亲爱的，终有一天遇见你。现在有多么东西想告诉你。
Merry Christmas
Friday, December 25, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
things just repeating?
Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time.
Paulo Coelho
Paulo Coelho
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Apollo and Daphne
Daphne was Apollo's first love. It was not brought about by accident, but by the malice of Cupid. Apollo saw the boy playing with his bow and arrows; and being himself elated with his recent victory over Python, he said to him, "What have you to do with warlike weapons, saucy boy? Leave them for hands worthy of them. Behold the conquest I have won by means of them over the vast serpent who stretched his poisonous body over acres of the plain! Be content with your torch, child, and kindle up your flames, as you call them, where you will, but presume not to meddle with my weapons."
Venus's boy heard these words, and rejoined, ":Your arrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike you.:" So saying, he took his stand on a rock of Parnassus, and drew from his quiver two arrows of different workmanship, one to excite love, the other to repel it. The former was of gold and sharp- pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead. With the leaden shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river god Peneus, and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart. Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland sports and in the spoils of the chase. Many lovers sought her, but she spurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking thought neither of Cupid nor of Hymen. Her father often said to her, "Daughter, you owe me a son-in-law; you owe me grandchildren." She, hating the thought of marriage as a crime, with her beautiful face tinged all over with blushes, threw her arms around her father's neck, and said, "Dearest father, grant me this favor, that I may always remain unmarried, like Diana." He consented, but at the same time said, "Your own face will forbid it."
Apollo loved her, and longed to obtain her; and he who gives oracles to all in the world was not wise enough to look into his own fortunes. He saw her hair flung loose over her shoulders, and said, "If so charming in disorder, what would it be if arranged?" He saw her eyes bright as stars; he saw her lips, and was not satisfied with only seeing them. He admired her hands and arms bared to the shoulder, and whatever was hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties. "Stay," said he, "daughter of Peneus; I am not a foe. Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter is my father, and I am lord of Delphos and Tenedos, and know all things, present and future. I am the god of song and the lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but alas! An arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! I am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing plants. Alas! I suffer a malady that no balm can cure!"
The nymph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered. And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The god grew impatient to find his wooings thrown away, and, sped by Cupid, gained upon her in the race. It was like a hound pursuing a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and the virgin he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear. The pursuer is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his panting breath blows upon her hair. Now her strength begins to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god: "Help me, Peneus! Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger!"
Scarcely had she spoken, when a stiffness seized all her limbs; her bosom began to be enclosed in a tender bark; her hair became leaves; her arms became branches; her feet stuck fast in the ground, as roots; her face became a tree-top, retaining nothing of its former self but its beauty. Apollo stood amazed. He touched the stem, and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark. He embraced the branches, and lavished kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips. "Since you cannot be my wife," said he, "you shall assuredly be my tree. I will wear you for my crown. With you I will decorate my harp and my quiver; and when the great Roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp to the Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows. And, as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be always green, and your leaf know no decay." The nymph, now changed into a laurel tree, bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment.
Apollo was god of music and of poetry and also of medicine. For, as the poet Armstrong says, himself a physician:--
"Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, Expels disease, softens every pain; And hence the wise of ancient days adored One power of physic, melody, and song."
The story of Apollo and Daphne is often alluded to by the poets. Waller applies it to the case of one whose amatory verses, though they did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the poet wide-spread fame.
"Yet what he sung in his immortal strain, Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain. All but the nymph that should redress his wrong, Attend his passion and approve his song. Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise, He caught at love and filled his arms with bays."
The following stanza from Shelley's Adonais alludes to Byron's early quarrel with the reviewers:--
"The herded wolves, bold only to pursue; The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead; The vultures, to the conqueror's banner true, Who feed where Desolation first has fed. And whose wings rain contagion; how they fled, When like Apollo, from his golden bow, The Pythian of the age one arrow sped And smiled! The spoilers tempt no second blow; They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them as they go."
