country songs about brothers的八卦，YOUTUBE、PINTEREST和Yahoo名人娛樂都在討論

ประภาส ชลศรานนท์ ที่ผมแอบมอง
---
1
จำไม่ได้ว่าผมหยิบหนังสือ "เพลงเขียนคน ดนตรีเขียนโลก" มาจากหิ้งหนังสือของห้องสมุดแห่งไหนในจุฬาฯ แต่จำได้แม่นว่า นี่คือหนังสือเล่มหนึ่งที่เติมสารประกอบสำคัญเข้ามาในสมอง และหล่อหลอมให้เกิดความคิดแบบหนึ่งขึ้นในหัว กระทั่งวันนี้ความคิดนั้นยังคงอวลอยู่ไม่ไปไหน
...Continue ReadingPrapha sachon saranon that I sneak peek at
---
1
I don't remember which library I picked up "music writing" from which library in chula, but I remember this is a book that added an important compound into my brain and forged. One thought in my head until today, that thought is still going anywhere.

The idea that is " many more

Along with the feeling that our little hands can write the world.

I have been listening to "Chaliang" since elementary school. Milk hasn't set (now). I still). I understand. When I was in University, the band disband disband has left just a story on the wood sheet for me. A lot of music never old. Those are written from the end of brother chik's pen - prapha chon Sara non

Reading this book makes you see the idea behind each song, and even more you see the author.

For me, whether brother chik wrote a song, wrote a book or made a movie, all he tried to do is ask people to try to look at the corner with more than just the corner.

See the world and your heart will be expansive.

Many more (many more that we don't know. We see it. Just in case we haven't seen it yet), Hibiscus Tree and blind (blind, but the mind is still bonded beauty), if there are only two of us in this world (time I'm hungry. Two of us will eat sticky rice with chicken noodles. Who to buy), it's up to who (it's up to who sees it, who can hear it, who decides), calm down bro (where are you going to fight with? I don't have time. Search for mind) etc.

Many songs of the lyrics are annoying. Such as when a lot of love songs say, " there are only us in this world brother chik asked me. Who will you want to eat noodles, who do you buy from? During a loud song If you don't love me, tell me. Tell me a word. " brother chik also wrote a song. Calm down. Where are you going? Let's see.

Khun Prapha Somchai cuddle will see the world in the drone corner. It's flying up to see the wide picture and spread out that there may be a corner that we forget to look at. The world could be something else.

...

2
"many more" in the meaning of brother chik doesn't eat just one thing. There are hundreds of thousands of possible sources, but it also means looking at everyone. Everything is equally important. Equally beautiful. Not comparing to take it to take the beams, but look beautiful. Of that person then pull out that potential to create value

" Classic, don't insult jazz
Jazz don't watch clan pop
Pop, don't mind the country.
Don't be sulking with doctor lam.
Doctor Lam, don't think more than classic. It's high "

This is a message on the screen in the concert. The song makes me think of what brother chik told me in this book. "people are like fingers. It's not equal but fingers too and have different duties" is a teacher's speech. Teaching kids in the young movie of piak posters.

To this day, the " finger is not equal " has been interpreted and wittalion. But in the meaning that I understand that brother chik wants to press, the " difference " rather than " inequality " is thumb is different from Index Finger and pinky and brother chik says " you could be a pinky finger which is more important than the index finger in some things read and think that our round fingers are valuable in our way.

"Tao" which sees the value of the nature of things like this. Often seen in the work of brother chik.

...

3
Mr. Prapha is not a big person. If there are two sides, brother chik will not stand on one side. Maybe because of the eyes that sees the beauty of each thing, each mind and an open view. I don't believe that anyone is all right. Or all wrong. Everything is good or bad.

Most importantly, this kind of thought resilience is believed that the people or the extreme thoughts we see are not eternal, but it can always change. The Extreme can also be adjusted, divided, exchange. New ingredients in themselves.

Once I had an opportunity to sit and talk with brother chik. Then we went to consult about making tv show. Our team is interested in a program that focuses on content. Easy, I want to pass knowledge to the audience. When I tell you the pattern and content to you. Listen to the brother ask, " is knowledge necessary that it must not be fun stop thinking and continue asking " is entertainment necessary to be ridiculous "

Just these two questions expand our view. We can see a new area that there is still space in the middle that combines what we thought were irrelevant. Different Worlds. and if we could, we could, we wouldn't cut off any kind of value.

