Sunday, 22 November 2009

11.21

…Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all.  Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me.  And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff.  What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them.  That's all I do all day.  I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all.  I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be.

…I have a feeling that you're riding for some kind of a terrible, terrible fall.  But I don't honestly know what kind.... It may be the kind where, at the age of thirty, you sit in some bar hating everybody who comes in looking as if he might have played football in college.  Then again, you may pick up just enough education to hate people who say, 'It's a secret between he and I.'  Or you may end up in some business office, throwing paper clips at the nearest stenographer.  I just don't know.

Nature is not cruel, pitiless, indifferent. This is one of the hardest lessons for humans to learn. We cannot admit that things might be neither good nor evil, neither cruel nor kind, but simply callous -- indifferent to all suffering, lacking all purpose.

Sunday, 1 November 2009

no subject

史上最郁结的11月,就像已经近似耗尽的battery,好像关机一段时间捂热了再打开可以抽筋一样精神起来,然而到底强弩之末了.

很久没吃金陵dojo,很久没有穿高跟鞋拖地裙,很久找不到一个破烂却笃实的地方看书,我不再热爱无所事事的压马路,曾经一度最衷情的活动--好像应该呼朋引伴白日放歌纵酒,却好像更应该一个人窝在沙发里扯着连绵不绝的音响声线纠缠.大家的日子该是继续阳光灿烂吧?我好像在真空罩子里,干渴而绝望.