(from Bulfinch's Mythology: The Age of Fable )
Venus's boy heard these words, and rejoined, ":Your arrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike you.:" So saying, he took his stand on a rock of Parnassus, and drew from his quiver two arrows of different workmanship, one to excite love, the other to repel it. The former was of gold and sharp- pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead. With the leaden shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river god Peneus, and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart. Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland sports and in the spoils of the chase. Many lovers sought her, but she spurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking thought neither of Cupid nor of Hymen. Her father often said to her, "Daughter, you owe me a son-in-law; you owe me grandchildren." She, hating the thought of marriage as a crime, with her beautiful face tinged all over with blushes, threw her arms around her father's neck, and said, "Dearest father, grant me this favor, that I may always remain unmarried, like Diana." He consented, but at the same time said, "Your own face will forbid it."
Apollo loved her, and longed to obtain her; and he who gives oracles to all in the world was not wise enough to look into his own fortunes. He saw her hair flung loose over her shoulders, and said, "If so charming in disorder, what would it be if arranged?" He saw her eyes bright as stars; he saw her lips, and was not satisfied with only seeing them. He admired her hands and arms bared to the shoulder, and whatever was hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties. "Stay," said he, "daughter of Peneus; I am not a foe. Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter is my father, and I am lord of Delphos and Tenedos, and know all things, present and future. I am the god of song and the lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but alas! An arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! I am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing plants. Alas! I suffer a malady that no balm can cure!"
The nymph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered. And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The god grew impatient to find his wooings thrown away, and, sped by Cupid, gained upon her in the race. It was like a hound pursuing a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and the virgin he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear. The pursuer is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his panting breath blows upon her hair. Now her strength begins to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god: "Help me, Peneus! Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger!"
Scarcely had she spoken, when a stiffness seized all her limbs; her bosom began to be enclosed in a tender bark; her hair became leaves; her arms became branches; her feet stuck fast in the ground, as roots; her face became a tree-top, retaining nothing of its former self but its beauty. Apollo stood amazed. He touched the stem, and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark. He embraced the branches, and lavished kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips. "Since you cannot be my wife," said he, "you shall assuredly be my tree. I will wear you for my crown. With you I will decorate my harp and my quiver; and when the great Roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp to the Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows. And, as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be always green, and your leaf know no decay." The nymph, now changed into a laurel tree, bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment.
Apollo was god of music and of poetry and also of medicine. For, as the poet Armstrong says, himself a physician:--
"Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, Expels disease, softens every pain; And hence the wise of ancient days adored One power of physic, melody, and song."
The story of Apollo and Daphne is often alluded to by the poets. Waller applies it to the case of one whose amatory verses, though they did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the poet wide-spread fame.
"Yet what he sung in his immortal strain, Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain. All but the nymph that should redress his wrong, Attend his passion and approve his song. Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise, He caught at love and filled his arms with bays."
The following stanza from Shelley's Adonais alludes to Byron's early quarrel with the reviewers:--
"The herded wolves, bold only to pursue; The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead; The vultures, to the conqueror's banner true, Who feed where Desolation first has fed. And whose wings rain contagion; how they fled, When like Apollo, from his golden bow, The Pythian of the age one arrow sped And smiled! The spoilers tempt no second blow; They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them as they go."
