20100417

Though. 了.


It's finished, though. The facial cream given by my ex-girlfriend was finished recent days, and thrown into the trash can though. Maybe the scent will stay in the room on my body for few more days, but it's going to become the part of memory, waiting for someone who has the same smell passing me by to recall the scent in my mind. Sometimes you can gradually forget the sentiments on someone, but about those flavors, which is just like the tasty Cantonese restaurant, where always attracts me to go there again. However, how about if the people never shared same commons with me in my life but only paased by on the streets? How can we retain the repetitive sensibility, or say, to forget?

Got flu though. I have to absorb plenty of water to overwhelm the virus, then take the numerous tissues to let the virus running out with my nose. I have no idea can we talk about relationships by this sort of procedure; or shall we yell with Lenny Kravitz to sing the 'Let love rule'? If we have to define those morals and manners by the National law, like some political talk show guests saying; how about love? Or like? And ambiguous emotions? With favorable impressions? If the sight can clarify something from our souls, then the smile should be able to categorize something else.


Going to work, though. There are always matches happening at the office. No matter you would like to participate or play within it. If you are not dating with A girl, either you are teasing with B lady; otherwise, you would have had the relationship with C man. This kind of food chains game makes me hate the species of human being. If animals could classify the nature, they probably would consider us as the harmful insect. The state of assigned construction is pretty much the same as the system of bureaucracy, sometimes, it excites me the desire back to the free lancer life.


It's typhoon though. Its name is as same as the hurtful one from the six years ago. At lease the weater report said so. Would the coincidental names occur in our relationships time by time? Does the way she/he walk, the tension she/he make, and the tears she/he drop that is same as the last time? Do the days she/he stay as same as the last one? Can we prepare this love/disaster prevention beforehand? How can we return the regular life after we finished this time? Nobody knows, like the weather report, it always has the great faults when we need the precise prediction. I brought the umbrella but sunny, I wanted to have a picnic but raining; I wore the wool coat then coming sunshine, I put on a vest then fucking windy.


I still miss somehow though. I'd had the missing feeling. But perhaps it's kind of usage of loneliness. While I miss something then the feeling transforms to loneness, when I feel lonely then I start to missing someone again. A transformation of the triangle quiz. Sometimes I just want to listen Thom Yorke singing the happy tone like Tahiti 80, if he can be able to sing the wonderful tone, then I can give up the blue sarrow.


---


用完了。前女友送的洗面乳前陣子擠出最後一滴汁液後,被
我 丟到回收筒了。也許味道還會殘留幾天;但我想之後也會像 回憶一樣,等待偶爾擦身而過的嗅覺重疊吧。有時候你可以 對某人的想法或記憶逐漸淡忘,但那種種滋味,就像我總會 再去的那間大排檔,始終會再來吃一次。可是未曾交集過的呢? 那些層層堆積的感觸該如何保留,或說怎麼遺忘?

感冒了。必須大量攝取水份以淹沒病毒,再抽無數衛生紙讓
其 隨水分流出。不知道感情可否像這樣擁抱程序;或說該跟Lenny Kravitz一起聲嘶力竭的唱出Let Love Rule。如果應該把某些道德規範如楊憲宏所講訂於法律之下的話。那愛呢?或者喜歡?還是曖昧?又如好感?要是眼神能夠說明什麼,那笑容也得歸類一下吧。

上班了。在公司總是會有種種配對流連發生。不管你要或不
要, 玩或不玩。如果你不跟A女在一起就得跟B女有牽連;不 然,你也跟C男發生關係。這種像似食物鏈的遊戲讓人討厭 人類這種禽獸。我想動物要是也在評比的話,會覺得我們才 是一群害蟲吧。這種組織分配的形態非常之權力意識;有時,讓 我忍不住想回歸無冕生活。

颱風了。與六年前讓人受傷的同名同性格。至少氣象局這樣
說 的。是否戀愛也會出現這樣相似的男男女女在你周遭來來去 去呢?她/他行走的姿態/路徑任性/風吹的級數淚滴/雨 下的程度是否相同呢?相處/停留的日子天數是否一樣呢? 我們可否提前作好戀愛/風暴的防戀/颱準備呢?結束之後 又該如何恢復往昔的規律呢?沒人知道,就像氣象預報;總 是偏差值居多。該打傘就放晴,要郊遊偏驟雨;穿外套豔陽天, 著背心刮冷風。

想念了。我對於想念的感覺很思念。但也只基於一種習慣的
寂 寞而已。想念習慣寂寞,寂寞習慣想念。一種三角習題的變形。 有時候也不過想要Thom Yorke唱的跟Tahiti 80一樣開心。如果他能夠如此開懷,那我會捨棄憂傷吧。



*translation from my previous prose, photo taken at the cinema museum, Berlin.

