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It's ANOTHER weird universe!!!!
 

Candy--decadence and passion

Browsing in the library led me to a translated version of Mian Mian's candy. The book put me into a depressed state. Mian Mian's prose is the kind of prose that is wild, dark, and sexy--it stems from her wild experiences as a youth--it has a dark seductive quality to it that deeply attracts me but makes me feel like shit because I know I can never write that way. I am just not that kind of writer and I do not have such experiences. Nor do I have the wild passionate emotional center of the reckless who throws all caution to the wind. I can only write about the ordinary.

It made me realize I have grown old without the madness of reckless love, not that I would have chosen otherwise. I am who I am, and I will remain true to my past. But if a writer can only write the way he/she can, then perhaps I moan not being mad enough when I was younger. It is silly of me, I know. Both my sister and Lee says so.

Yes, the book is immature, the wild experiences thoughtless and stupid. The voice of the narrator is of one who understands nothing about love, but everything about obsession, manipulation and other intense emotions of being young and wild. But it is nonetheless beautiful--it is the bruised kind of beauty I will never know because that is not who I am. I cannot live without consequences. I do not believe in that kind of life. I do not believe in that kind of world.

But there are people who live dangerously and recklessly and love the same way. And I envy that.

Perhaps, my calling then, is to live the way I do, to love the way I do. Because after all, there is more to passion than bursts of madness, of intensity. Passion can also be gentle, it can also run deep, it can also be the quiet constant that powers the person I am and all that I believe in.

There