"Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs on hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate—he has little success in this—but with the other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins, for he sees different (and more) things than do the others; after all, dead as he is in his own lifetime, he is the real survivor. This assumes that he does not need both hands, or more hands than he has, in his struggle against despair."--Kafka



Monday, March 5, 2012

這是一年多前亂寫的文字。

那夜他跟我說,你就相信一下你的身體
我以為我的狀況是,把我的靈魂從身體擠掉,身體什麼都不是
靈魂已是我的全部
有一群蝴蝶飛舞
在荒田


而清高,不是配作我的形容詞
周圍有如此多比我
更青春可愛俏皮美麗的女孩
她們在跳在笑
享受那皮囊的快慰
帽衣裙鞋
那我就
繼續赤裸依偎在我的被窩
裝飾靈魂作榮耀
長眠

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