Liberty - Paul Eluard (1945)

On my school notebooks
On my desk and on the trees
On the powdery snow
I write your name

On the pages read
On all the blank pages
Stone, blood, paper or ash
I write your name

On the gilt imgaines
On the warriors' weapons
On the king's crown
I write your name

On the jungle and the desert
On the nests and the briers
On the echo of my youth
I write your name

On all my blue scarves
On the damp sunlit swamps
On the living moonlit lake
I write your name

On the fields, on the horizon
On the birds' wings
And on the shadowy mill
I write your name

On every daybreak breeze
On the sea, on the boats
On the demented peaks
I write your name

On the froth of the cloud
On the sweat of the storm
On the dense, flat rain
I write your name

On the scintillating forms
On the colorful bells
On the physical truth
I write your name

On the elevated paths
On the deployed roads
On the overcrowded city square
I write your name

On the lit lamp
On the spent lamp
On my reunited reasonings
I write your name

On the bisected fruit
Of my mirror and my room
On my bed, my empty shell
I write your name

On my dog, sweet gourmand
On his piqued ears
On his blundering paws
I write your name

On the latch of my door
On those familiar objects
On the torrent of a bonfire
I write your name

On all comfortable flesh
On the foreheads of my friends
On all outstretched hands
I write your name

On the windowpane of surprises
On the expectant lips
Far deeper than silence
I write your name

On my ruiined hiding-places
On my sunken lighthouses
On my walls and my boredom
I write your name

On absence without desire
On naked solitude
On death's march
I write your name

And by the power of a word
I regain my life
I was born to know you
To name you

Liberty. 

The Infinity of Lists - Umberto Eco

The fear of being unable to say everything seizes us not only when we are faced with an infinity of names but also with an infinity of things.  

Quisquis amat ranam, ranam putat esse Dianam [whosoever loves a frog, thinks that frog Diana].

Finally, we come to the Mother of all Lists, infinite by definition because it is in constant evolution, the World Wide Web, which is both web and labyrinth, not an ordered tree, and which of all vertigos promises us the most mystical, almost totally virtual one, and really offers us a catalogue of iinformation that makes us feel wealthy and omnipotent, the only snag being that we don't know which of its elements refers to data from the real world and which does not, no longer with any distinction between truth and error. 

上癮五百年 Forces of Habit - David T Courtwright

我要...... 一個撒了糖霜的蛋糕﹐但希望是巧克力口味的﹐裡面的巧克力也要黑得像被燻黑的魔鬼屁股。Marquis de Sade

幸福感與解脫感都是化學分子湊巧產生的結果。只有少數有毒的分子(如果這些分子能夠順利進入循環系統並且穿越從血液到大腦的障礙) 能夠模擬或影響腦部的獎賞與痛苦的控制中樞之內的神經傳導素。身體機能在快感方面很是吝嗇。誘發幸福感的神經傳導素分配得非常儉省﹐而且大都發給對於求生或繁衍后代有益的表現。藥物會矇騙這個發送系統﹐促使這些誘發快感的神經傳導素暫時增多。

曾經上癮的人就算徹底解毒  - 古柯鹼之類的藥物完全戒除乾淨可能需要好幾個月時間﹐也會變了一個人。大腦會記得達到快感的化學藥物捷徑﹐生活環境中的細微線索 - 例如常去的酒館招牌 - 都可能挑起強烈的渴望。藥物上癮是一種慢性的﹐好復發的腦部疾病。

.....抓住消費習慣仍有可塑性的年輕人。受影響度排行榜第一的是年輕﹐單身﹐人際活動偏少﹐欠缺體質或文化背景上的防範機製﹐已經在使用其他藥物的都市男性﹐這一類人最有可能試用新的藥物﹐而且試用後會上癮。

美國人即使負擔不起車子也要開車﹐不該看電影的時候也照樣上電影院﹐為了買香煙幾乎什麼都可以不要。假如你想賺錢﹐要挑一個可靠的壞習慣。人在年頭不好的時候會放棄很多必須品﹐卻絕不會想到要戒掉自己的壞習慣。 

據說﹐杜克剛知道有製煙機﹐就要人拿一本世界地圖給他看。他一頁頁翻著﹐不看地圖﹐只看人口數字。翻到中國這一頁﹐看見「人口﹕四億三千萬」﹐他便說﹐那就是我們要去賣香煙的地方。

Michael Ondaatje - Divisadero

When I come to lie in your arms, you sometimes ask me in which historical moment do I wish to exist. And I will say Paris, the week Colette died... Paris, August 3rd, 1954. In a few days, at her state funeral, a thousand lilies will be placed by her grave, and I want to be there, walking that avenue of wet lime trees until I stand beneath the second-floor apartment that belonged to her in the Palais-Royal. The history of people like her fills my heart. she was a writer who remarked that her only virtue was self-doubt. (A day sor two before she died, they say Colette was visited by Jean Genet, who stole nothing. Ah, The grace of the great thief...)