(from Bulfinch's Mythology: The Age of Fable )
很抱歉，我没有爱你一辈子
***是的，失望。她并没有爱我一辈子。我已习惯她对我的爱。有时最灰色的时候我会冲动的告诉自己：尚有一个非常年轻貌美的女孩子为我倾倒，别太悲观。
现在还剩下什么？…
***无边无涯的寂寞袭上心头。我扭一扭驾驶？盘，车子往家驶去。
呵衣莎贝。你怎么可以忘记我。怎么可以。
***“我心目中留下玛丽最好的印象，一直保留着，为怀念而怀念，但是再看见她的真面目，我不再留恋，沙伦，这一年来你默默地爱护我――”
***“很抱歉，玛丽，我没有爱你一辈子。”我的声音很低
***她彻头彻尾地令其我失望，可以说我到此才认识了她的为人。
***我走了，觉得非常疲倦，恋爱这件事，不但当其时累，过后尚有一大堆后遗症，有些人恋爱一次，终身抱恨，所以对于沙伦对我的容忍和谅解，我更加感激。
***我想一段感情，消失了就该消失，一去不回头，我茫然：这就是我曾经一度，深爱过的女郎吗？我为她失眠、流泪、伤怀，曾经一度，她是我的太阳，我的生命轨道随她而行，一切都是为了她……
而现在，她就是一个陌生人。
***世界上是有这种男孩子的，一忽儿对着甲女要生要死，非卿不娶，转眼又追求乙女去了，说的话一模一样，像播放录音带似的。
***在适当的时候，适当的地点，会有适当的人出现。我会把过去一切都忘记，重新开始。
***曾经一度，我同时拥有过两个爱人。
<<花事了>> - 亦舒
现在还剩下什么？…
***无边无涯的寂寞袭上心头。我扭一扭驾驶？盘，车子往家驶去。
呵衣莎贝。你怎么可以忘记我。怎么可以。
***“我心目中留下玛丽最好的印象，一直保留着，为怀念而怀念，但是再看见她的真面目，我不再留恋，沙伦，这一年来你默默地爱护我――”
***“很抱歉，玛丽，我没有爱你一辈子。”我的声音很低
***她彻头彻尾地令其我失望，可以说我到此才认识了她的为人。
***我走了，觉得非常疲倦，恋爱这件事，不但当其时累，过后尚有一大堆后遗症，有些人恋爱一次，终身抱恨，所以对于沙伦对我的容忍和谅解，我更加感激。
***我想一段感情，消失了就该消失，一去不回头，我茫然：这就是我曾经一度，深爱过的女郎吗？我为她失眠、流泪、伤怀，曾经一度，她是我的太阳，我的生命轨道随她而行，一切都是为了她……
而现在，她就是一个陌生人。
***世界上是有这种男孩子的，一忽儿对着甲女要生要死，非卿不娶，转眼又追求乙女去了，说的话一模一样，像播放录音带似的。
***在适当的时候，适当的地点，会有适当的人出现。我会把过去一切都忘记，重新开始。
***曾经一度，我同时拥有过两个爱人。
<<花事了>> - 亦舒
Friday, December 18, 2009
四月的一个晴朗的早晨,遇见一个百分百女孩
四月一个晴朗的早晨，我在原宿后街同一个百分之百的女孩擦肩而过。
不讳地说，女孩算不得怎么漂亮，并无吸引人之处，衣着也不出众，脑后的头发执着地带有睡觉挤压的痕迹。年龄也已不小了---应该快有30了。 严格地说来，恐怕很难称之为女孩。然而，相距50米开外我便一眼看出：对于我来说，她是个百分之百的女孩。从看见她身姿的那一瞬间，我的胸口便如发生地鸣 一般的震颤，口中如沙漠干得沙沙作响。
或许你也有你的理想女孩。例如喜欢足颈细弱的女孩，毕竟眼睛大的女孩，十指绝对好看的女孩，或不明所以地迷上慢慢花时间进食的女孩。我当然有自己的偏爱。在饭店时就曾看邻桌一个女孩的鼻形看得发呆。
但要明确勾勒百分之百的女孩形象，任何人都无法做到。我就绝对想不起她长有怎样的鼻子。甚至是否有鼻子都已记不真切，现在我所能记的，只有她并非十分漂亮这一点。事情也真是不可思议。
“昨天在路上同一个百分之百的女孩擦肩而过。”我对一个人说。
“唔，”他应道，“人可漂亮？”
“不，不是说这个。”
“那，是合你口味那种类型喽？”