20100414

When it falls


"Do you know the slat blue velvet? It mixes with the jujube silk and golden lace."

"The blue velvet sounds so fragmental."

"Yeah, the fragmental blue..."

It's foggy, and raining shower frequently. So you couldn't see the mountains getting alone with each other when you look afar of the city. I'm not a superstitious guy, but sometimes I'll be directed by the indications. The sign is alway like a ghost, appears from the left eye then disappears from the right eye. The temperature here is not super low to my tolerant limit, but the cold winds always slips into my neckline, two sleeves and the seam of trousers; like the clouds naturally flow far away then melting with the sky. The traffic light red, yellow and green are dancing the Tango with the brakes of my bike, and sometimes I really don't want to care all the shits in my life, just let them get in the crash. Everybody is equal in the parallel timeline, walking step by step in our times, however, why do I still desire to fly as high as the sky? There is a pleasant sound, called "music". When you soak into the melody, it's similar you putting on the fuzzy hat, wearing the Gore-Tex snow jacket and wool socks, covering the goose feather blanket and lie down on my queen size bed. Or, it's also like you wearing nothing with you dark fingers and blank cheeks, and the black lips and shaking teeth, on the frozen ground, standing. These kind of scenes make me dizzy.



"Do you like to go to the heaven?"

" Perhaps. But I would like to see the hell as well."
 
"Mm. Hope the weather will be getting warm these couple days."

"Yeah, but I like the sweater with hat, like someone is saying sweets softly at your ears."
 
 "Sweets softly..."

After raining, there is a restart atmosphere on the streets. The tars on the roads are purified grey, the water is busy to find the seams to the underground; meanwhile, the liquid is not like the thing we used to know, it's coated black, like an opportunist follows the stream flowing away. I would believe there are another two egos same as me. They are also typing the alphabets, drawing the picture, listening songs and swallowing the spit. So don't talk to me about "unique", the uniqueness is Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and so on. Nowadays everything is synthesized and imitated by the future of former days. I trust the sadness, and I hate the truth. Perhaps everything will be forgotten when I restart it again, just like Leslie Chang saying in the movie: "let's restart once again, how about that?" Otherwise, it's just the "death" like people say.



"You tell me; without the memory, can we say that the mankind is still alive?"

" I don't know, perhaps I should give it a try."

"Try about what?"

"Try to delete the past."

" Don't always be concerning all the things in your mind."

"There are too many details, I have to be an information addict to pick it up."

"The music is playing the sounds."

"Yeah I've heard everything when it falls."



---



“你知道藍色呢絨嗎?再混著棗色絲綢與金紅色鑲邊。“

“好撕裂的憂傷呀。“

“是呀。““好撕裂的憂傷…“


濛濛的,有時飄雨,所以往遠方望去就看不到包圍這城市高低相與的山。我不是很迷信的人,不過有時卻會被暗示一直引導著。徵兆總是鬼魅,左眼閃過,右眼消 去。這樣的天氣並沒冷到什麼極限,但那絲絲冷風總會從袖口領間褲縫等等地方灌入;好像雲飄到遠方就跟天融為一體了。紅燈黃燈綠燈綠燈黃燈紅燈與煞車間跳著 探戈,有時真不想插手管它們的閒事,就讓他去。在時間軸上來說每個人都是平行的,走著一個接一個的刻度;所以,為何我想飛呢?有種好聽的聲音,叫做音樂。 究極的講,戴著毛帽穿著羽狨衣裹著鵝毛被套著羊毛襪軟塌著有點類似。可一絲不掛讓你指甲發黑嘴唇發紫兩頰發白牙齒打顫也是。那讓我暈眩。




“你想去天堂嗎?“

“應該吧。不過我也想去地獄看看。“

“嗯。““希望天氣好轉些。“

“嗯,不過我喜歡套頭帽T;好像有人在你耳邊呢喃的溫軟。“

“呢喃…“


下雨過後,有種重新開始的氣息在街道游走,路面上的柏油被洗刷過似的泛灰,水漬找著細縫鑽入;這時它不像我們所認識的液體,黑漆漆的,像個投機份子竄動。 我願意相信這世上有另兩個與我相同的人,也打著字,畫著圖,聽著歌,吞著口水,所以別再說著獨特;所謂的與眾不同是叫做有巢氏燧人氏神農氏等等之流,一切 的現在都是“之前“以後的合成複製。我相信了悲傷,我恨了真實。也許這一切都會在我忘了後重新開始;就像何寶榮說得一樣,又或是人們說的“死亡“。


“你說,沒了回憶還算活著嗎?“

“我也不知道;也許我該試試。“


“試什麼?“


“試著試試。“


“你別總是耿耿於懷。“


“細節太多,我得像資訊狂一樣挑著。“


“音樂出來了。“


“嗯,我聽到每個事物的滑落了。“



*Translation from my previous prose, inspired by Zero 7.