...

4
That's another feature of brother chik that I secretly look at. This guy doesn't teach straight away, doesn't comment, but he likes to ask questions. Let the partner to consider it himself. This technique is used in writing as well.

The question that brother chik throws at can make us think " can it be something else " or " can it really see one way

This kind of conversation is like a kind adult who doesn't block. It doesn't draw the line what it should be. But let us choose by ourselves. This is how to tease you think with the question that khun prapha can use this kind of weapon. Praew praew praw praw praw praw The more and more.

If anyone has worked with brother chik, maybe it feels why I came up with this idea! I'm really good! But in fact, we can think because we are triggered by his brother's questions, but we will feel good because no one has ordered us to do that. We make our own decisions.

So it's not just creative work, but the way of working is also creative.

...

5
The Picture of brother chik that I remember when I was looking at the idol in the conference room is a picture of a playful executive like a little boy who had the big one who had the power to make any decision.

I saw his brother spinning pen, drawing a picture, and poke him out while everyone was meeting seriously thinking about it.

Good ideas often come up during our relaxing time -- I've heard many good thinking people say that. Many people say that if we don't lose our children, we will always keep the potential to imagine and creative.

Photo of Mr. Prapha in the conference room for me like a playful kid.

Another picture that I remember is in the conference room and dining table of the group who often meet each other. Brother Chik will tease the scared by putting a glass of water. The Edge of the table. It seems to fall to test if that person can endure enough. That person keeps moving deep. Mr. Prapha will laugh and says, " can't you stand it? Can't you stand this kind of thing

A Writer, a creative thinker that we have been following for a long time. Admired and thought that he would be quiet. But when he met the real one, he became a playful little boy, fast talking, Pear, praw and questioning. A very fun conversation.

...

6
If I would write about "the" from the eyes that I would have written many pages of paper because I have been looking at brother chik since the work behind my thoughts to read every interview that I saw until I had a chance to meet on the occasion. I'm always looking at verbs, symptoms and thoughts of brother chik. Teacher's Melody.

Finally, brother chik is not crazy. People may see the work, but they don't have to see his own. We know the song. Scream and laugh with brothers and musicians. We love the program of work. Point or many other creative works caused by this brother's mind, but often we don't even know or don't even think there is him behind it.

This is another thing that brother chik taught me. We can make a change or create something without letting people see us. in some cases, it's more powerful than having better cuddle results.

We have seen Mr. Prapha through some work, but I believe there are many pieces of this sharp and round anchor that we didn't know was his work.

The fit of being seen is something that brother chik manages to learn and nan cuddle baht.

Prapha Chon Saranon is a teacher with many lessons to sneak peek and learn.

Thank you brother chik for being an inspiration, an open thought perspective. He ignites the dream of writing books and giving "many more" tips in my heart since I was in teenagers through your work.

Congratulations to brother chik for the National Artist Award in performing arts as the creator of International Thai entertainment and music event this year.

I really want to tell brother chik that "music writing music"

At least one of me is the productivity from your song.

With love and thanks

Ehhh (round finger)Translated

Nobody’s Fool　　( January 2011 )

Yoshitomo Nara

Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.

It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.

But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.

While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.

As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.

In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.

Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.

Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!

I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.

Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.

By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.

After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.

And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.

Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.

But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.

The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.

Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.

After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.

Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.

After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.

I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….

【桃花開在周杰倫】The Peach Blossom named Jay Chou（English writing below)

上星期的Youtube影片中，我談到周杰倫前世如何修到大桃花，以及桃花和個人財富的關係。

2019年9月11日2300H，久未發新歌的周杰倫推出新歌單曲《說好不哭》，兩天內就破一千萬的流量，刷下華語樂壇的新紀錄，而且在超過十個國家，包括美國、澳洲、韓國、德國、新馬港台等，都衝上了Youtube發燒影片第一名。

相比之下，蔡依林去年年尾推出睽違四年的新專輯，打破了傳統歌手唱情歌的套路，其中七首歌都有概念新穎、議論性極高的MV，但影片流量卻不敵這次「周五」的合作。

我不是蔡依林的歌迷，但她這次為專輯的付出真的讓我刮目相看 - 回顧蔡依林出道至今的「黑歷史」MV《怪美》，邀請吳君如一起拍向80、90年代香港電影致敬的MV《腦公》，邀小S拍的MV《紅衣女孩》，以及今年榮獲台灣金曲獎年度歌曲獎的《玫瑰少年》等等。

