<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409</id><updated>2012-01-29T07:34:10.183-08:00</updated><category term='Song'/><category term='Poetry'/><category term='People'/><category term='Book'/><category term='Cinema'/><category term='my Cœur'/><category term='Dream'/><category term='Word'/><category term='Voyage'/><category term='Drama'/><title type='text'>Yes, Dear?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>478</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4554706470451167120</id><published>2012-01-29T07:33:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T07:34:10.299-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Like Life - Lorrie Moore</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Joy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world was lovely, really, but it was tricky, and peevish with the small things, like a god who didn't get out much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;You are Ugly, Too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her students were by and large good Midwesterners, spacey with estrogen from large quantities of meat and cheese.  They shared their parents' suburban values; their parents had given them things, things, things.  They were complacent.  They had been purchased.  they were armed with a healthy vagueness about anything historical or geographic.  They seemed actually to know very little about anything, but they were extremely good-natured about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had to learn not to be afraid of a man, the way, in your childhood, you learned not to be afraid of an earthworm or a bug.  Often, when she spoke to men at parties, she rushed things in her mind.  As the man politely blathered on, she would fall in love, marry, then find herself in a bitter custody battle with him for the kids and hoping for a reconciliation, so that despite all his betrayals she might no longer despise him, and in the few minutes remaining, learn, perhaps, what his last name was and what he did for a living, though probably there was already too much history between them.  She would nod, blush, turn away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've just gotten out of a marriage that was full of bad dialogue."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"this friend of mine was this award-winning violinist.  She traveled all over Europe and won competitions; she made records, she gave concerts, she got famous.  But she had no social life.  So one day she threw herself at the feet of this conductor she had a terrible crush on.  He picked her up, scolded her gently, and sent her back to her hotel room.  After that she came home from Europe.  She went back to her old hometown, stopped playing the violin, and took up with a local boy.  This was in Illinois.  He took her to some Big Ten bar every night to drink with his buddies from the team.  He used to say things like "Katrina here likes to play the violin," and then he'd pinch her cheek.  When she once suggested that they go home, he said, 'What, you think you're too famous for a place like this?  Well, let me tell you something.  You may think you're famous, but you're not&lt;i&gt; famous&lt;/i&gt; famous.' Two famouses. 'No one here's ever heard of you.'  Then he went up and bought a round of drinks for everyone but her.  She got her coat, went home, and shot a gun thought her head."&lt;br /&gt;Earl was silent.&lt;br /&gt;"That's the end of my love story," Said Zoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Places To Look For Your Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess I'm not the right sort of person for him," he said. "I'm not a friendly man by nature.  That's what he needs." Hane took off his glasses and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt.&lt;br /&gt;"You're a stack of apologies," said Millie, kissing him on the cheek.  "Here.  Squash this can."  She bent over and put a rinsed and label-less can near his shoe.  Hane lifted his foot and came down on it with a bang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;The Jewish Hunter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a poem about marriage.  It began, &lt;i&gt;Marriage is the death you want to die&lt;/i&gt;, and in front of audiences she never read it with much conviction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it would be like going to heaven and not finding any of your friends there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Like Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for the pleasure of Rudy bringing her coffee - the  gift of it - she hated this place.  But you could live with a hate.  She had.  It was so powerful, it had manners; it moved to one side most of the time to let you pass.  It was mere dislike that clouded and nagged and stepped in front of your spirit, like a child wanting something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4554706470451167120?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4554706470451167120/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4554706470451167120' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4554706470451167120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4554706470451167120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2012/01/like-life-lorrie-moore.html' title='Like Life - Lorrie Moore'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6163551062361817367</id><published>2012-01-25T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T21:28:02.063-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>The Mandarins - Simone de Beauvoir</title><content type='html'>In a way, literature is true than life,” he said to himself. “On paper, you say exactly and completely what you feel. How easy it is to break things off on paper! You hate, you shout, you kill, you commit suicide; you carry things to the very end. And that’s why it’s false. But it’s damned satisfying. In life, you’re constantly denying yourself, and others are always contradicting you. On paper, I make time stand still and I impose my convictions on the whole world; they become the only reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6163551062361817367?