童年，你走地还真快

最近不知怎么了，总是爱念旧。小时候做过的事情玩过的游戏看过的电影，突然想回到童年期，没有电脑没有手机没有面子书的那种简单日子。

终于把Toy Story 3一口气的看完了，这么幼稚的故事情节，到最后还不是把我的眼泪给逼了出来。好久没有这样尽情的哭了。

其实每集我都哭了，这陪着我长大的动画片^_^

玩具们不顾一切的想回到自己主人身边， "to be there for him, no matter what"，虽然有点老套，但回想以前一整天就只对着玩具谈天说地，那个时候，真的，玩具就等于天下了。但就像 Andy 一样，长大后都把玩具搁在一旁看也不看一眼，功课电脑考试书本把玩具们都给取代了，但却都不舍得丢掉。

有时会觉得奇怪。一个男孩儿怎么会有个芭比娃娃呢？

到了最后一幕，Andy 准备离开了，他和妈妈一起走进几乎空荡荡的房里，剩下那蓝色星星的墙纸，还有他和玩具们的合照，回到了最初最原本的样子；他的妈妈顿时愣住了，仿佛突然发现儿子长大了，时间一下子都不知去了哪儿，眼前那小小的男孩不见了，而剩下的是即将离开的小大人。

那一刹那我鼻头酸了。

当初收拾房间准备到莎亚南时不也这样吗？多么地依依不舍，对着空荡荡的房里，还有那些被留下来的我的童年 -- 我的小说集我的玩具娃娃们 -- 又不能随身携带，又放不下的。到了抉择的时候才发现原来这些东西对我来说其实非常珍贵，就像 Woody 对 Andy 很重要一样。

触动人心的一幕。真的，我哭得更惨了，这离开前最后一次一起的快乐

有时怀疑长大与年龄岁数的增长无关。成长，是不是更应该以一个人面对抉择的次数来衡量呢？

看完了 Toy Story 问问自己，如果自己的玩具真的和人一样会伤心会绝望会开心会不舍，他们会不会想我了？他们又会不会怀疑我？而将近二十的我还记不记得以前玩玩具那单纯的快乐？

我深信，每个人心中都有个长不大/不想长大的孩子。故事里 Andy 把玩具们一个个介绍给 Bonnie 时的那种热忱的稚气，然后对 Woody 不舍的神情；其实他也和我一样，对自己的童年依依不舍不想就这样放开，就算不能回到过去，也不能让自己的童年不留点痕迹。看着十几岁的 Andy 和小小的 Bonnie 拿着玩具追来追去，自己有多久没有这样毫无拘束了呢？

好想当那小女孩儿…

虽然只是一部很孩子气的动画片，却蕴藏着很多我的心声。没有后悔看了这一部戏。

希望自己永远都不用把自己的玩具都送掉，那该有多痛苦！不能想象和我的‘小枕头’分离。

咳，离开的时间渐渐逼近了。若一切都能如愿进行，再过几个月又是收拾行李的时间了。这一次应该会走得更远更久了呗。那个时候，妹妹应该很大了，房间应该也会被她占据不会空荡荡的；当然，感觉也就不同了。一定会想念，现在房间的味道。

Andy 把玩具送完了后驾着车子离去的背影，挺帅的。放开了一切，心里肯定难受极了。不过，把东西留在一个会照顾自己心爱的物品的人，过一阵子，应该就没事了吧？如果是我，把该放开的都放下了，我离去的背影，会不会一样地潇洒，一样的帅呢？

童年啊童年，你走地还真快。

又想回家了。还真不该写部落格的。明天，明天我就回来了我的家！

后记：

突然觉得Andy好帅哦！！！

电死人的双眼 *晕*

日记

这字迹太美了吧，称得上是日记么？

前阵子重新翻阅以前写过的日记，几乎每一页都是些不开心的事。也许是心情低落时更有写日记的情趣吧。也许每次写日记的时候都近凌晨一两点，都是夜深人静特别想家的时候。

我的日记，称不上是日记呗。有什么不开心的或是心情不好时才挖出来发泄发泄，隔一两个月才写一次，然后发现自己好像把很多该记录的都给忽略了，不该记的…… 呵呵。

有时候把以前写过的日记重新翻出来，挺爽快的。以前的自己和现在的自己，心里想的钢笔写的，就连字迹也都不同了；时间的确把很多东东都给偷走了。还记得我的第一本日记，字可没几个，像人又像猴的画儿却多的是。