我個人很喜歡這首《玫瑰少年》。此歌以轟動一時的「葉永鋕事件」為背後故事：葉永鋕，台灣人，國中生，因不同的性別氣質而遭到同學霸凌，不敢在下課時間去上廁所。十五歲那年，葉永鋕在上課時，提前離開教室去上廁所，後來被發現傷重倒臥血泊中，送醫後不治死亡。（取之：维基百科）

而在今年五月，台灣成為第一個將同性婚姻合法化的亞洲國家，讓《玫瑰少年》更具有代表性。

再看看周杰倫這次的新歌《說好不哭》，如果你也覺得「周杰倫是我的青春」，這MV用的許多「情懷梗」，作詞人方文山，神秘來賓五月天阿信，必會讓你驚喜連連。

對我而言，這首歌延續著周氏情歌的曲風，MV拍法沒有突破，並沒有像蔡依林的專輯有那麽強大的創意和正面能量。

可是蔡依林這次別出心裁，影片流量和賺到的錢也不少，卻依然亞於周杰倫。

這一切的現象隱藏著過去世的因果。

據我根本上師聖尊蓮生活佛開示，周杰倫前世修密教的敬愛法，想必他持了天文數字的敬愛咒。他八字寫著，這一世的寫歌本領就是他修來的眾桃花投影。

這桃花非同凡響，改變了華語樂壇對流行歌的審美觀。這次《說好不哭》的MV流量、新歌銷量等，都名列前茅，新歌上線的24小時內，總銷量548.5萬張，售額1645.6萬元人民幣（S$3.2m)。

蔡依林全身都是重桃花相，但就算如此，她和幾個星期前出新歌《對的時間點》的林俊傑，也完全被周杰倫比下去。

一些聰明的Youtuber在《說好不哭》上線24小時內火速推出了自己的翻唱影片，鋼琴彈奏版，歌詞版等。這是很明智的作法，因為不用花錢就能夠沾個邊，借一借周杰倫的桃花來旺自己。如果周杰倫的八字及歌曲旺他們的八字，就會更有效。

網路搜索，加上娛樂新聞頻道的新聞報導，他們的頻道便會迅速增加訂閱和流量。

寫了這麼多，有三點要提醒大家：

1）有幸得到師尊灌頂的敬愛尊咕嚕咕咧佛母和愛染明王法的同門，請勤修此法。

有眾桃花，貴人顯著，做什麼事情真的會比較容易，賺錢也可以比別人快。我個人的修法領悟，如果抱著利益眾生的菩提心來修，效果會更不可思議。

2） 要賺錢，你速度要快。

錢如流水走很快不等人，你要懂得觀察局勢，學學那些Youtubers的掙錢速度及魄力。如果還是不會， 批八字看風水時，可請教你的師父如何迅速為自己增強桃花。

3）往對的方向，用對的方法努力，能改自己和別人的命

無論你八字中有沒有眾生緣，你要有錢，有敬愛的魅力，你都得努力地去結眾生緣，持續地去佈施，慢慢地去積累。因為再多的眾生緣，也會有用完的一天。

以上的歌手都是努力的典範，包括那些Youtubers。因為努力而產生的影響力，能引導他人改自己的運勢，你的功德可加倍。

不要一日一日地這樣荒廢青春，別把時間都給了家人，而吝於給他人。佈施要用心思，要不然，有一天福報見底時，你和你的家人就會出現資糧荒的現況了。

「聰明人將精力用於預防和積累，而蠢蛋則寄望於補救。」

..........................

In my Youtube video last week, I talked about how Jay Chou cultivated his great Peach Blossoms in his past life and the correlation between your personal wealth and your Peach Blossoms.

On 11 September 2019 2300H, Jay Chou released his much-awaited new song "Won't Cry". His MV crossed 10 millions views within 48 hours on Youtube, setting a new record for Chinese music entertainment scene, and was the #1 trending MV in over 10 countries, including USA, Australia, Korea, Germany, Singapore, Malaysia, Hong Kong and Taiwan. His latest single also crashed Chinese music streaming site QQ music in less than a hour after its release.

In comparison, Jolin Tsai launched her new concept album end of last year, after a hiatus of 4 years. The album broke out of the conventional love ballads typical of Mandopop. 7 songs in this album were launched on Youtube with very creative and artsy music videos, which attracted much online discussion.

