What the World Needs Changes

When I was young, 

I wanted to change the world. 

As I grew older, 

I realized I was not one of those 

chosen to change it—

though I have witnessed 

how those people do, 

sometimes for the better, 

sometimes for the worse. 

____

 

Ten Years After - I'd Love to Change the World 

Everywhere is freaks and hairies, 

dykes and fairies

Tell me where is sanity?
Tax the rich, feed the poor, 

'til there are no rich no more
I'd love to change the world - 

but I don't know what to do
So I'll leave it up to you

Population - keeps on breeding, 

nation bleeding,
Still more feeding economy
Life is funny, skies are sunny, 

bees make honey
Who needs money? 

Monopoly!
I'd love to change the world - 

but I don't know what to do
So I'll leave it up to you... 

Oh yeah

World pollution, there's no solution, 

institution, electrocution
Just black and white, 

rich or poor, 

them and us
We'll stop the war!
I'd love to change the world - 

but I don't know what to do
So I'll leave it up to you... 

It's called luck

Hardly Tell My Own Stories

I like telling stories when 

I have an audience, 

but I don't get much of one 

from my social connections.

Sometimes my family members 

become my audience, 

such as at family gatherings. 

I like to take these opportunities to 

tell them stories of all kinds, 

frequently inserting my own 

past life experiences.

However, my family members usually 

stop me from telling my old personal stories 

because they have already heard them 

a hundred times.

_____

The Bee Gees - Voices

Sweet voices calling wild, 

echoing around this child

Sweet Faith I'll be joining you, 

when my story's over

Dee doo doo doo dah 

dee doo doo

Doo doo doo 

dee doo doo doo 

dee doo dah day

Small secrets in the wind, 

blowing till the end begins

Oh my children stand by me till 

my story's over

Dee doo doo doo dah dee doo doo

Doo doo doo 

dee doo doo doo 

dee doo dah day

If I were you and you were me 

those voices they would cease to be

They won't be free to torment me again

But in my bed again last night,

those voices spoke of wrong and right

They spoke of darkness and of light

They spoke of weakness and of might

The spoke of people in the snow

And distant places long ago

The spoke of fire and falling rain

Of health and wealth and death and pain

Nah....

Sweet voices calling wild , 

echoing around this child

Sweet Faith I'll be joining you , 

when my story's over

If I were you and you were me 

those voices they would cease to be

They won't be free to torment me again

But in my bed again last night 

those voices spoke of wrong and right

They spoke of darkness and of light

They spoke of weakness and of might

They spoke of people in the snow

And distant places long ago

They spoke of fire and falling rain

Of health and wealth and death and pain

Original Intention

An art course instructor said to the students:

“You have paid a significant tuition fee 

to learn how to paint. 

You really ought to study hard 

to paint better and 

never forget your original intention.”

I’ve noticed that students enroll in these courses 

for very different original intentions. 

These purposes include:

Enhancing creative techniques

Expanding art knowledge

Learning from the instructor’s skills

Earning a diploma

Carrying on a painting lineage and style

Widening one's social circle

Seeking creative inspiration

Learning to be an art curator

Aiding a career in arts management

Becoming a creative artist

Becoming a professional painter

Becoming a freelance painter

Becoming an amateur painter

Learning to be an art teacher

Enriching one's life

Healing psychological emotions

Slowing down the pace of life

Leaving behind a footprint of life

Making good use of continuing education funds

Finding like-minded peers

Expanding creative horizons

Mastering a medium to express one's voice

Building a network of contacts

Reclaiming a childhood passion

Climbing the academic ladder

Improving personal image

Elevating one's taste in life

…

藝術課程的導師，

對學生說，

“你們交了很高昂的學費來學畫。

好應該努力學習畫好你們的畫，不要忘記初衷。

發覺同學修讀這些課程的初衷各不相同。

這些目的包括：

提高創作技巧

增進藝術知識

學習老師才藝

爭取一紙文憑

承傳畫藝門派

擴闊生活圈子

尋找創作靈感

學做藝策展人

助做文管工作

為做創藝術家

為做職業畫家

為做自由畫家

為做業餘畫家

學做美術老師

豐富生活內容

療愈心理情緒

拖慢生活步伐

留下生活印記

善用進修基金

尋找同行知己

擴闊創作領域

掌握媒介發言

建立人脈網絡

重拾童年興趣

攀登學術階梯

改善個人形象

提高生活品味

……

From the Beginning · Emerson, Lake & Palmer

There might have been things I missed

But don't be unkind

It don't mean I'm blind

Perhaps there's a thing or two

I think of, lying in bed

I shouldn't have said

But there it is

You see it's all clear

You were meant to be here

From the beginning

Maybe I might've changed

And not been so cruel

Not been such a fool

Whatever was done is done

I just can't recall

It doesn't matter at all

You see it's all clear

You were meant to be here

From the beginning

Rare Scent-related Memories

Some scents bring me 

vivid, sweet memories of the past. 

The time, the people, and the place 

related to those scents are very specific, 

and the memories appear clearly in my mind. 

The rarity of these scent-related memories 

may be the main reason.

ReoNa「ガジュマル ～Heaven in the Rain～」

If there’s any regret lingering in my heart,

Is it the "goodbye" I could never say?

If regret keeps falling on me 

like relentless rain,

Is it because I ran away from the end 

that was bound to come?

The grand banyan tree 

you planted in the garden

Is drooping its branches, weeping silently.

I loved you—if only I could have said

Those simple words, those few words.

Rain, please dissolve this eternal parting.

Sweetly scented rain tree,

Memories come overflowing.

I want to see you.

I just want to see you so badly.

This grief from losing you—

Will it heal as time goes by?

If my memories must fade away 

alongside the pain,

Then I’d rather my wounds never heal.

In the sound of the waves and the breeze,

Under the empty shade of the trees,

I look for you.

Blurring image of your face—

please don't fade away.

When times are painful,

When I lose my way,

When I want to disappear,

Even now, I still think of you.

The banyan tree is weeping.

I loved you—if only I could have said

Those simple words, those few words.

Rain, please dissolve this eternal parting.

Sweetly scented rain tree,

Memories come overflowing.

I want to see you, 

I really want to see you.

I want to reach you beyond the rain.

The love song I always wanted to 

share with you—

I will sing it now.

心残りが あるとしたなら

言えなかった 「さよなら」でしょうか

後悔ばかり 降り止まないのは

いつか来る終わりから 逃げたからでしょうか

あなたが庭に植えた

大きなガジュマルが 枝を垂らして 泣いているよ

愛していた ただそれだけのことが

たったそれだけの言葉が 言えたらよかったのに

永遠の別れを 雨よ 溶かして

甘く香る rain tree

思い出が溢れてゆく

会いたいよ

ただ 会いたいよ

あなたを失くした この悲しみも

時が過ぎれば 癒えるのでしょうか

痛みとともに 思い出さえも

忘れるぐらいなら 傷よ 癒えないで

潮騒と風の中

誰もいない木陰で

あなたを探してる

滲んでいく面影よ 消えないで

つらいときに

迷ったときに

消えたいときに

いまだにあなたを思い出すよ

ガジュマルが泣いている

愛していた ただそれだけのことが

たったそれだけの言葉が 言えたらよかったのに

永遠の別れを 雨よ 溶かして

甘く香る rain tree

思い出が溢れてゆく

会いたいよ 会いたいんだよ

雨の向こうの あなたに届けたいよ

伝えたかった 愛の歌を

僕は歌うよ

Fame is addictive

Fame is attractive and addictive. 

But it just doesn't mean anything in the end.

Still, fame can captivate everyone 

through its magic of 

making connections with others possible, 

and thus, fulfilling the psychological need 

of feeling successful.

Emerson, Lake & Palmer - Still...You Turn Me On

Do you wanna be an angel, 

do you wanna be a star?

Do you wanna play some magic on my guitar?

Do you wanna be a poet, 

do you wanna be my string?

You could be anything

Do you wanna be the lover of 

another undercover?

You could even be the man on the moon

Do you wanna be the player, 

do you wanna be the song?