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6163551062361817367/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6163551062361817367' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6163551062361817367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6163551062361817367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2012/01/mandarins-simone-de-beauvoir.html' title='The Mandarins - Simone de Beauvoir'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-481490634126963946</id><published>2012-01-17T10:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T15:58:16.111-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>木星凌月</title><content type='html'>“不夠。”&lt;br /&gt;“什麼？”&lt;br /&gt;“不夠。”&lt;br /&gt;“什麼？”&lt;br /&gt;“你不夠愛我。”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她不應該說的。連愛那個字都還沒說完她已經看見他厭煩的臉，真的，瑪莉，真的，你和我開玩笑嗎？現在是說這個的時候嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她看著他避開她的臉，像有人捏住了他雙眼中間。他一邊保持厭煩神情一邊假裝自己在細閱菜單 － 會有什麼，湯、沙拉、肉沙拉、魚沙拉、羊肉、牛肉、魚、布丁 － 還有什麼？質問、假裝、逃避、證據、激怒、爭吵、哭泣、離席。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“你們準備好了嗎？”&lt;br /&gt;“我好了，瑪莉，你好了嗎？”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她看著他沒有說話。他一定覺得我要瘋了。她想。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“好，她不說話。”他回到菜單上，他還在假裝。“給我一個沙拉，還有......”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他會問：今天的魚怎麼樣。她想。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“...... 今天的魚怎麼樣？”&lt;br /&gt;“很新鮮，剛從... 運來的。”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;把菜單合起，露出樂觀堅定的表情。“很好，就要個魚吧。”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“那... 小姐要什麼？”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他們都在看她。她看著他。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“就給小姐和我一樣的吧。”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;侍者鬆口氣，走了。他再次把眼神避開，假裝喝了口水。他真喝了口水，但他還是在假裝，假裝一切都與他無關。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她決定自己不要叫瑪莉了，她決定把文章的她都換成他，他會叫約翰，約翰不識相地在公眾場合和情人攤牌，約翰再也演不下去了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;真的，約翰，真的，你和我開玩笑嗎？現在是說這個的時候嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“你瘋了，約翰。”&lt;br /&gt;“...... 你在說什麼？”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你真的瘋了，約翰。你如果不是瘋了你就不會把自己名字換成約翰。你如果不是瘋了你就不會以為自己真的可以坐在他面前保持禮貌冷靜，在你看到那些對話後還要保持冷靜。如果你不是瘋了就不會以為他真的變了，然後你還坐在這裡，不是嗎？約翰？瑪莉？&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-481490634126963946?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/481490634126963946/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=481490634126963946' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/481490634126963946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/481490634126963946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html' title='木星凌月'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2626065087100668229</id><published>2011-12-31T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T09:01:32.534-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Self-help - Lorrie Moore</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;How to Be an Other Woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love drains from you, takes with it much of your blood sugar and water weight. &amp;nbsp;You are like a house slowly losing its electricity, the fans slowing, the lights dimming and flickering; the clocks stop and go and stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;What is Seized&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another morning, I heard my parents up early in the bathroom, my dad shaving, getting ready to leave for school. &lt;br /&gt;"Look," he sighed in a loud whisper. &amp;nbsp;"I really can't say that I'll never leave you and the kids or that I'll never make love to another woman -"&lt;br /&gt;"Why not?" asked my mother. &amp;nbsp;"Why can't you say that?" &amp;nbsp;Even her anger was gentle, ingenuous.&lt;br /&gt;"Because I don't feel that way."&lt;br /&gt;"But... can't you just say it anyway?"&lt;br /&gt;At this I like to imagine that my parents met each other's gaze in the medicine cabinet mirror, suddenly grinning. &amp;nbsp;But later in the hospital bed, holding my hand and touching each of my nails slowly with her index finger, my mother said to me, "Your father. &amp;nbsp;He was in a dance. &amp;nbsp;And he just couldn't dance." &amp;nbsp;Earlier that year she had written me: "That is what is wrong with cold people. &amp;nbsp;Not that they have ice in their souls - we all have a bit of that - but that they insist their every word and deed mirror that ice. &amp;nbsp;They never learn the beauty or value of gesture. &amp;nbsp;The emotional necessity. &amp;nbsp;For them, it is all honest before kindness, truth before art. &amp;nbsp;Love is art, not truth. &amp;nbsp;It's like painting scenery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness lives alone and far off down the road, but bitterness and art are close, gossipy&amp;nbsp;neighbors, sharing the same clothesline, hanging out their things, getting their laundry confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;How&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet from time to time you will gaze at his face or his hands and want nothing but him. &amp;nbsp;You will feel passing waves of dependency, devotion, and sentimentality. &amp;nbsp;A week, a month, a year, and he has become your family. &amp;nbsp;Let's say your real mother is a witch. &amp;nbsp;Your father a warlock. &amp;nbsp;Your brothers twin&amp;nbsp;hunchbacks&amp;nbsp;of Notre Dame. &amp;nbsp;They all live in a cave together somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;How to talk to your mother (Note)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You confuse lovers, mix up who had what scar, what car, what mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a party when a woman tells you where she bought some wonderful pair of shoes, say that you believe shopping for clothes is like masturbation - everyone does it, but it isn't very interesting and therefore should be done alone, in an embarrassed fashion, and never be the topic of party conversation. The woman will tighten her lips and eyebrows and say, "Oh, I suppose you have something more fascinating to talk about." Grow clumsy and uneasy. Say, "No," and head for the ginger ale. Tell the person next to you that your inside feel sort of sinking and vinyl like a Claes Oldenburg toilet. They will say, "Oh?" and point out that the print on your dress is one of paisleys impregnating paisleys. Pour yourself more ginger ale.