I Want To Run
I want to run
On the island where the dark clouds conceal the sky
Till the end
I see across the water
The mountain fog arises like a write dragon
I want to run
On the crocodile’s bare back above the water
Till her lips
I hear the piercing laugh of the waking bat
Flit over water
I still want to run
Even at the end of the end
Use my fingertips Run
On a dancing piano on the buoy
On the white and black islands of perpetuum mobile
2009-1-22
No matter how much I didn’t want it,
my birthday still came. And I cannot evade getting one year older.
It was late afternoon. I decided to do something for my birthday. I went to the canopy tower.
The tower locates in a shady ravine. A little frog was making a love song nearby. Greenish yellow algae grew on the poles and steps of the tower, making it looks really age. I carefully went on the steps, slowly, one by one. My hand grabbed the rope that goes through the center of the tower. When one has a climbing kook he can secure himself on the rope. But I don’t. So I have to trust my hand. In the beginning I was a little cautious. I was always imaging I would fall in between the two steps and break something on me. But after ten levels I stopped thinking of anything.
Gradually there was more light. The big dark-green leaves of epiphytes on the trunks were seemingly in the reach of my hands. Gradually there was more wind. My sweat soaked T-shirt start to breath the forest air, so was my hair. Gradually I heard sounds that I never heard before-the harmonics of wind going through all shapes of gaps between the trees, the sudden tighten of the cables and the “zhi—ya--”of the swinging tower. Though at such a height that a misstep can be fetal, everything around appeared cozily free. And I felt I want to stretch my arms and legs. The shrunk mind was like an expanding balloon that was about to take off.
All of a sudden all the treetops are below me. The canal appeared. The eagles soared around. Clouds naughtily dodged wind’s chase. The supreme brightness.
I reached out to embrace the sky. I cried. I waved. I laughed. I proudly declared that I am twenty-five. I am going to have MY life, all the way through the shady bottom, until the paramount top.
Being twenty-five now, I’ve been to the tower.
明天我就二十五岁了. 依照四舍五入, 已经是正式奔三十了.
昨天收到导师的邮件. 上面写着: 我完全不能理解你的逻辑. 想想你要问得问题, 这样测时间什么也不能告诉你…… 所有否定词都用大写黑体标出.
这是我所知道的. 一个人不需要学任何科学只要用鼻子想一想也会知道, 这样测时间完全没有意义. 我所不知道的, 是我究竟哪里出了问题, 怎么会频频犯这样的错误.
二十四岁这年, 丢失了笑, 丢失了激情, 丢失了自己.
二十四岁这年, 数不清个黑夜, 坚强的床架, 拖着无眠.
二十四岁这年, 迷失在这座失乐园.
二十四岁这年没有冬天, 我却希望来一场暴风雪, 在这座热带岛屿, 冰封世间一切记忆, 唯有忍耐与希冀留存.
二十四是一只贪婪的黑洞, 吞噬了从前. 我重生在这座失乐园, 像个婴孩, 弱不禁风, 一无所有.
二十四是一场伯拉图式的恋爱, 在我与科学之间, 直到我们失恋.
明天就二十五了, 可是我却不敢踏进这一天. 如果这世间有回转一切的药, 我愿吞下它重新我们的恋爱, 依然伯拉图式, 在这座失乐园. 我要我们的恋爱轰轰烈烈. 可是时间的玫瑰一旦开过, 就只有凋零.
我曾对导师说, 我的一生都在奔跑, 我跑过了大半个青春, 却发现我越跑, 目的地离我越遥远. 我终于累了, 终于陷在这样的绝望中. 于是我决定人的一生很长, 我无需再匆忙.
导师却对我说, 人的一生通常比大多数年轻人想得要短. 所以要把每一天当作生命中的最后一天, 也要腾出时间去嗅一朵玫瑰.
昨夜我在黑暗中哭泣, 我发誓, 这是最后一次了. 为丢失的二十四, 为即将到来的二十五. 却忽然有一道绿光出现在空中, 一闪一灭, 从房间这头飞到那头----是一只萤火虫, 我的房间里居然关了一只萤火虫! 我张开双臂, 它来到我的怀抱.
上帝在我黑暗的时候给我派来了光!
二十五岁的婴孩, 唯有忍耐与希冀. 光, 请引领我向复乐园!
元旦已过约摸五日, 春节还在廿日开外.本不是记念甚么的时日. 然连日的阴雨让一切生出霉味来, 我于是怕那些积存已久的么什在肚里也生出霉来, 便正有写一点东西的必要了.
戊子之末,需是送旧的时候了. 细细盘点, 发觉自己竟也柔石一般前额亮晶晶的, 圆睁了近视的眼睛, 心里盘道着 “会这样的么？――不至于此罢？……”. 不至于甚呢?
其一便是所谓格物致理, 完全不是什么罗曼蒂克的东西. 此前便被先前的先生教育要坚决抛弃罗曼蒂克, 然而我未曾听从. 又加之现在的先生一味纵容, 便决定将罗曼蒂克进行到底. 却未料当这个青衫的柔石被投之孤岛, 每日恶斗飞蚊披星戴月苦心孤胆, 归来腹中空空也无气力烧煮洗刷, 终日汤面果腹, 试验依旧未果, 便以为自己是开了学生之厄运的先河. 至于旁人有恶意无恶意的言论,又无非是大喊痛打落水狗. 翻开来批文便每页都写着神话泯灭. 我只觉得艰于呼吸视听, 还能有甚么罗曼蒂克, 每日苟延残喘罢了.
有旧友人问及理想是否依旧放光, 我便道“不了”. 长歌当哭,已然在痛定之后. 擦了前额亮晶晶的汗, 真的猛士, 将毅然前行. 这为了忘却的记念, 第一便为那刀光血影之后, 旧的神话之泯灭. 新的神话,将在废墟上诞生.
于是, 落水狗要不要罗曼蒂克? 当然是—
要!
c c Finale d d
There used to be an ending part titled “beyond”. It was my last day on the island. I took an hour off from observation to go around and say goodbye to everything. I went to the river, which I had been there twice. Once was with my assistants. Once was with Meg. Both times it was rainy or foggy. This time when I passed the tree fence, I found the river was so broad, much broader than I thought. The wind sent the waves to me. I thought I felt something. I called that beyond. I didn’t know for the whole summer, that across the little pond, beyond the tall trees there was a piece of blue vast water. The same wind blew on my face but I didn’t know where it comes from. On my way back I picked a little daisy and put it beside Mr. Osborn’s grave.
Yes, I do need to go beyond. But I know I haven’t. Back to Norman there was a time I hated night. I felt hollowness in my chest once it was dark. I cried silently every night. Words and scenes flew in my head like a haunting ghost.
Someone said human is only a Jack of straw with a golden halo. But the real water has no scent. The real man has no halo. If I cannot cast off the load, I wouldn’t be able to go far.
Someone said that each heart is a pilgrim.
So pilgrim how you journey
On the road you chose,
To find out why the winds die
And where the stories go.
Pilgrim in your journey,
You may travel far,
For pilgrim
The road leads to nowhere,
The road leads to you.