Yet the views on her MV cannot be compared with Jay Chou's latest MV.

While I am not a fan of Jolin Tsai, I applaud her effort for this album. The Ugly Beauty MV talks about the criticisms that Jolin Tsai had received since her debut. The Hubby MV was a salute to Hong Kong movies in the 80s & 90s, with Sandra Wu guest starring. Xiao S was also invited for her Lady in Red MV. The song Womxnly won the Song of the Year in this year's Golden Melody Awards, while this album won Album of the Year.

My personal favourite is the song Womxnly, which was inspired by the sensational story of Yeh Yung-chih, a secondary school Taiwanese student who had been long bullied for his perceived effeminate behaviour and thus, never dared to go to the school toilet at break times. One day, just five minutes before school ended, he was found dead in the school’s restroom in a pool of blood at the age of 15.

In May this year, Taiwan became the first Asian country to legalise same-sex marriage and Womxnly became even more symbolic.

Let's now take a look at Jay Chou's new single Won't Cry. If you also think that "Jay Chou is my youth", the many punchlines in this MV, the lyricist Vincent Fang and the mystery guest Ashin of Mayday will have you grinning in surprise.

To me, while this song is not bad and a continuation of Jay Chou's love ballad style, it does not carry as much creativity and positive energy as Jolin Tsai's Ugly Beauty album. Jay Chou's MV was also pretty similar to many of his past MVs. There was no breakthrough.

Yet, beneath all that we have seen till now, is the karma from many past lives.

My Root Guru, His Holiness Living Buddha expounded that in Jay Chou's past life, he practiced the Magnetization Sadhana of Varjayana, and had recited an astronomical number of the mantra of Love and Respect. As stated in his Bazi, his songwriting talent this lifetime is a reflection of his cultivated Peach Blossoms of Mass Appeal.

This is an extraordinary Peach Blossom, as it rewrote the judgment standard of Mandopop. The viewership of Jay Chou's Won't Cry MV and sales volume of the single are just as astounding. Within 24 hours of release, his new song sold 5.485 million copies online and raked in S$3.2million.

The entire physical appearance of Jolin Tsai spells of heavy Peach Blossom of mass appeal. However, with Jay Chou in the picture, both she and JJ Lin Junjie who released a new single The Right Time 3 weeks ago paled in comparison.

Some clever Youtubers quickly uploaded their own covers, in less than 24 hours of Jay Chou's new song release. There were cover songs, piano versions, and lyric version. This is a very smart way of leveraging on Jay Chou's Peach Blossom luck for FREE. Works best if the song and Jay Chou’s Bazi are compatible with their Bazi.

Through online searches and online entertainment channels who report about the covers, the Youtubers get to boost their subscriber volumes and viewership at a much faster rate.

These are the 3 points I wish to highlight to everyone after writing so much:

1) To my fellow Dharma brothers and sisters who are fortunate enough to receive our Root Guru's Dharma empowerment of Kurukullā and Rāgarāja, please cultivate this Sadhana diligently.

When you have Peach Blossom of Mass Appeal, your benefactors are prominent and everything that you do in life gets easily done, even earning money is faster for you. My personal experience is that if you practice this Sadhana with the Bodhicitta heart to benefit sentient beings, the effects will be incredible.

2) If you make money, you must be speedy.

Money waits for no man. You have to know how to observe the situations and learn the money-making speed and drive of those Youtubers. If you do not know how, seek the advise of your Chinese Metaphysics practitioner, when getting your Bazi analysed or Feng Shui audit done.

3）Move in the right direction with the right method, and you can change your life and others' too.

Regardless your Bazi has mass appeal affinity or not, to have money, to have charisma of Love and Respect, you must be diligent in forming mass positive affinities. Learn to give and accumulate your way through. For no matter how many mass affinities you have, they get expedited over time.

The celebrities and Youtubers I mentioned above are examples of diligence.

When your hard work brings you the ability to influence, you will be able to guide others to improve their luck, be it you are conscious of it or not. And that doubles up your merits.

Don't squander your youth by living aimlessly. Don't blindly give all your time to your family and be miserly in giving your time to others.

Constant giving requires thought, otherwise when your good fortune hits rock bottom, you and your family will face a dire drought of life resources.

"The smart one spends his effort in prevention and accumulation, while the fool puts his hope in salvaging. "