On a good day, especially when the weather permutations are right — when the air is cool, the wind is blowing and the sun shines right into my eye — I often see a future that I daren’t hold too close in my heart for fear the devil might see through the deepest desires in my wicked heart and take in away. And at that specific time, it’s a fleeting image right at the back of my eyelids - a quick glimpse in a blink - before reality snaps back and I sit back slightly pleased that no one probably saw that. On a really good day.

(On a bad day, the devil covers my eyes.)

That early morning, I woke up in a fit and you were still sleeping. And while trying to wrestle out of our tangled bodies, I decided that if I left that secret in an unsuspecting heart, the devil could never take it away. Because how can the devil take away something that you never knew was there? So in between gulps of whiskey, I managed to whisper something — softly, quietly, so neither of you would hear it.

And when I woke up, there was a sinking feeling and I knew for sure that I had left that secret in the wrong heart. For suddenly the future seemed too close to disintegrating on itself and I had been too stupid to know that the devil himself came to collect it personally.

Some nights, I really want to scream. And it’s mostly about the things I cannot change. Those that I can, I have. Those that I haven’t, I will. But those that I can’t, I haven’t accepted. It’s this dissatisfaction that causes this dull ache and these phantom tears and I will never understand why it’s hard to be.

Yet it’s this dissatisfaction which taunts me from behind that makes me want to look back and spit in its face. That does nothing to push me forward in life, but all I want to do is to finally embrace it so I may roll off a cliff with it. 

———————————————

I think of all my lovers — past, present and potential — and I wonder if the threads of fate are real, and if reality is could be a figment of my imagination. Or if I’m still sleeping in a drunken stupor, or if I’m a life-sized digital render of a another lifeform that couldn’t move in their universe?

I have watched multiple lifetimes and outcomes go by in a dream, only to wake up disappointed that I haven’t died yet.

hasisipark:

A gap between shooting, usually there’s a crack. It wedges into the other dimension, splits a moment and spreads whole different vision which looks exactly same as where I am at, in and on but strangely the shadow never seems to get caught by my lens and so its weight and size disappears. What I’m saying is, I guess, there’s my moment created by not me when I’m not with a camera. 
 I like looking at things through a camera lens, love the feeling of being blocked, totally and simply alone. Although sometimes the subject make eye contact with me, still I feel alone and get aroused, which doesn’t necessarily relate to voyeurism I would say, then what, something else, perhaps a selfishness? independent spirit?  Would it be sexual anyway? 
 Back to the crack, it gives me such a pleasure. It’s most likely a bag of Margaret (Cookies) on a location tea table. That pleasure, however, I’d like to just stare at it rather than shooting. I see and enjoy the crack and close my eyes to memorize it instead of leaving one memorable photograph. 
We, several photographers talked about this crack a few times recently and I guess it’s a common issue to people whether they should hold a camera or not for a immortal moment to CAPTURE what they see. I’ve always thought that a man make the moment immortal but since I run into the crack, things are different and undefinable. 

hasisipark:

A gap between shooting, usually there’s a crack. It wedges into the other dimension, splits a moment and spreads whole different vision which looks exactly same as where I am at, in and on but strangely the shadow never seems to get caught by my lens and so its weight and size disappears. What I’m saying is, I guess, there’s my moment created by not me when I’m not with a camera. 

 I like looking at things through a camera lens, love the feeling of being blocked, totally and simply alone. Although sometimes the subject make eye contact with me, still I feel alone and get aroused, which doesn’t necessarily relate to voyeurism I would say, then what, something else, perhaps a selfishness? independent spirit?  Would it be sexual anyway? 

 Back to the crack, it gives me such a pleasure. It’s most likely a bag of Margaret (Cookies) on a location tea table. That pleasure, however, I’d like to just stare at it rather than shooting. I see and enjoy the crack and close my eyes to memorize it instead of leaving one memorable photograph. 

We, several photographers talked about this crack a few times recently and I guess it’s a common issue to people whether they should hold a camera or not for a immortal moment to CAPTURE what they see. I’ve always thought that a man make the moment immortal but since I run into the crack, things are different and undefinable. 

"It’s too warm to move," you said. But you still pushed the hair out of my face. "It’s blocking your face."

"I know. This is my third popsicle. Stop touching."

Time blurs whenever I’m over at yours. I can never tell if it’s morning or night simply because you’re all curtains and no windows, and time seems to both speed up and slow down. Before I know it, hours fly by - yet when I look over at your clock, the hour hand still hasn’t moved and time is crawling. Is the heat draining away my sensibilities? I don’t know. Summer is a shiny sheen of slick that befuddles me and I can’t trust my own eyes.

I don’t want to do anything during the summer — not to work, to talk, to have sex, to eat, to run, to go out, to talk, to lie, to think, or to write. So during our break from work, all we did was to whine about the heat, to indulge in fantasies and whims, to read our own books, to roll a cold beer down arms before drinking it so fast it runs down our necks, to understand how the intricacies of the wretched weather affect the human condition (and us). “Did you know people are more prone to lying in hot weathers?” you turned to tell me. “That’s bullshit,” I said. “Of course, you gullible idiot,” you said. “That was the heat talking.”