Let me tell you something, 

it just don't mean a thing

You see, it really doesn't matter

When you're buried in disguise

By the dark glass on your eyes

And though your flesh is crystallized

Still, you turn me on

Oh, you turn me on

Do you wanna be the pillow 

where I lay my head?

Do you wanna be the feathers flying in my bed?

Do you wanna be the cover of a magazine?

Create a scene

Every day a little sadder, 

a little madder

Someone get me a ladder

Do you wanna be the singer, 

do you wanna be the song?

Let me tell you something, 

you just couldn't be more wrong

You see, I really have to tell you

That it all gets so intense

From my experience

It just doesn't seem to make sense

Still, you turn me on

Oh, you turn me on

You turn me on

Litter Ranked Differently

Looking down at the pavement while walking, 

you might notice litter on the ground,

such as a piece of chewing gum or 

a scatter of fallen cherry blossoms.

Both were good things before they became waste.

After they become litter, however, 

they can be ranked differently. 

Dropped gum is sticky, unsightly and 

difficult to remove, 

whereas fallen blossoms are loose and 

easily swept away. 

From a cleaner's perspective, 

fallen blossoms should be ranked 

higher than dropped gum 

for obvious reasons.

Yet, neither the gum nor the blossoms are 

likely aware that they are being judged 

long after their purpose has ended.

ReoNa - 生きてるだけでえらいよ

ReoNa - 活着就很了不起了

聽我說啊，

我前陣子差點被自行車撞到。 

那個大叔氣沖沖地吼我：

“太危險了吧！看著點前面走路啊！” 

可是啊，我不知怎的就是做不到，

根本沒有抬起頭的力氣。 

連走路的力氣都沒有，

可我又不得不回家。 

那時候我才意識到，

原來雙腳是不會自己往前挪的。 

人行橫道上的白線，

每跨過一條都要走上三步。

最近每天都是這樣。

滿腦子只看得到“啊，這裡掉了個口香糖”， 

連天空是晴是陰都不知道。 

不過，這麼說來，

我昨天倒是注意到了一件事呢—— 

原來井蓋上印著櫻花呀。

聽我說，有時候，

我也會有想要“再努力看看”的日子。 

但最後果然還是不行，

在電車上就忍不住哭了出來。 

哭得整張臉都皺在一起，

又覺得不能在那種地方哭出聲來， 

就只能拼命憋著，

結果連鼻涕都流出來了，

真的好難受，嗚嗚地抽嗒。 

雖然也是理所當然的，

但當時根本沒有人來幫我，

感覺全世界就只剩下我一個人。 

到站之後我硬撐著走下了車，

卻在原地一動不動站了好久。

我就坐在站台的椅子上。

這時候，

有幾個男高中生吵吵嚷嚷地走過來， 

在不遠處聊起了漫畫。

他們的聲音傳到了我耳朵里， 

那部漫畫我也很喜歡，

以前一直在看，

原來最近要改編成動畫了呀。

聽我說，

我其實沒對任何人提過這件事，

應該說根本說不出口。 

總覺得如果說出來了，

就會顯得這點事根本不值一提。 

大家明明都過得更不容易，

你看，放眼世界的話， 

不是還有很多人連飯都吃不上、

連睡覺的地方都沒有嗎？ 

和那些人比起來，

我明明已經超級幸福了。 

可是啊，根本不是那麼回事。

雖然我也不知道為什麼，但就是……

好痛苦，

每一天、

每一天都好痛苦。

連起床都覺得煎熬， 

可是到了晚上又失眠睡不著。

前陣子，

我實在不知道該怎麼辦了， 

心裡堵得難受，

這時候隔壁的隔壁座位的那個女孩子

突然走過來，問我：

“怎麼啦？我聽你說呀。”

平時我們其實沒怎麼說過話，

但不知道為什麼，

我當時一股腦地 

把所有事都倒了出來，哇哇大哭。

結果你猜怎麼著，那個女孩子 

對我說“這樣啊，這樣啊”，

一邊溫柔地摸著我的後背， 

一邊對我說：

“你很了不起哦，

光是活著就已經很了不起了。”

ReoNa - Being alive is already amazing

Listen, the other day,

I almost got hit by a bicycle. 

The older guy got so mad and 

yelled at me, 

"That's dangerous! 

