"Why don't you say something?" You said.
When we get through to this present, the meaning in our lives can only be salvaged by listening music. To standing at the middle of the studio and look around the room, I realized that the scene was like the movies playing fast forward, but people's thoughts instead of playing backward; and this sort of weird things repeated again, again and again.
I'm staring the emptiness front of my sight, seeing everything but look through nothing. My eyes is continuously moving. Some people say if there is no barrier in front of our sights, the vision is infinity. Infinity, what a seductive words, how a captivating distance. But how about the "black hole"? Can our souls be able to get through the black hole to transform into its own universe? Or the function of our bodies can only be able to complete our desire?
"I think I never slept enough." I said.
Sleeping. Sleep is the time when subconsciousness playing around, and the dream is the playground. Dream is everything in the opposite of this reality. Dream is the child of the practical thought and illusional body. Dream is Sigismund Freud in repose. Dream is the highest and lowest auras. Dream is the achievement of the wish, or say, the beginning of disillusionment. The dream is you, as well as me.
Perhaps the death is the real dream.
"I have no idea what are you thinking of." You said.
I'm thinking of the noon in that Sunday, the gentle breezes in the air. It blew your hair and your eyebrows, then it blew your eyelashes again your hair. I'm thinking of your breath in that night, it's the minimal tone of whispering. I'm thinking on the platform of the station, while the train lighting on me, I just needed one step forward, then I could cross the boundary between "the dream" and "this reality". I'm thinking why I manipulated his body, when I was dizzy. I'm thinking.
"What happened?" I said.
I may never be able to understand, but I will keep asking. Because searching is the pageboy of eternity, it is the blind behavior to achieve the intention of loyalty. And the eternity is the tears of Juliet, the shoe of Cinderella; it's the mirror in Princess of Snow White, the mask in the Phantom of the Opera. When everything is completed, even afterwards, then we know -- you are not belonged to you, and I'm not belonged to me.
Thus there is nothing to be chased, because we've got everything. and the so called "sea change", that's all about it.
---
“你為何都不說話？”你說。
到了這種時代，這個時刻，人生很多的意義只能在聽歌時得
到 救贖。站在辦公室中央環顧四周，可以感覺到景象如電影快 轉播放的速率，但人的思想卻是慢轉，這樣弔詭的事一直，一直 和一直重複著。
我看著前方瞪視著。看穿一切卻又看不透世事。眼神飄移但 持 續。人說人的眼光如果沒有屏障遮擋的話，它的極限是無盡 遠。多麼誘人的說辭，多麼魅惑的距離。但黑洞呢？是否靈 魂能夠穿破它自成一個宇宙呢？而肉體只剩完成慾望的功用嗎？
“我想我永遠都睡不夠。”我說。
沈睡。睡眠是潛意識嬉戲幽遊的時辰；而夢是場所。夢是一 切 的反向，在身體力行的白天過後。夢是實際的思想與虛幻的 肉體相交配的子嗣。夢是佛洛伊德的寄託。夢是極high 跟極down的氛圍。夢是願望之實現，更是幻滅的開端。夢是 你，夢是我。
也許死亡才是夢。
“我不知道你在想什麼。”你說。
我想周日的午後，涼涼微風輕輕吹動。吹拂著你的秀髮你的 眉 際，吹動了你的睫毛，你的髮梢。我想那天夜裡你的喘息， 嚶嚶耳語低迷不停。我想在捷運的站台邊上，我只要再跨出 一步等候光亮乍臨就能越過夢的分野。我想當恍神迴盪時，我的 靈魂為何操縱他的身體。我想。
“你怎麼了？”我說。
我應該永遠都不懂。但我還是永遠會問。因為追尋是永恆的 書 僮，它亦步亦趨的是為了成就忠誠的初衷。而永恆是孟姜女 的眼淚，是梁祝的蝴蝶，是白雪公主的鏡子，是歌劇魅影的 面具。當這所有的一切都被實現以後，我們會知道；我就不再是 我，你也不會是你。
沒有了一切都沒有了，因為全部都已擁有。這些所謂海枯石 爛， 不過如此而已。
*the translation of my previous article; inspired by Beck's album "Sea Change".
