我在巴黎的火车站，遇见一个拉风琴的少年。 他懒散的神情和随意的打扮吸引了我的目光。我好奇地走上前和他聊天。他说他多年来就是这么拉着风琴过生活。我问这样一无所有的生活会不会太没有意义和空虚。他没有回答，开始继续刚才被我打断的曲子。

“为什么不回答？”我问。
他笑了笑。“因为，你并不是在问我啊。”然后被起了背包，消失在人群中。

于是，某种东西，开始深深地印在我的脑海里。
我也笑了。因为，我也找到了我的答案。

巴黎的夜晚，还真的有点冷。我把双手藏进黑色的大衣里，在越夜越美丽的浪漫之都，独自漫步着。

--期待着巴黎的明信片。

身边的人用无法挽留的速度经过。

我以为在人这么多的地方更容易找到交谈的对象，才发现不是这么一回事。或许是相遇随手可得，所以不再珍惜。或许是可以接触的人多所以分散了关心。

然后，我渐渐发现我正在被人群那种庞大的漠不关心和迅速的来来去去给淹没。开始，我慌张了起来，想歇斯底里地大叫，而我的话语却被人群用不留痕迹的匆忙掩盖住。夜晚，我终于习惯、终于不再慌张。我开始变成人群里的一份子、我终于和大家一样了。不再突兀，也分不出哪个是自己，只是一片模糊。我不知道这是悲哀还是幸福，只是感到茫然、麻木。

在一片深不可测的黑暗里，我终于流下第一滴眼泪。在失去自己而得到別人认同之后，窗外灯火通明地那么热闹着。

而寂寞却更加鲜明。

--黄俊郎

所以，我们都去看了黄城。
是去看戏，也是看人。

或许真的老了，有些让大家哄堂大笑的笑话，怎么好象觉得已经并不是很好笑了。原来我们大家真的在改变。。当然黄城是不会变的，不管戏好不好看，对黄城人来说，上演了就是精彩的。因为我们对黄城有太多的包容和怜爱，因为黄城对过来人的意义在于谢幕和那首一辈子也忘不了的歌曲。纵然有再多的批评，在歌声响起的瞬间，都变成了温柔的回忆。毕竟，我总觉得这么多年来，只有黄城的那两年才是真正地为自己而活。怎么不知不觉三年就这么过去了，怎么觉得离开黄城的这段日子几乎是一片空白。

突然意识到为什么大学显得那么寂寞，那么难熬。雅，那种没人能了解的感觉，我想我是知道的。所以，对于城外的人，总会带点不言而喻的距离，无论他们有多好。

---记黄城夜韵07

The suffocation is killing me brutally. Slicing me into pieces, draining my blood dry. I stare into the broken mirror, the red is invading all dimensions. My flesh is falling apart. I want to moan, but my lips are torn. My ears are pierced before the loved words. I cant smell the sweet luring scent of my blood. Senses, are splashed onto the floor like a beautiful piece of art. I admire in pain and terror with my disfigured eyes. I know why my eyes are still there, an inner voice tells me, to witness every dismantling of me, in such beautiful cruelty. And I tremble with esctacy.

Everything’s gone but something’s still there. I look into the mirror. Crimson as ruby is the heart. I laugh with my eyes. And a fierce pang of pain shoot through the heart. Bitter, bitter is the pain. Harder, harder i laugh.

I laugh so hard that a film come over my eyes.
And my eyes fall off, with a drop of hanging red desperately clinching to the tip of the lashes.

The last tear I manage.
The last drop of my blood.

The heart stops.
And the broken mirror shatters into pieces.

Paris, Je T'aime 的小惊喜：

法国人也爱读村上
王尔德生命中最后的幽默: My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go.
______________________________________________________

So chyi and I were discussing about European lit on our way back from Paris, Je T'aime.

琪：“茶花女因该很穷吧。。”

哲（觉得问题很复杂）：“为什么这么说呢？”

琪（其实想得很简单）：“茶花女不是卖茶花的吗？”

哲：“！！！！（晕倒）”

琪：“eh?不是吗？？”

哲：“...”

琪：“shit.”

注：茶花女（La dame aux camélias) is a novel by Alexandre Dumas, fils. It is a story of a young man who has an affair with a courtesan, Marguerite. His father ends the affair, and Marguerite dies of tuberculosis. Apparently the much loved Moulin Rouge was adapted from this story.

I REALLY WANT TO WATCH THIS FILM

My wireless connection has been retardedly down for god-knows-what reason for the entire day. After hours of physical and psychological wear and tear, I simply accept that technology is stronger and more powerful than me: it works when it wants to, and when it doesnt, it's best to sit down and read a book or go for a walk , and just wait until the cable and network links are in a better mood and the computer decides to work again. I am not, i have discovered, my computer's master. It has a life on its own.

I've tired a few more times, but i have learnt from experience that it's best to just give up. The internet, the biggest library in the world, has just decided to close its doors to me for the moment.

AND I HAVE RESEARCH TO BE COMPLETED BY TONIGHT. BRAVO. The reason why i managed to post my frustrations is the act of illegal theft of random neighbour's wireless. Courtesy to the loopholes of technology.