人？猴？原来google一下发现六岁的自己还蛮有毕加索的天分 XDXD

六岁的自己，竟然已把八卦的基因完全显现出来了。画中有话，话中也有画，就在那不成人形的自画像里找回以前曾经拥有的天真。

过后，很久都没再写了。

功课多的是，考试更不用说了。空闲时都逃到小说故事里去，写日记的习惯就这样被埋在桌子某个阴暗的角落了。

可能上了中四特别多烦恼，也可能突然发觉我的中学生涯即将告一段落，更可能的是因为看了某某小说有感而发，又开始写日记了。不过，这一次的日记，不再像以前六岁的自己一样--今天吃了炸鸡昨天弄哭了朋友明天想要吃幼儿园超棒的炒面--什么有的没的都给写下来。这一次的日记可是解压之记，不是发疯似的把当时疯狂追着的小说一字一句地往里面挤，就是发疯似地往牛角尖里钻。那个时候的日记，应该是被荷尔蒙占据了。

这几天的日记，却满满的都是想念。每次到了夜深人静的时候才开始写日记，房里就只剩下耳机里轻轻的爵士音乐，还有远处时不时传来的摩托引擎声。室友们都睡着了，灯也关得差不多了，应该复习的书本都关起来不想去理它了。

闭上眼睛，全世界好像就只剩我一个人。

是时候写日记了。

就差那一根烟，不然我就是作家了。XDXD

可能因为这样，每次把日记给挖出来的时候心情都不怎么样，中午玩得多疯多神经质都好，只要到了这个时候这个场景，就是写不出那种快乐疯狂的感觉，剩下的就只有思念。

才区区的三个礼拜没回家就到了这个地步，以后的两年半怎么过啊？

我知道，得学会怎么独立，人生到最后还不是自己一个人过，总不能为谁或谁而活；我可每天都告诉自己叻！说易做难嘛，把日记打开那一刹那就忍不住想回家了。看着日历，每天至少都要数一次，离回家的那天到底还有多久。

还剩三天。*叹*

想家，想得快疯了的时候最想被紧紧抱着的那安全感。

那人背影有点像 Maroon5 的 Adam Levine 哦！

哎，怎么从日记说到想念去了。不行了啦，我要回家！

是应该在日记里写些开心的事了吧。

“今天，其实我也过得很不错！^_^ 下雨天挺舒服的，该做的大多也都做完了。”

今天的日记，开场白就这么写吧！

I Would Die For You

But I wouldn't live for you.

Before you start screaming at me, no, I do not like tattoos. 

That's the quote I saw, and found pretty amazing, in The Perks Of Being A Wallflower.

It's been some time since I've read anything like this -- simultaneously light and heavy, very youthful and yet old, about friends, about love, about all those crazy stuff that we all do when our age defies us.

One of the little reliefs these days. :)

Granted, I do not approve of many of the crazy things they did -- pot, smoke, sex, abortions and all those. It's a little too crazy, and potentially disrupting with permanent side effects. Plus, there's Charlie trying to participate by trying all those forbidden apples. Are you really not participating if you're not smoking, doing pot or having sex?

Of course, I do not approve. There are far better ways to participate in life, Charlie.

However, the underlying theme of not participating in life-- being a wallflower, is worth pondering on. There are so many themes in the book worth looking over, and I vow to read the book at least twice someday in the future. *snorts* Make that a really far future.

Being a listener isn't really one of my strong points. I like to talk. Chattering, singing, mumbling, grumbling, nagging, scolding, laughing, giggling, chirping --  all these I can do; in fact, i'm pretty sure I'm good at it. Harping on and on in this blog should be enough to convince you of that.

I'm pretty sure you don't need FIVE people to talk that much. You just need ME.  :x

But listening. Really really listening. Like Charlie do. Put aside the fact that he's a wallflower, he's a really great listener. He really does understands, and he really does listen, and I guess that makes a really really desirable friend. He never really thinks about what he wants first; he's always trying to understand all the motives and feelings and reasoning lying beneath the epithelial layer. He's always observing (sounds creepy, I know, but still).

One of his more finer points.

And living. Dying for someone is --really-- not really that big a deal, once you think of it. It's usually just a split second decision -- to jump in front of a moving train to push someone aside, to shield a baby with your body against falling debris. Almost instinctual, if I might say.

But to live for someone. That's... That's really something. And I guess a lot of us, whether we know it or not, live for someone or the other. I know I do. I know I shouldn't too, but I can't help it. Sometimes you even lose yourself if you're not careful. To live for someone. To alter your paths, set your sights, your future, your decisions, all because of you want to please someone.... That's something real serious.

I mean, sure, you might change your routine a little just to see that person smile, try things that person like just to see how it feels. Friends, families, lovers. Whoever it might be. But it is these small things that eventually changes who you are, and forms a new you. Sometimes, it turns out alright-- your lucky stars shine and you turn out successful... But what if it doesn't?

My lucky star shone. I grew a liking for bitter things. Or is it me who's getting bitter?

Is it truly right to live for them and lose sight of your own life?

Perhaps I'm simply thinking too much. Perhaps living for someone is part of life and the realisation of it. Perhaps living for someone is living for yourself, sometimes.

Perhaps you can't really live for yourself unless you're living for someone. Perhaps you need both to truly live.