Tag Archives: Metaphors

Those Blurred Out Memories

There’s that file folder, or maybe, a file cabinet, maybe, with those, blurred out memories, that you’re still keeping for reasons, I wouldn’t know.  Those blurred out memories, why you keepin’ ‘em?  In hopes, that one day, they’ll all become cleared up, without the fogs surrounding them one day on their own?

Those blurred out memories, no use trying to remember their contents, they’re unimportant, that, was why you’re minds “deleted” those files, but just, hadn’t gotten around, to clean out the trash yet!  Those blurred out memories, what, do you think you’ll find, when you’d wiped the dusts away, when they’d become clear again?  Are you looking for forgiveness, to be delivered from them, the way that believing in god would deliver you away from your sins?

Those blurred out memories, let them stay blurred out, because, IF you wipe all those fogs away, what you find, maybe too shocking for you to accept, so, just leave it well enough alone now, you hear!

Those blurred out memories, what, do you hope, to achieve, by making them clear again?  And, are you, ready, to ACCEPT the consequences, of finding out what, exactly it is, that they entail?  Are you ready, to discover, what actually, lies beneath???

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Filed under Behavior Modifications, Being Exposed, Cause & Effect, Cost of Living, Decision-Making, Life, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Story-Telling, Suppressed Memories

A Game of Chess


Director, based off of the word, the most important role is to direct the performances of the actors and actresses.  On this, I’d become a student of.

Last month, there was a gathering of movie fanatics, where I’d met the director, Chi-Yen Yi.  Because of work, I’d just started working with a young actor who was under his directions from before, he’d asked me what I thought about the actor?  “He’s easy to film.” I’d told him, it’s really hard, to have a good actor like him.

“Easy to film”, is not to be taken as good looking on camera, from the angle of ads on TV, certain models look better from certain angles, and, we’d especially zoomed in on that.  And still, that’s in commercial, but, if we’re shooting a film, then, how can we just shoot one side of the actor or actress’s face?  That would be too weird, too awkward.

What I meant by “easy to film” is that the performance of the actor/actress is very natural, at the time I’m filming them.

Working with this kind of actors or actresses, as the camera started rolling, you wouldn’t want to shut it off again—you couldn’t help, but feel attracted to the performances the actors or actresses are giving, to the point you’d forgotten to yell, “CUT!”  and, when you’re editing, you’d realized, that almost EVERY single segment with her/him in it, is usable.  But you knew, that in order to perform so naturally, so realistic, it is, truly a difficult thing to do, this has to do with the performer’s concentration and imagination.  Of course, other than the talents, getting into one’s role is also a needed preliminary.

But, everybody gets tired from time to time, the performers couldn’t continually perform up to standard all the time, so, the camera crew must also be prepared.

As the actors and actresses walked on set to rehearse, the camera crews zoom in, the art crew made sure the props are all right, the sound department made sure that the quality of the sounds are up to standard………but wait, think of how those endless nights we’d taken to work, those cigarette butts, piling up, sky-high, along with all those vitamin, dietary supplements, what are they for?  For the sake, of capturing the actors’ and actresses’ outstanding performance, and, keep it recorded down, in the hard drives (originally, on the film strips, but now, film strips are rarely used).

This reminded me of chess.

Any game worth remembering are played, with an honorable opponent, so, the two of you can go back and forth, back and forth, continue together, perfectly.  Yes, we’re all, in search of perfection, filming is exactly so, both parties needed to work real hard.  If the actors or actresses didn’t remember the lines, couldn’t get into characters, then, it would be, wasting the filming crews’ time; but, if because of a technicality error, and lost the shot of the actors/actresses’ perfect moment on screen, then, the unprofessionalism is on the filming crew.

He’d easy to film, but, you couldn’t get the best shots of him.

This is all about work ethics, and having the professionalism, and, it is, like a game of chess, because you have to watch everything that’s going on, to make the right moves, this, is even more so in life, isn’t it???

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Filed under Expectations, Life, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Work Ethics



I’d hung a flag in my mindset, because today’s the Memorial Day of Peace, the wars sat in a row, the cannons stopped firing, just to hear a dove speak, with the goals of getting the nation’s economy up, by saving up on high-end feeds, and secondly, by building cheaper, more affordable cages for the pigeons.