“记不得了。眼睛什么样啦，胸部是大是小啦，统统忘得一干二净。”
“莫名其妙啊！”
“是莫名其妙。”
“那么，”他显得兴味索然，“你做什么了？搭话了？还是跟踪了？”
“什么都没有做。”我说，“仅仅是擦肩而过。”
她由东往西走，我从西向东去，在四月里一个神清气爽的早晨。
我想和她说话，哪怕30分钟也好。想打听她的身世，也想全盘托出自己的身世。而更重要的，是想弄清导致1981年4月一个晴朗的早晨我们在原宿后街擦肩而过这一命运的原委。里面肯定充满和平时代的古老机器般温馨的秘密。
如此谈罢，我们可以找地方吃午饭，看伍迪。爱伦的影片，再顺路到宾馆里的酒吧喝鸡尾酒什么的。弄得好，喝完说不定能同她睡上一觉。
可能性在扣击我的心扉。
我和她之间的距离以近至十五六米了。
问题是，我到底该如何向她搭话呢？
“你好！和我说说话可以吗？哪怕３０分钟也好。”
过于傻气，简直象劝人加入保险。
“请问，这一带有２４小时营业的洗衣店吗？”
这也同样傻里傻气。何况我岂非连洗衣袋都没带！有谁能相信我的道白呢？
也许开门见山好些。“你好！你对我可是百分之百的女孩哟！”
不，不成，她恐怕不会相信我的表白。纵然相信，也未必愿同我说什么话。她可能这样说：即便我对你是百分之百的女孩，你对我可不是百分之百的男 人，抱歉！而这是大有可能的。假如陷入这般境地，我肯定全然不知所措。这一打击说不定使我一蹶不振。我已３２岁，所谓上年纪归根结底便是这么一回事。
我是在花店门前和她擦肩而过的，那暖暖的小小的气块儿触到我的肌肤。柏油路面洒了水，周围荡漾着玫瑰花香。连向她打声招呼我都未能做到。她 身穿白毛衣，右手拿一个尚未贴邮票的四方信封。她给谁写了封信。那般睡眼惺忪，说不定整整写了一个晚上。那四方信封里有可能装有她的全部秘密。
走几步回头时，她的身影早已消失在人群中。
※ ※ ※
当然，今天我已完全清楚当时应怎样向她搭话。但不管怎么说，那道白实在太长，我笃定表达不好――就是这样，我所想到的每每不够实用。
总之，道白自“很久很久以前”开始，而以“你不觉得这是个忧伤的故事吗”结束。
※ ※ ※
很久很久以前，有个地方有一个少男和一个少女。少男１８，少女１６。少男算不得英俊，少女也不怎么漂亮，无非随处可见的孤独而平常的少男少女。但两人一直坚信世上某个地方一定存在百分之百适合自己的少女和少男。是的，两人相信奇迹，而奇迹果真发生了。
一天两人在街头不期而遇。
“真巧！我一直在寻找你。也许你不相信，你对我是百分之百的男孩。从头到脚跟我想象的一模一样。简直是在做梦。‘
两人坐在公园长椅上，手拉手，百谈不厌。两人已不再孤独。百分之百需求对方，百分之百已被对方需求。而百分之百需求对方和百分之百地被对方需求是何等美妙的事情啊！这已是宇宙奇迹！
但两人心中掠过一个小小的，的确小而又小的疑虑：梦想如此轻易成真是否就是好事？
交谈突然中断时，少男这样说道：
“我说，再尝试一次吧！如果我们两人真是一对百分之百的恋人的话，肯定还会有一天在哪里相遇。下次相遇时如果仍觉得对方百分之百，就马上在那里结婚，好么？
“好的。”少女回答。
于是两人分开，各奔东西。
然而说实在话，根本没有必要尝试，纯属多此一举。为什么呢？因为两人的的确确是一对百分之百的恋人，因为那是奇迹般的邂逅。但两人过于年轻，没办法知道这许多。于是无情的命运开始捉弄两人。
一年冬天，两人都染上了那年肆虐的恶性流感。在死亡线徘徊几个星期后，过去的记忆丧失殆尽。事情也真是离奇。当两人睁眼醒来时，脑袋里犹如d。h劳伦斯少年时代的贮币盒一样空空如也。
但这对青年男女毕竟聪颖豁达且极有毅力，经过不懈努力，终于再度获得了新的知识新的情感，胜任愉快地重返社会生活。啊，我的上帝！这两人真是无可挑剔！他们完全能够换乘地铁，能够在邮局寄交快信了。并且分别体验了百分之七十五和百分之八十五的恋爱。