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2626065087100668229?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2626065087100668229/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2626065087100668229' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2626065087100668229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2626065087100668229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2012/01/self-help-lorrie-moore.html' title='Self-help - Lorrie Moore'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-270867797558992014</id><published>2011-12-06T15:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T17:40:17.183-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? - Jeanette Winterson</title><content type='html'>She filled the phone box. &amp;nbsp;She was out of scale, larger than life. &amp;nbsp;She was like a fairy story where size is approximate and unstable. &amp;nbsp;She loomed up. &amp;nbsp;She expanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things that we can't say, because they are too painful. &amp;nbsp;We hope that the things we can say will soothe the rest, or appease it in some way. &amp;nbsp;Stories are compensatory. &amp;nbsp;The world is unfair, unjust, unknowable, out of control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we tell a story we exercise control, but in such a way as to leave a gap, an opening. &amp;nbsp;It is a version, but never the final one. &amp;nbsp;And perhaps we hope that the silences will be heard by someone else, and the story can continue, can be retold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we write we offer the silence as much as the story. &amp;nbsp;Words are the part of silence that can be spoken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Pursuing happiness, and I did, and I still do, is not at all the same as being happy - which I think is fleeting, dependent on circumstances, and a bit bovine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the sun is shining, stand in it - yes, yes, yes. &amp;nbsp;Happy time are great, but happy times pass - they have to - because time passes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pursuit of happiness is more elusive; it is life-long, and it is not goal-centred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you are pursuing is meaning - a meaningful life. &amp;nbsp;there's the hap - the fate, the draw that is yours, and it isn't fixed, but changing the couse of the stream, or dealing new cards, whatever metaphor you want to use - that's going to take a lot of energy. &amp;nbsp;There are times when it will go so wrong that you will barely be alive, and times when you realise that being barely alive, on your own terms is better than living a bloated half-life on someone else's terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pursuit isn't all or nothing - it's all AND nothing. &amp;nbsp;Like all Quest Stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;And here is the shock - when you risk it, when you do the right thing, when you arrive at the borders of commonsense and cross into unknown territory, leaving behind you all the familiar smells and lights, then you do not experience great joy and huge energy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are unhappy. &amp;nbsp;Things get worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a time of mourning. &amp;nbsp;Loss. &amp;nbsp;Fear. &amp;nbsp;We bullet ourselves through with questions. &amp;nbsp;And then we feel shot and wounded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then all the cowards come out and say, 'See, I told you so.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, they told you nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the past is another country, but one that we can visit, and once there we can bring back the things we need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;At that moment a rival group of carol singers arrived at the front door - probably the Salvation Army, but Mrs W was having none of it. &amp;nbsp;She opened the front door and shouted, 'Jesus is here. &amp;nbsp;Go away.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'That was a bit harsh, Mum.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I have had a lot to put up with," she said, looking meaningfully at me. 'I know the Bible tells us to turn the other cheek but there are only so many cheeks in a day.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about suicide because it had to be an option. &amp;nbsp;I had to be able to think about it and on good days I did so because it gave me back a sense of control - for one last time I would be in control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Our madness-measure is always changing. &amp;nbsp;Probably we are less tolerant of madness now than at any period in history. &amp;nbsp;There is no place for it. &amp;nbsp;Crucially, there is no time for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going mad takes time. &amp;nbsp; Getting sane takes time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;And I have loved most extravagantly where my love could not be returned in any sane and steady way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;But I did not know how to love. &amp;nbsp;If I could have faced that simple fact about myself, and the likelihood that someone with my story (my stories, both real and invented) would have big problems with love, then, then, what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, we are human beings. &amp;nbsp;Listen, we are inclined to love. &amp;nbsp;Love is there, but we need to be taught how. &amp;nbsp;we want to stand upright, we want to walk, but someone needs to hold our hand and balance us a bit, and guide us a bit, and scoop us up when we fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen, we fall. &amp;nbsp;Love is there but we have to learn it - and its shapes and its possibilities. &amp;nbsp;I taught myself to stand on my own two feet, but I could not teach myself how to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a capacity for language. &amp;nbsp;We have a capacity for love. &amp;nbsp;We need other people to release those capacities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my work I found a way to talk about love - and that was real. &amp;nbsp;I had not found a way to love. &amp;nbsp; That was changing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;'The things that I regret in my life are not&amp;nbsp;errors&amp;nbsp;of judgement but failures of feelings."