But you were right. It had been too hot to think things through, and hot enough to have to lie so that I wouldn’t have dig up some sort of explanation to other people for my behaviours. The sweat soaks through the clothes, and seeps back into the machinery, rusting up the mechanisms and in return, nothing ever works during the summer.

"Let’s move to where it’s colder," you murmured. I sucked up the last of the popsicle and left the sticky, wooden stick on top of your singlet. I turned to look at you and it was a funny sight. Your eyes were half-closed, a languid hand wiping away the ceaseless sweat, the furrowed brows — the heat has left you in a state of laughable helplessness and it’s funny. This situation is funny. And laughable.

I don’t recall last summer to be this warm, but this time round, it’s unbearable.

"Yes, let’s." I whispered.

jameskirke:

THIS MODERN LOVE // a love story for the new age, for late night hand-holding under neon skies that light up your face, for digital heartbeats and synthesized sighs and electric eyes cast towards your sweetheart who shimmers like kaleidoscopic stars in the midnight sky. 

listen | download

(Source: jameskirke, via elucipher)

I scooted into a seat at the back of church, not in my usual place. And it took me a while to realise that I was standing behind you - I forgot that the mole on your neck existed. And while there was still a faint wrenching pain somewhere in my chest, I think I’m glad that my memory of you has turned out better than real life.

Of all the roles Tony has played, Cop 633 might just be my favourite (this choice might change tomorrow). Perhaps particularly so because he looks impish and childish in this film unlike the rest, perhaps particularly so because he’s not miserable unlike in In the Mood for Love and 2046.
But most of all, particularly so because of the way he looks at Faye — and Wong Kar Wai makes it so easy for us to imagine that we’re Faye. When Cop 633 walks out from the darkness and into the shop in that moment — just for that very moment — and takes off his hat, we see those winsome eyes and in that moment, it’s very easy to be Faye. Or want to be Faye.
The scene where he spends an hour trying to finish his coffee in slow-mo while the rest of the world rushes by. In a busy Hong Kong, that seems to be impossible, especially for a cop on his beat. But it seemed like he did it just for you.

Of all the roles Tony has played, Cop 633 might just be my favourite (this choice might change tomorrow). Perhaps particularly so because he looks impish and childish in this film unlike the rest, perhaps particularly so because he’s not miserable unlike in In the Mood for Love and 2046.

But most of all, particularly so because of the way he looks at Faye — and Wong Kar Wai makes it so easy for us to imagine that we’re Faye. When Cop 633 walks out from the darkness and into the shop in that moment — just for that very moment — and takes off his hat, we see those winsome eyes and in that moment, it’s very easy to be Faye. Or want to be Faye.

The scene where he spends an hour trying to finish his coffee in slow-mo while the rest of the world rushes by. In a busy Hong Kong, that seems to be impossible, especially for a cop on his beat. But it seemed like he did it just for you.

(Source: godzilla23, via murderous-moon)


"Tony’s very laid back and quiet, while I’m boom-boom-boom, let’s go! And he can relax me a little. He’s a very sensitive guy, and that’s important, especially when you do a lot of improvising. You don’t want to have this macho guy who’s just there looking great and standing on your foot… When I first met him, we were very young. But he already knew then what movies are about. I didn’t. I wasn’t interested. So at that time I wasn’t his match at all. He totally disregarded me. After In the Mood for Love, he could tell I improved. Now we’re finally on par.” — Maggie Cheung
"Working with Maggie is very different, as she is like my alter ego. We started our careers at almost the same time and acted opposite each other in our first television series and on some other occasions—like on the Days of Being Wild sequel, which was never released, and on Ashes of Time. But we did not work opposite each other again until In the Mood for Love. Maggie is a truly formidable partner—one to waltz with. We do not spend a lot of time with each other, as we like to keep some mystery between us. When I see her, I discover something new about her.” — Tony Leung

"Tony’s very laid back and quiet, while I’m boom-boom-boom, let’s go! And he can relax me a little. He’s a very sensitive guy, and that’s important, especially when you do a lot of improvising. You don’t want to have this macho guy who’s just there looking great and standing on your foot… When I first met him, we were very young. But he already knew then what movies are about. I didn’t. I wasn’t interested. So at that time I wasn’t his match at all. He totally disregarded me. After In the Mood for Love, he could tell I improved. Now we’re finally on par.” — Maggie Cheung

"Working with Maggie is very different, as she is like my alter ego. We started our careers at almost the same time and acted opposite each other in our first television series and on some other occasions—like on the Days of Being Wild sequel, which was never released, and on Ashes of Time. But we did not work opposite each other again until In the Mood for Love. Maggie is a truly formidable partner—one to waltz with. We do not spend a lot of time with each other, as we like to keep some mystery between us. When I see her, I discover something new about her.” — Tony Leung

(Source: strangewood)

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