如此一来二去，少男32，少女31岁了。时光以惊人的速度流逝。
四月一个晴朗的早晨，少男为喝折价早咖啡沿原宿后街由西向东走，少女为买快信邮票沿同一条街由东向西去，两人恰在路中间失之交臂。失却的记忆的微光刹那间照亮两颗心。两人胸口陡然悸颤，并且得知：
她对我是百分之百的女孩。
他对我是百分之百的男孩。
然而两人记忆的烛光委实过于微弱，两人的话语也不似十四年前那般清晰。结果连句话也没说便擦身而过，径直消失在人群中，永远永远。
你不觉得这是个令人感伤的故事么？
是的，我本该这样向她搭话。
《遇见100%女孩》村上春树
不讳地说，女孩算不得怎么漂亮，并无吸引人之处，衣着也不出众，脑后的头发执着地带有睡觉挤压的痕迹。年龄也已不小了---应该快有30了。 严格地说来，恐怕很难称之为女孩。然而，相距50米开外我便一眼看出：对于我来说，她是个百分之百的女孩。从看见她身姿的那一瞬间，我的胸口便如发生地鸣 一般的震颤，口中如沙漠干得沙沙作响。
或许你也有你的理想女孩。例如喜欢足颈细弱的女孩，毕竟眼睛大的女孩，十指绝对好看的女孩，或不明所以地迷上慢慢花时间进食的女孩。我当然有自己的偏爱。在饭店时就曾看邻桌一个女孩的鼻形看得发呆。
但要明确勾勒百分之百的女孩形象，任何人都无法做到。我就绝对想不起她长有怎样的鼻子。甚至是否有鼻子都已记不真切，现在我所能记的，只有她并非十分漂亮这一点。事情也真是不可思议。
“昨天在路上同一个百分之百的女孩擦肩而过。”我对一个人说。
“唔，”他应道，“人可漂亮？”
“不，不是说这个。”
“那，是合你口味那种类型喽？”
“记不得了。眼睛什么样啦，胸部是大是小啦，统统忘得一干二净。”
“莫名其妙啊！”
“是莫名其妙。”
“那么，”他显得兴味索然，“你做什么了？搭话了？还是跟踪了？”
“什么都没有做。”我说，“仅仅是擦肩而过。”
她由东往西走，我从西向东去，在四月里一个神清气爽的早晨。
我想和她说话，哪怕30分钟也好。想打听她的身世，也想全盘托出自己的身世。而更重要的，是想弄清导致1981年4月一个晴朗的早晨我们在原宿后街擦肩而过这一命运的原委。里面肯定充满和平时代的古老机器般温馨的秘密。
如此谈罢，我们可以找地方吃午饭，看伍迪。爱伦的影片，再顺路到宾馆里的酒吧喝鸡尾酒什么的。弄得好，喝完说不定能同她睡上一觉。
可能性在扣击我的心扉。
我和她之间的距离以近至十五六米了。
问题是，我到底该如何向她搭话呢？
“你好！和我说说话可以吗？哪怕３０分钟也好。”
过于傻气，简直象劝人加入保险。
“请问，这一带有２４小时营业的洗衣店吗？”
这也同样傻里傻气。何况我岂非连洗衣袋都没带！有谁能相信我的道白呢？
也许开门见山好些。“你好！你对我可是百分之百的女孩哟！”
不，不成，她恐怕不会相信我的表白。纵然相信，也未必愿同我说什么话。她可能这样说：即便我对你是百分之百的女孩，你对我可不是百分之百的男 人，抱歉！而这是大有可能的。假如陷入这般境地，我肯定全然不知所措。这一打击说不定使我一蹶不振。我已３２岁，所谓上年纪归根结底便是这么一回事。
我是在花店门前和她擦肩而过的，那暖暖的小小的气块儿触到我的肌肤。柏油路面洒了水，周围荡漾着玫瑰花香。连向她打声招呼我都未能做到。她 身穿白毛衣，右手拿一个尚未贴邮票的四方信封。她给谁写了封信。那般睡眼惺忪，说不定整整写了一个晚上。那四方信封里有可能装有她的全部秘密。
走几步回头时，她的身影早已消失在人群中。
※ ※ ※
当然，今天我已完全清楚当时应怎样向她搭话。但不管怎么说，那道白实在太长，我笃定表达不好――就是这样，我所想到的每每不够实用。
总之，道白自“很久很久以前”开始，而以“你不觉得这是个忧伤的故事吗”结束。
※ ※ ※
很久很久以前，有个地方有一个少男和一个少女。少男１８，少女１６。少男算不得英俊，少女也不怎么漂亮，无非随处可见的孤独而平常的少男少女。但两人一直坚信世上某个地方一定存在百分之百适合自己的少女和少男。是的，两人相信奇迹，而奇迹果真发生了。
