阿三的。。。

我的假期就要结束了。不记得做了什么。

（该做的总是没做）

小时候的假期只能呆在家里。偶尔出去玩耍。看书画画好像是做得最多的事情。

前几天和銮讲起我8岁时的画画老师。惊觉一个人的成长过程会大大地影响他。

而现在，画画已经变成我必须要做的功课。但，我现在不想画。或许说，，我已经忘了我曾经是多么的喜欢。

拿着铅笔，对着电脑，脑里出现的是一句句严厉的批评。有好的有坏的，但那些些给我的只有混乱。我喜欢色彩，但现在的我已经不能够把自己喜欢的颜色放在图画里。

我想念从前画画的快乐时光，是一种单纯的快乐。 不需要顾虑他或他们的眼光。一个线条，一种颜色都可能引起一堆言语。

但，画画对于我是无声的。

想念坐在窗前画画的时候。看着楼下的人群走过。偶尔会有我想念的人。但那些都已经远去。我懂。

Vicent starry starry night

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...