看了七月与安生

婚纱我穿上了，头纱我戴上了，

你怎不来了？

从此以后，我的视线永远都隔了层纱，看不清楚远方；

又或者，我的视线永远都隔了层纱，似乎看到了华发苍颜的我们依偎在摇椅上。

一辈子好像真的太长了

你让我爱你的那二千五百一十九天，

是二千五百一十九个满空繁星的夜晚，

是二千五百一十九个出光赫赫的早晨，

是二千五百一十九个姹紫嫣红的春天。

后来夜幕低垂，年深日久，却尽是无止境的痴心妄想。

那纱，我怎么舍得给自己掀起来呢？

I Don't Paint

Everyone is retarded in certain ways.
And I don't paint, I cant.

It's not about "don't be humble, it can't be that bad" or "everyone can paint, just look at the pictures and follow".
I just... can't...

I would look at any pictures, any objects,
imagining to have this tenuous relationship with it,
and I would pick up my pencil.

I could feel it, I could feel the energy that comes through creating with my hands,
the urge to discover,
the urge to capture,
the urge to create,
the urge to convey,
that I could express so much by starting to leave lines, colors and shades on the paper.

But...
it got stuck, the energy would just not be released,
it all got stuck at my wrist.

I do no have the ability to wisely twist my wrist to know where to place the first dot;
I do not have the ability to artistically flex and extend my fingers to make sensible connections between inks;
I do not have the ability to... make any sense out of this...

Frustratingly, tonnes and tonnes of images would play and play and replay in my head;
All the flawless images that could help to better express my flattened emotions, would only be obsessively painted in my head.
I, can never get it out.

I am retarded, that I can't paint.
I do not have the privilege to connect with people through this gestural doing of art.

依诚不变

试探地碰了你的手指头，你没有抗拒，只是抬头看着我。

不敢跟你的眼神对上，只是一直望着你的手；我知道你还盯着我看。

你的没有推开，给我添了勇气，小心翼翼地把我的手指伸进你的手指间，好似捧起一只小鸡。

柔柔的，暖暖的，很珍惜地感受你掌心的温度，我怀念的温度。 

我们十指紧扣着把饮料喝完，结了帐。

起身时，我大胆地挽着你的手臂。

壮壮的，暖暖的，很珍惜地感受你手臂的气概，我怀念的气概。

我们没有眼神交流，你没有把我推开。

缠着你的手，把耳朵贴近你的胸膛，听那久违的心跳。

我们没说什么，

就这样一直走，

漫无目的地走；

就这样一直走，

安静幸福地走。

然后，就醒了。

躺在本该舒适的双人床上，埋在本该温暖的厚被子里，顿时空虚得觉得自己就快要蒸发。

感觉着头发一根根脱落，头皮凉了；

睫毛一根根跌进眼睛里，视线密密麻麻；

体内的水分一点点地流失，乳房都碰及到了背心。

唯一的愿望便是让全身绑满砝码，永远永远永远沉入那梦，无尽无底地下坠。

我想，我选择了享受我的消极，毕竟这是我最熟悉的生活方式。

我想，我习惯了炫耀我的崩溃,至少这是我们最美丽的邂逅。

love is all

I was 8 and you were 18, and I cried the next morning I woke up;
I am 27 and you are 37, and I cried the whole night.

What doesn't kill me instantly stays as parasite, consuming me slowly.

Why is everything getting tougher, or why haven't I evolved?


... ... ... ... ... ...

It was you in my dream again, we were talking, we were talking just fine, like good friends, no awkwardness, no nothing, we were just talking like really good friends.

I miss you. I miss us.


... ... ... ... ... ...

It's beautiful, it's icy cold, and I don't have to see myself from its reflection. It's gorgeous.

无前奏的高潮

一样的台词，不一样的听众。

无前奏的：

默默地，成了毫无关系的第三者；

渐渐地，成了可怕的偷窥者；

剧终，于是拖着失败者的狼狈，不知什么时候，根本没被发觉地离开。

疯狂地奔跑，尽情地流泪；

呐喊却只能留在喉里，想念也只能憋在心里。

何时弹奏起那凄风残雨的旋律 ？

离开屋檐下，上前把落花一一亲吻了，把心坎都湿透了，便放任了那悲哀的懦弱。

—————————————————————————————————————————

那天，一觉醒来，不再记得你。

a day in August

Woke up to him stroking my hair, cuddling me tight.

Turned to look into his eyes, allowing him to brush his fingers along my backbones, tightening his arm around me.

He awakened the evil in me.

"What are you afraid of?" 

he asked.

"Why are you trying so hard to change yourself, to feed the society?"
"What's stopping you to take what you want?"

"I know, deep down, you want it so much" 

(Yes, I do. 

I want to crush,

I want to kill, 

I want to ruin, 

I want to fall and deprave.

and you won't be able to handle any of this.

and thus, I will just smile and be nice )

His kisses then took my shuddering breath away, and the devil in me grew so much stronger within seconds. My heart got cut on the edge of memories, the devil bled the hell out, and soon flooded with the sea of bloody abhorrent thoughts.


Never know that I would thirst for power so much, that he said that I chose power over pleasure.

The mind game drove me crazy, I wanted to be in control so much, that I almost ruin him... ... and myself.

fucked up. 

长久以来的压抑，原来在暗地里酝酿着这场风暴。

你走了，我选择留下。
不管逃到多远，你似乎已经不在；目之所及，却都是你我。

Kiss you goodbye 😘😘😘

当快乐只留给周末，这并不是理想生活。

It will soon be a month, and I have not been what I want to be, 

or this could be me already.

P/s: 堕落与坚强二选一，比决定午餐还要简单多了。