一天两人在街头不期而遇。
“真巧！我一直在寻找你。也许你不相信，你对我是百分之百的男孩。从头到脚跟我想象的一模一样。简直是在做梦。‘
两人坐在公园长椅上，手拉手，百谈不厌。两人已不再孤独。百分之百需求对方，百分之百已被对方需求。而百分之百需求对方和百分之百地被对方需求是何等美妙的事情啊！这已是宇宙奇迹！
但两人心中掠过一个小小的，的确小而又小的疑虑：梦想如此轻易成真是否就是好事？
交谈突然中断时，少男这样说道：
“我说，再尝试一次吧！如果我们两人真是一对百分之百的恋人的话，肯定还会有一天在哪里相遇。下次相遇时如果仍觉得对方百分之百，就马上在那里结婚，好么？
“好的。”少女回答。
于是两人分开，各奔东西。
然而说实在话，根本没有必要尝试，纯属多此一举。为什么呢？因为两人的的确确是一对百分之百的恋人，因为那是奇迹般的邂逅。但两人过于年轻，没办法知道这许多。于是无情的命运开始捉弄两人。
一年冬天，两人都染上了那年肆虐的恶性流感。在死亡线徘徊几个星期后，过去的记忆丧失殆尽。事情也真是离奇。当两人睁眼醒来时，脑袋里犹如d。h劳伦斯少年时代的贮币盒一样空空如也。
但这对青年男女毕竟聪颖豁达且极有毅力，经过不懈努力，终于再度获得了新的知识新的情感，胜任愉快地重返社会生活。啊，我的上帝！这两人真是无可挑剔！他们完全能够换乘地铁，能够在邮局寄交快信了。并且分别体验了百分之七十五和百分之八十五的恋爱。
如此一来二去，少男32，少女31岁了。时光以惊人的速度流逝。
四月一个晴朗的早晨，少男为喝折价早咖啡沿原宿后街由西向东走，少女为买快信邮票沿同一条街由东向西去，两人恰在路中间失之交臂。失却的记忆的微光刹那间照亮两颗心。两人胸口陡然悸颤，并且得知：
她对我是百分之百的女孩。
他对我是百分之百的男孩。
然而两人记忆的烛光委实过于微弱，两人的话语也不似十四年前那般清晰。结果连句话也没说便擦身而过，径直消失在人群中，永远永远。
你不觉得这是个令人感伤的故事么？
是的，我本该这样向她搭话。
《遇见100%女孩》村上春树
爱情使人忘记时间，时间也使人忘记爱情。
一个女孩子来信说，她看了《雪地里的蜗牛奄列》之后，不明白书里这两句： “爱情使人忘记时间，时间也使人忘记爱情。” 当你爱上一个人，你会忘记时间存在。你可以每天二十四小时跟他一起。你不介意花十四小时乘飞机从香港到美国跟他见一面，然后又匆匆赶回来。为了跟他见面，你会把重要会议延期，把重要的工作放在一旁。你们约会之后，还可以拿着电话筒聊到天亮。 爱情使人忘记时间流逝。你会忘记自己的年纪。六十岁的人也会以为自己只有十八岁。你会许下一生一世的承诺，忘记时间会改变一切。 然而，时间流逝，也会使人忘记爱情曾经存在。两个人一起的日子久了，爱情一点一滴的消逝。他忘记了这些年来他多么爱你，他忘记了你们曾经多么快乐，也忘记了你们一起经历了许多事情。忘记了，所以他爱上了别人。 当时间过去，我们忘记了我们曾经义无反顾地爱过一个人，忘记了他的温柔。忘记了他为我做的一切。我对他再没有感觉，我不再爱他了。为什么会这样？原来我们的爱情败给了岁月。 首先是爱情使你忘记时间，然后是时间使你忘记爱情。
亚对爱美说起自己遭遇:『爱应该是永恒，而我和她之间却没有这种关系，一切都结束了，也就是说我们的爱只是一种错觉，说不定从一开始就没有爱，随著时间的流逝，我的悲伤也逐渐淡忘，我不禁怀疑世上本来就没有永恒的爱。』 爱美对野亚道:『会结束的并不是爱，而是恋。纵使爱人已逝，他的一切还是会留在心里，无法割舍，然後不想再和任何人谈恋爱，而唯一能破解这个模式的只有，爱....』
——《世纪末之诗》
