"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



Wednesday, October 6, 2010

路邊攤

我們去了吃壽司,去了逛時裝店,你說你為了這頓晚飯,推卻了另一位朋友,我有點不好意思,說這只是你的事,又與我何干呢?你就說我如此正義,不會不動肝火。
然後我們去吃路邊攤,每人一碗生魚湯,和一碟煎餃子。你說你不開心,是因為連累我了。
天涼好個秋,細細看你的臉,是歲月不饒人,你呼出的煙霧繚繞,暫且把時光凝固就好了。

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