'We have art," Nietzche said, "so that we shall not be destroyed by the truth."

那些我躺在你手臂上的時刻﹐有時你問我最想回到哪個歷史時段。我會說巴黎﹐科雷特過世的那個禮拜...... 1954年﹐八月三日的巴黎。幾天後﹐在她的國葬上﹐千百朵百合擺在她的墓前﹐我想在那裡﹐走過菩提树的大道﹐來到她在大皇宮二樓的公寓樓下。像她一樣的人生令我感動。她唯一的道德就是自我懷疑﹐這樣的一個作家。(人們說﹐惹內在她死前一兩天拜訪了她﹐什麼都沒偷。啊竊賊的善意...)

“我們有藝術﹐”尼采說﹐“我們永遠不會被真理毀滅。”

prayer in bad weather - Bukowski

...

it's not the fucking and sucking
alone that reaches into a man
and softens him, it's the extras,
it's all the extras.

Tropical of Cancer - Henry Miller

已經完全沒有什麼可以期待的了。這個體認對我來說﹐有非常重大的意義。日復一日﹐年復一年﹐可以說﹐這大半輩子我一直在期待能發生什麼事﹐期待外來的事件來改變我的生活﹐而現在﹐突然之間﹐由於對一切事情的徹底絕望﹐我得到解放﹐感覺好像一個重擔剛從肩膀上卸下來。天快亮的時候﹐我和年輕的印度人分手。走之前﹐我跟他要了幾個法郎﹐找個旅館睡不成問題。走到蒙帕那斯附近﹐我決定要讓自己隨波逐流﹐決不跟命運做任何抵抗﹐不管命運以什麼姿態出現。到目前為止﹐在我身上發生過的事情﹐還沒有任何一件足以摧毀我﹐被摧毀的﹐只是我的妄想。我人還是完好如初﹐世界也一樣完好如初。明天也許會有一場革命﹐一場瘟疫﹐或一場大地震﹔明天也許你就找不到半個人同情你﹐幫助你﹐鼓勵你。對我來說﹐一場巨大的災難似乎已經清清楚楚的擺在眼前﹐我再也不可能像這一刻一樣孤獨。我下定決心﹐絕對不再依附任何東西﹐絕對不再期待任何東西﹐今後我要像動物﹐野獸﹐流浪漢﹐土匪一樣過活。...... 我已經找到了上帝﹐可是他實在不夠看。精神上我是死了﹐肉體上我還活著﹐道德上我無牽無掛。我離開的世界是一個動物園﹐黎明的曙光正照耀著一個新的世界﹐一個叢林世界﹐在這個世界﹐野獸餓了就會伸長利爪﹐仰天長嘯。如果我是土狼﹐那我是一隻瘦又餓的土狼﹕現在我準備上路把自己養胖。

Niccolo Machiavelli, d. 1527

I desire to go to Hell and not to Heaven. In the former I shall enjoy the company of popes, kings and princes, while in the latter are only beggars, monks and apostles.

Charles Bukowski - The Genius Of The Crowd

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average

human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it

and the best at hate are those who preach love

and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god

those who preach peace do not have peace

those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers

beware the knowers

beware those who are always reading books

beware those who either detest poverty

or are proud of it

beware those quick to praise

for they need praise in return

beware those who are quick to censor

they are afraid of what they do not know

beware those who seek constant crowds for

they are nothing alone

beware the average man the average woman

beware their love, their love is average

seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred

there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you

to kill anybody

not wanting solitude

not understanding solitude

they will attempt to destroy anything

that differs from their own

not being able to create art

they will not understand art

they will consider their failure as creators

only as a failure of the world

not being able to love fully

they will believe your love incomplete

and then they will hate you

and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond

like a knife

like a mountain

like a tiger

like hemlock

their finest art

愛之逃 - Bernhard Schilink

他覺得如果自己留下來﹐就得和那女子上床﹐但是他不想。幾年前他突然決定戒煙﹐那種每天不再需要抽上五﹐六十根煙的輕鬆感﹐使他重新思考什麼是非必須品的問題﹐接下來放棄喝酒﹐然後愛情﹐然後食物 - 再來該輪到他的肉身成為非必須品﹐在他看來似乎是容易又自然的步驟。當初他穿上道袍出發時﹐戒掉了喝酒的習慣﹐並且體驗到不再每晚喝光一瓶紅酒的輕鬆感。開始過一個穿上道袍、力行獨身男人的生活時﹐他也接著進行下一步﹐吃飯對他而言反正已經越來越無所謂了。