『 你知道人为什么害怕黑暗吗？因为太阳是明亮的，会把事实赤裸裸的呈现在众人面前。可是，黑暗却把事情的真相悄悄地搁置，而大家怕的其实是看见事情的真相。』 『当长时间在一起生活，呼吸相同的空气，已经到了少不了彼此的程度，所以一但被拆散，便会产生一种切肤般的痛处… 』这就是所谓的亲情，爱，其实像呼吸… 大概只有在对方去世之後，爱才会成为令人怀念的回忆吧!因为彼此已经不再猜忌？ 『恋和爱是不同的，有时恋情转变为爱是困难的，恋是喜乐的、快乐的，就算结束也可以夹在相簿中。偶尔回忆起来，可以打开来看，而真爱却不同，真爱的悲苦忧伤会铭刻於心，难以抹灭的伤痕，也会留在彼此心灵深处，因为彼此还要活下去...』 『人到底是孤独的动物。总是常常一方面伤害对方，又一方面拿著绷带接近对方，尽做些自虐的行为。将瞬间的牵绊转化为永恒的安定，这就是爱吧!』
——《世纪末之诗》 野岛伸司
亚对爱美说起自己遭遇:『爱应该是永恒，而我和她之间却没有这种关系，一切都结束了，也就是说我们的爱只是一种错觉，说不定从一开始就没有爱，随著时间的流逝，我的悲伤也逐渐淡忘，我不禁怀疑世上本来就没有永恒的爱。』 爱美对野亚道:『会结束的并不是爱，而是恋。纵使爱人已逝，他的一切还是会留在心里，无法割舍，然後不想再和任何人谈恋爱，而唯一能破解这个模式的只有，爱....』
——《世纪末之诗》
『 你知道人为什么害怕黑暗吗？因为太阳是明亮的，会把事实赤裸裸的呈现在众人面前。可是，黑暗却把事情的真相悄悄地搁置，而大家怕的其实是看见事情的真相。』 『当长时间在一起生活，呼吸相同的空气，已经到了少不了彼此的程度，所以一但被拆散，便会产生一种切肤般的痛处… 』这就是所谓的亲情，爱，其实像呼吸… 大概只有在对方去世之後，爱才会成为令人怀念的回忆吧!因为彼此已经不再猜忌？ 『恋和爱是不同的，有时恋情转变为爱是困难的，恋是喜乐的、快乐的，就算结束也可以夹在相簿中。偶尔回忆起来，可以打开来看，而真爱却不同，真爱的悲苦忧伤会铭刻於心，难以抹灭的伤痕，也会留在彼此心灵深处，因为彼此还要活下去...』 『人到底是孤独的动物。总是常常一方面伤害对方，又一方面拿著绷带接近对方，尽做些自虐的行为。将瞬间的牵绊转化为永恒的安定，这就是爱吧!』
——《世纪末之诗》 野岛伸司
在重重叠叠的时光里
我们一直以为，时间是自有永有的，我们在时间的长河里经历生老病死，岁月容枯．然而，科学家说，时间其实是弯弯曲曲的。因为弯曲，所以会有许多时空交叠．每个人都在某个时空交接，或擦肩而过，或相遇相爱，或是离别之后被思念折磨．我们所谓的过去与现在，也许是虚无的．那么，所谓永远，不过是人类主观的愿望，而不是一个客观的实体．永远，到底有多远呢？我们追求永远的爱，却不知道什么是永远，那是多么的好笑？我们老是觉得思念的时光是漫长的，而会议都是美好的．假使时间弯曲，也就无所谓＂逝者如斯＂了．我们渴望跟所爱的人有一个美好的将来，然而在重重叠叠的时光里，并没有所谓的将来．英国物理学家巴不雅在他的近作＜时间的终结＞一书里说：时间不过是一种认为的测量方式，并非真实存在．日出月落，季节迁移，人的衰老，是物质生长的必然过程，时间和空间一样，只是见证这一切．巴布雅认为，天下万物，包括宇宙和人类，也无所谓过去与将来．只有现在，每一个现在，都包含了从前与将来．流逝的光阴，不过是人类的幻觉．现在就是永远，这是科学家说的．在相爱之前，也许我们曾经相遇，相聚的每一刻就是将来．纵使有一天，我们分开了．天涯各处，我们仍是在一起的．这样相信的话，是不是比较幸福？在流淌的岁月，我们从未分开，而是重叠又重叠．唯一的真实，是肉体会败亡．时光可以轮回，人却不能．相爱的时候，就要珍惜每一个现在．你是不会重来的的，我也无可能复活．
:蝴蝶过期居留－张小娴
:蝴蝶过期居留－张小娴
Thursday, December 17, 2009
The only mystery never solved