And so, this signifies the desires of the people, in here, the pigeons are a metaphor for citizens of this country, and, what the citizens of this country are longing for is just having a stable job, a way to make a living, to feed one’s own family, oh, and a roof over our separate heads too, because before those first TWO level on the hierarchy of needs are filled, there’s NO way any of us can have the minds, to contemplate anything else further, after all, we are all, living things, that need to keep ourselves alive and safe, right???

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Filed under Cost of Living, Government, Policies, & Politics, Life, Observations, Story-Telling, Wake Up Calls

Writing is a Lot Like Cooking

You must be patient!!!  You CAN’T hurry the process of creativity…

Writing is a lot like cooking, you must get the temperature just right, or, whatever it is you’re preparing will be undercooked or burnt on the stove.

Writing is a lot like cooking, because, as you’re writing your first drafts (you ARE, doing multiple drafts, right???), it’s like how you’re still deciding on what to make for your meals, you added a little bit of this, a little bit of that, taste it, and, if it’s bad, then, you’d have to, throw the entire pot out, just like if the ideas don’t flow smoothly, you will have to, crumple up that piece of paper, or, delete that file you were working on on the computer, and start all over again.

Writing is a lot like cooking, you just have to do everything step-by-step, and you can’t skip the parts, because it wouldn’t end up as you hoped it would if you do.  Writing, like cooking, is also a skill that will be perfected, with many practices, so, don’t expect your firsts to taste like those foods from the 5-Star Michelin Restaurants OR your first essays to be without errors big or small.

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Filed under Communications, Expectations, Life, Perspectives, Writing

The Dolls You’d Shattered, Were Not JUST Dolls

The dolls DO come alive, and this time, it’s in the daytime, instead of the nights…

The dolls you’d shattered, were NOT just dolls, oh no, they’re a metaphor for something else, but what???  Nobody knows!  The dolls you’d shattered, were not JUST dolls, they’re parts of you that you disowned, the parts of you that you didn’t like, like some characteristics about yourselves, that others said that are bad???  The dolls you’d shattered, were NOT just dolls, but how can that be?  They were dolls, with glass bead eyes, white porcelain faces, with those delicate dresses on them, unless, unless, the dolls DO come alive when we’re not looking…

The dolls you’d shattered, were not JUST dolls at all, they’re portions of you, that you lost in your childhood, and, as an adult, you started to recall, very slowly, all those countless dolls you’d shattered, the you you’d managed to destroy from a very long time ago, and you start to finally, MOURN for the losses, of those cleanly looking, well-dressed, blonde, brunette, red-headed, porcelains, and you used to name all your dolls too, but now, you just can’t recall what each and every last one of them are called…

The dolls you shattered, were NOT just dolls, they’re piece of you that got taken from you as a child, and now, they manifested themselves, the lost parts, and the broken pieces of those incomplete porcelains, they’re all, coming back, to GET you!!!

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Filed under Abandonment of Children, Awareness, Early Exposures, Loss, The Doll Corner

The Wedding Ceremony in the Rain


Several evenings of the week, the man who’d sold steamed buns would wheel his cart to the entrance of the alley, used his own made-up words, called out what he was selling that evening.  I didn’t know if he’d sold steamed buns, but when I’d heard him hollered so loudly, I’d known, that I didn’t leave my bedroom, head to my class, the library, or the dining hall, any place that would evade the dusk.  His voice, had allowed me to know, that it’s dusk.

The trumpeter before dark, set up at the street entrance, waited for me.  I’m usually not at home at dusk.  Because I couldn’t deal with the gray in my bedroom.  The day that’s slowly gone, like the river, rushed into my small room, making my furniture grow molds.  I’d started living on my own since age nineteen, and the insides of that sort of room had the years accumulated, and, the weight of the world all around, and finally, it couldn’t handle it any longer and sank down.  Last year, the wooden bed boards had a crack on it, I’d piled my boxes underneath, to prevent the crack from getting bigger.  I feel very sorry toward my landlord, that I’d managed to ruin the place.

The house that’s leaning on the hills, and had a ton of moistures would always needed the machines to help get all the waters out.  I’d started running the machine before I left the house, and afterwards when I came back in, the place would be dried.  I’d often reminded of how there was an abandoned construction site in the movies, and that there was a watering hole that’s separated from the rivers at the center of the construction site, and a few of the unaccepted people would go there to live, and gaze into one another’s eyes, then, have sex.

The man who sold the buns would come on sunny days, pushing along his steamed car.  From time to time, I’d see a few older ladies open up their doors to buy, he’d taken off the Styrofoam lid, and tighten up the bags which had the buns in them, the scent would attack my nose.  When he’d showed up, the sun had turned dark, I didn’t know if his being there had caused the graying out of the alley.  I’d passed through the buns he was selling, but never once, reached in to buy one.