Watch where you're walking!" 

But, you know, 

I just couldn't do it. 

I didn't have the energy to lift my head. 

I didn't even have the strength to walk, 

but I had to go home. 

It made me realize that 

feet don't just move forward on their own. 

Even crossing a single stripe on the crosswalk 

took me three steps.

Lately, every day has been like this. 

I only notice things like, 

"Oh, there's some gum dropped here," 

and I don't even know if the sky 

is sunny or cloudy. 

But come to think of it—

come to think of it, 

I noticed something yesterday. 

The manhole cover had cherry blossoms on it.

Listen, sometimes, 

there are days when I think, 

maybe I'll try to do my best today. 

But in the end, I still can't do it, 

and I ended up crying on the train. 

My face was a complete mess, 

and since I couldn't let myself 

make a sound in a place like that, 

I tried so hard to hold it in. 

But then my nose started running, 

and it was just so painful, sobbing quietly. 

It's only natural, but nobody helped me, 

and I felt like I was completely all alone. 

Once we reached my station, I forced myself off the train, but I couldn't move for a while.

I was sitting on a bench on the platform. 

Then, a group of high school boys 

came rushing over, 

and they were talking about 

a manga over there. 

I couldn't help but overhear them. 

I used to love that manga and read it too, 

and apparently, 

it's getting an anime adaptation now.

Listen, I didn't tell anyone about this. 

Actually, I couldn't. 

I felt like if I said it out loud, 

it would seem like it's no big deal. 

Everyone else has it worse, 

and you know, if you look at the world, 

there are people who struggle to 

find food or a place to sleep. 

Compared to those people, 

I'm incredibly fortunate. 

But, you know, 

it's not about that. 

I don't know why, but somehow...

It hurts so much. 

Every single day is painful. 

Just waking up is agonizing, 

but then I can't even sleep. 

The other day, 

I just didn't know what to do, 

and my heart felt so tight. 

That's when the girl 

sitting two seats away asked me, 

"What's wrong? I'm here to listen."

We don't usually talk that much, 

but for some reason, 

I just blurted everything out and

 balled my eyes out. 

And then, you know what she did? 

She said, "I see, I see,"

 and stroked my back. 

She told me, "You're doing great. 

Just being alive makes you amazing."

The Art of Rising and The Art of Falling

Many people know the art of rising.

They have the incentive to learn it,

as they can foresee that 

they will gain something more from it.

Few people know the art of falling.

They do not have the incentive to learn it,

as they cannot foresee that 

they will gain something more from it.

Worth to note that 

the application of both 

the art of rising and the art of falling

has a time limit in one’s life.

-------

The Dardust - The Art of Falling (2025)

Food Creates Art

Poets have to eat.

All other artists have to eat as well.

_____

Mark Knopfler - Basil 

(The track is a direct tribute to the prominent British modernist poet Basil Bunting, whom Knopfler personally encountered during the early 1960s while working as a teenage copyboy at the Newcastle Evening Chronicle, where Bunting was employed as a sub-editor.)

My Saturday job pays six and six down

A copy boy at the Chronicle

Five cigarettes and two silver half crowns

Meeting Vince at Mark Toney's in town

Boy, do we get around

Basil sits there on the table for subs

But not a part of the Bri-nylon club

Ancient blue sweater, too old for the job

Bored out of his mind

With the Colins and Bobs

I'm a jack and a lad

And I'm up for the world

And I've kissed a Gateshead girl

He calls for a copy boy, grumpy as hell

Poets have to eat as well

What he wouldn't give just to walk out today

To have time to think about time

And young love thrown away

I'm a jack and a lad

And I'm up for the world

And I've kissed a Gateshead girl

Starlings swarming

A cloud over Grainger Street

Over the black church

Over the Black Gate

And the shadowy Keep

He peers through his wire rims

At the fish and chip words

He's supposed to dish up and forget

His drudgery now has become slightly blurred

By one of his Players untipped cigarettes

Bury all joy

Put the poems in sacks

And bury me here with the hacks

In the summer the fair

Will stretch over the Moor

Lovers will lie and make out in the park

Basil puts on his old duffel and scarf

And goes out into the dark