Cahit Sitki Taranci 火車

去什麼地方呢？這麼晚了，
美麗的火車，孤獨的火車？
淒苦是你汽笛的聲音，
令人記起了許多事情。

為什麼我不該揮動手巾呢？
乘客多少都跟我有親。
去吧，但願你一路平安，
橋都堅固，隧道都光明。

遠方的鼓聲 - Haruki Murakami

我所住的公寓還算寬敞﹐以帕勒摩來說算是舒服好住的地方﹐然而一整天車輛噪音還是很嚴重﹐頭都有點痛起來。尤其半夜更嚴重。巡邏警車或救護車發出叭咘叭咘的聲音在路上疾駛。機車經常嘰咿咿咿地緊急剎車。車上裝的防盜器遇到什麼狀況就發出嗶-嗶-嗶-嗶大音量的聲響。被雙排停車出不來的車子主人則叭----、叭----------﹐按兩百次左右的喇叭。這種情況大多一直延續到半夜三點為止。從靜悄悄的米克諾斯忽然來到這樣的地方﹐簡直是地獄。杜斯妥也夫斯基雖然暗示過有別種內省性的地獄村子﹐但對我來說﹐這種程度的地獄就已經很夠受了。

在西西里印象最深刻的事﹐再怎麼說還是吃的東西。話雖然如此﹐但在米其林旅遊書上所記載的有星號的餐廳倒不見得特別美味。我也試著去了幾家那樣的餐廳﹐很多卻讓我不敢苟同(米其林傾向於比較會推薦菜無懈可擊的店﹐我覺得在這層意義上好像無法對意大利菜的美好價值和勁道給予適當評價)。說起來﹐我覺得在西西里﹐與其無懈可擊的菜﹐不如“會出差錯的菜”還比較美味。就像歌劇一樣﹐雖然多少粗曠一些﹐但還是有氣勢的應該會比較適合西西里這裡的風土。在這層意義上﹐心血來潮地隨意走進街上的一家餐廳﹐好像還很能遇到讓你欣賞的好菜。當然有時也會吃到很糟糕的。

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寫長篇小說﹐我想對我來說是一件非常特殊的行為。不管在任何意義上﹐都不能成為日常行為。如果要勉強舉例的話﹐就像是一個人獨自走進深深的森林裡去一樣。既沒帶地圖﹐也沒有羅盤﹐連食物都沒帶。樹木像牆壁般密生著﹐巨大的枝幹重重疊疊遮蔽了天空。裡頭到底生息著怎麼樣的動物﹐我也不清楚。

因此在寫長篇小說時﹐我每次都在腦子裡某個地方想著死這件事。

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如果把這包著金箔扭曲變形的疑似階級社會叫做雅痞社會的話﹐或許日本社會現在正在確實在追求這樣的方向。在某一本雜誌裡的某一個女孩這樣說。我只想和開BMW700系列的男孩子約會﹐500或300系列的太窮我討厭。剛開始﹐我還以為那只是俏皮的玩笑。或是某種隱藏著雙重意思的複雜訊息。但那既不是玩笑也不是訊息。而是真正不假的本意。她們是認真坦白這樣說的。我想說﹐喂﹐那只不過是車子啊﹐只要方向盤一個偏差﹐就會撞上電線桿變成一堆廢物的東西而已。不過對她們來說那不是什麼東西。那是可以明確定位(pinpoint)出她們存在位置的重要共同幻想。

我當然不能笑這個。我往後還必須在這塊土地上﹐揹負著身為一個作家﹐身為一個人的責任繼續活下去。那是首要問題。而我連自己在這裡有什麼發言資格都還無法判斷。我連該笑什麼都還不知道。

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有些喜悅是唯有精疲力竭之後才能夠獲得的。這是我繼續旅行所得到的真理。