One evening it was raining, I’d walked passed a huge puddle of water, as I’d returned onto my street, the man who’d sold the buns actually showed up, in the dampened air, he’d hollered out, “Buns!  Buns!  Buns!”

It’d become the music in the rains, with the evidence, and the rituals, there’s a wedding in the rain to be held, to even with me, the evenings I’d endured.

Come, come have a bun, after you’d had one, start working hard, and start living as pure, and as clean as the white buns then.

I’m truly in need, of a wedding in the evenings.

And so, the wedding is symbolic of bliss, and, watching the interactions of the world down below is a kind of bliss for this writer, and, she’d marked her days, with the external stimuli she’d encountered from where she lived, a way, one can “mark” one’s life, I suppose…







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Filed under Life, Observations, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, The Observer Effect

Finding the Circus

Quality time, spent, between parent and child, translated…

There was a group of animals inside of me, monkeys, tigers, lions, giraffes, squirrels, birds, an assortment of creatures and critters…

They would often perform outstanding shows, one right after the next, and I’m their only faithful audience.

Only you!  So amazing!

Gently, tapped to the right, found the squirrel; slowly, pressed down on the keys to the left, out came the elephants; sped toward the middle, out came the roars of the lions and the tigers too.

You and I, made the circus come alive, on this black and white map of ours.

An interesting way of describing piano-playing, isn’t it?  About a parent and a child, practicing, making music together, and that, is the time we will get to share, you and I…

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Filed under Because of Love, Childhood, Connections, Creative Writing, Family Matters, Life, Observations, Perspectives, Socialization, Values

The Game of God, Man, and Demons


A shiny spirit dog, looking like a god, he rammed into the world of demons that’s filled with sorrows and pains and scariness, on his way, he’d passed through the caves with the sharpened teeth, and managed to rouse up the bats that flew all over the places, like how the world of the demonic had sneezed, then, that, was when the spirit dog realized, “This place, is NOT the world of demons!”, because he smelled the scent of the more humans………(more humans?  It’s actually, how the people had pressed down on that Kudos button on their Facebook pages.)

And so, this, is merely, the “interactions” of the public on someone’s Facebook page, and, the dog is a metaphor, probably, for someone who doesn’t even KNOW what Facebook is, and, the “dog” had its first taste of what Facebook is, and the effects it has.


Filed under Codependence, Cost of Living, Early Exposures, Facebook, Interpersonal Relations, Life, Properties of Life, Socialization, Translated Work, Trends, Writing


The dreams that were lifted intentionally

Will eventually face up to the unevenness of the reality

So, this is what???  One of Newton’s Law of Motion: what goes UP must come down, right?  And, that just shows you, that there’s NO highs or lows for forever, as life is made up of a TON of highs AND lows.


Filed under Expectations, Life, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Reality Clashes with Dreams, Values, Wake Up Calls

Not Quite Old Enough Yet


Often felt that there are still too much fun to be had

Even though, I had been crushed by the years, to the point that I couldn’t even stand up straight anymore

But I still feel

As though right now, I’m still not yet old enough

Look at those big sycamores in the park

Living right next to the noisy streets

Their beards had already grown to the ground now

And they’d still tilted their heads toward the heavens

Wouldn’t believe, and kept touching that slow moving old bull that’s tilling up the land

Whose hairs had thinned out around the neck, from wearing the tilling equipments

And its teeth, other than chewing on some freshly grown grass

Were still staring into space, and it still didn’t feel bored

Just kept dreaming that it was a butterfly that could fly away

That had once kept guard over the dawn, as it’d been through the ups and downs, the highs and lows of its own life

And that man, who’s an elderly, had finally been returned, BACK to his childhood state

Drank down on that aged alcohol that’s too spicy for him to handle, and still puts on a smile, to greet all who came

Even though, he getting murdered little by little by the passing seconds of time

And, there are a TON of bullet holes on the outside of his physique

All those ancient buildings that had weathered through the years

Still stood tall and proud, without an inkling of fear

And that, is how one should FACE old age, with bravery, knowing that death is coming close, but still doesn’t waver or scare, and that, is truly, aging with grace.

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Filed under Coping Mechanisms, Cost of Living, Creative Writing, Lessons, Life, Maturation, Poetry, Translated Work, Values, Wake Up Calls