可以，別的顏色會很嚇人。

有大蝴蝶結的衣物－

把大蝴蝶穿上身而穿得好看的，我記憶中只有窈窕淑女中的柯德莉夏萍。 東施效顰的話，絕對會有反效果。

粉艷腮紅－

那種把臉頰塗得一團粉紅的化妝，除非肌膚柔仍滑緊緻得像少女，否則不宜。

好，是時候翻開衣櫃，整理整理，穿出我的三十歲！

稍候再談“宜穿”⋯⋯

我又躲懶了

我又躲懶了。

不想上班，不想工作。

於是我請了一天假，對自己說，這是要給自己時間去完成 personal statement。

當然，personal statement 沒完成，連動也沒動過。

又一天。

我心裡總是在問自己：究竟最想做甚麼？ 是甚麼能夠給予我動力充實地生活？怎麼老是提不起勁去做該做的事？ 我身邊的人總是對我說：只要你找到自己最想做，最有興趣做的事，你就會自自然然會有股動力去做，而且會做得好。

問題就是，我更似在逃避那自以為愛做的事。那下一個問題就是：可能你以為自己熱愛做的事並不是你真正熱愛的。 於是又得問自己：那究竟甚麼是我真正熱愛的事？ 是我該更努力去找自己的passion，還是應把眼前的活兒幹好，才能發現passion？

究竟passion 在哪？甚麼是真正的passion，能產生自然的推動力去發熱發亮？是我沒聽見自己內心的呼喚？還是我一直太隨波逐流，導致埋沒了本性？

wait，wait，wait⋯⋯

那麼簡單的問題，要想得那麼複雜？ 就那麼一句：你最熱愛做的事是甚麼？竟把它當riddle！

好，既然未能誠誠實實答得上自己熱愛的事，就把視線移回現時的工作吧。為甚麼不想上班？

工作壓力不大，環境可以，同事們又很好，薪水ok 啦，比上不足比下有餘。 但工作性質不適合我。

哎呀！天呀！聽吓自己——“工作性質不適合我”！ 活脫脫的generation Y , Yeppie（young experimenting perfection seekers）—— 即是懶有理想卻極之迷惘，對工作沒有commitment 的一類人，心底裡渴望找一份能給予永恆快樂的優差。

⋯⋯

疊埋心水，做好呢份工吧啦。 （是啊，應效法特首的過氣勵志金句嘛。）

Live the life you love; Love the life you live

What life do you want to live?

As a person who is not endowed with a congenital and genuine sense of gratitude toward life, I am always in search of something that I am deemed unable to get. I know frustrations and the feelings of sorrowful yearning pretty well.

Maybe I simply want a "better" life, for the days on earth is too valuable to be taken lightly? Or maybe I just do not want to settle for less ...yet?

Could it be that I just want to strive that little bit more and see where I can get?

Could it be that I somehow compare too much my own story with the glamour in other people's so-called life, and in doing so I despise yet regret?

Or could it be that I so achingly remember fragments of the dim old days in which my pastel-coloured vision was obstructed by chaos and sadness?

Well, what is remembered is remembered. What had been forgotten sunk into the black box of consciousness, and from where they occasionally emerge in gloomy hues... through my dreams.

Dreams are carriers. So weightless yet so heavy.

I do not understand, and am not understood.

Biological clock is one matter, psychological sandglass is another. The two pace in huge discrepancies.

I have to catch up, yet I wish to stay. I want to lament, yet I ought not idle away.

* * * * * * * *

Somehow, somewhere, there is always (at least) one missing piece in life.

People say the missing piece is what keeps you going; and flaws make beauty complete. A life about love is one in which you feel pain. Love is an ability, not a feeling. Love endures hurts.

I used to...

I used to ponder little over this topic of what I am used to and what I am not.

Getting nostalgic now. Can't help...

I used to eat less but healthier.

Now my meals are filled with overly-proportioned meat and little veggie.

I used to exercise more often and with zest.

It is basically inconvenient to find time and place to work out now.

I used to be more flexible and resilient in yoga.

Can't blame anyone. The lack of practice makes my body dumb.

I used to loiter away afternoons in Starbucks, reading or doing nothing.

Now, Starbucks are miles away... and they don't have free magazines/newspapers here.

I used to enjoy (window)/ shopping alone.

I have to go with someone, otherwise I feel unsafe.

I used to walk more and faster.

Needless to explain about this one. Cars are not helping people to stay fit.

I used to have more time for myself and did not feel lucky or grateful for that.

I yearn for personal time. Now my time is sliced up into pieces and then falls all over the place.

I used to not experiment with cooking.

Newfound joy.

I used to love soaking myself in music.

My ears crave less indulgence now.

I used to have a tidier bedroom but a messier work station.

The result of not having anyone nag about messiness and less workload.

I used to get things done a little faster.

I used to speak softer but faster.

Can't get people hear you if not by shouting because the distance between walls are longer.

I used to not like children that much.

Children are kinda fun, well, sometimes.

I used to find American TV programs boring.

Some are actually pretty good.

I used to find getting up early in the morning exciting.

Simply don't want to get up early now.

I used to feel insecure about self but safe of the surroundings.

This is what bothers me most. I can't feel safe. There are more crimes here.

I used to be surrounded by more intense visual and audio stimulations.

Light pollution is equally bad, but just doesn't reach me. Noise pollution is truly less.

I used to eat out less.

New family, new habit.

I used to drink better filtered (not distilled) water.

Again, new family...

I used to have less MSG intake.

Chinese foods here are incomparable to those in Hong Kong. Without keen competition, demands on cooking skills remain low, hence the poor taste and lack of authenticity.

I used to at least find my jobs rewarding, if not fulfilling.

Now, I work to buy time or, worse, to pass time.