Eisenheim: I was meant to return... I just... I kept thinking I'll find around the next corner... Sophie: What? Eisenheim: A real mystery. I saw remarkable things but the only mystery I never solved was... why my heart couldn't let go of you.
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Eisenheim: From the moment we enter this live we are in the flow of it. We measure it and We mock it, but we cannot defy it. We cannot even speed it up or slow it down. Or can we? Have we not each experienced the sensation that a beautiful moment seemed to pass to quickly, and wished that we could make it linger? Or felt time slow on a dull day, and wished that we could speed things up a bit?
:The Illusionist
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Eisenheim: From the moment we enter this live we are in the flow of it. We measure it and We mock it, but we cannot defy it. We cannot even speed it up or slow it down. Or can we? Have we not each experienced the sensation that a beautiful moment seemed to pass to quickly, and wished that we could make it linger? Or felt time slow on a dull day, and wished that we could speed things up a bit?
:The Illusionist
The more suffer, the more love.
"I'm not frightened. I'm not frightened of anything. The more I suffer, the more I love. Danger will only increase my love. It will sharpen it, forgive its vice. I will be the only angel you need. You will leave life even more beautiful than you entered it. Heaven will take you back and look at you and say: Only one thing can make a soul complete and that thing is love."
: The Reader
: The Reader
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