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Happy endings are only a pause. &amp;nbsp;There are three kinds of big endings: Revenge. &amp;nbsp;Tragedy. &amp;nbsp;Forgiveness. &amp;nbsp;Revenge and Tragedy often happen together. &amp;nbsp;Forgiveness redeems the past. &amp;nbsp;Forgiveness unblocks the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-270867797558992014?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/270867797558992014/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=270867797558992014' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/270867797558992014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/270867797558992014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/12/why-be-happy-when-you-could-be-normal.html' title='Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? - Jeanette Winterson'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2948813497619977394</id><published>2011-12-02T15:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T15:33:21.352-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>The Sense of an Ending - Julian Barnes</title><content type='html'>I remember &amp;nbsp;a period in late adolescence when my mind would make itself drunk with images of adventurousness. &amp;nbsp;This is how it will be when I grow up. &amp;nbsp;I shall go there, do this, discover that, love her, and then her and her and her. &amp;nbsp;I shall live as people in novels live and have lived. &amp;nbsp;Which ones I was not sure, only that passion and danger, ecstasy and despair (but then more ecstasy) would be in attendance. &amp;nbsp;However... who said that thing about 'the littleness of life that art exaggerates'? &amp;nbsp;There was a moment in my late twenties when I admitted that my adventurousness had long since petered out. &amp;nbsp;I would never do those things adolescence had dreamt about. &amp;nbsp;Instead, I mowed my lawn, I took holidays, I had my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I wanted to do something normal, or at least pretend that something was normal even if it wasn't. When you're young - when I was young - you want your emotions to be like the ones you read about in books. &amp;nbsp;You want them to overturn your life, create and define a new reality. &amp;nbsp;Later, I think, you want them to do something milder, something more practical: you want them to support your life as it is and has become. &amp;nbsp;You want them to tell you that things are OK. &amp;nbsp; And is there anything wrong with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm still bald," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I know of life, I who had lived so carefully? &amp;nbsp;Who had neither won nor lost, but just let life happen to him? &amp;nbsp;Who had the usual ambitions and settled all too quickly for them not being realised? &amp;nbsp;Who avoided being hurt and called it capacity for survival? &amp;nbsp;Who paid his bills, stayed on good terms with everyone as far as possible, for whom ecstasy and despair soon became just words once read in novels? &amp;nbsp;One whose self-rebukes never really inflicted pain? &amp;nbsp;Well, there was all this to reflect upon, while I endured a special kind of remorse: a hurt inflicted at long last on one who always thought he knew how to avoid being hurt - and inflicted for precisely that reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2948813497619977394?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2948813497619977394/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2948813497619977394' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2948813497619977394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2948813497619977394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/12/sense-of-ending-julian-barnes.html' title='The Sense of an Ending - Julian Barnes'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-273497304834750548</id><published>2011-11-29T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T07:16:58.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>認為</title><content type='html'>她看著他的笑臉，她不是不知道事情會怎樣。她想著她該如何對未來的孩子解釋她今日的決定，淡淡的說一句：當時我認為他是愛我的。或是：我認為他當時是愛我的。都是成立的，時態問題可以解決很多問題。她知道她的孩子仍會對她的說法嗤之以鼻，只因他人的錯誤一向愚蠢至極，尤其來自自己的母親。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-273497304834750548?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/273497304834750548/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=273497304834750548' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/273497304834750548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/273497304834750548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/11/blog-post.html' title='認為'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-9016847942573440825</id><published>2011-10-29T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T12:56:56.658-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《第六病房》Chekhov</title><content type='html'>在者，既然死亡是每個人正常而合理的結局，那又何必阻止他們死亡呢？如果一個小商人或文官多活五年或十年，這又有什麼益處呢？如果認為醫學的目標在於用藥品減輕痛苦，那就會引發一個問題：為什麼要減輕痛苦呢？受限，據說痛苦足以使人達到精神完美的境界；第二，人類要是真的學會用藥丸和藥水來減輕痛苦，那就會完全拋棄宗教和哲學，可是到現在為止，人類在宗教和哲學力不但找到了避免一切煩惱的報賬，甚至找到了幸福。普希金臨死以前受到極大的痛苦，可憐的海涅因為癱瘓而臥床好幾年；那麼安德烈或者馬特遼娜之流為什麼就不該生病呢？他們的生活本來就空虛，要是再沒有痛苦，那就會全然空虛，像變形蟲的生活一樣了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;安德烈被這些想法壓倒，心灰意懶，從此不再每天到醫院去了。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-9016847942573440825?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/9016847942573440825/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=9016847942573440825' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/9016847942573440825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/9016847942573440825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/chekhov.html' title='《第六病房》Chekhov'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8679663826781291046</id><published>2011-10-27T12:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T12:49:07.563-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《1973年的彈珠玩具》村上春樹</title><content type='html'>「不寂寞嗎？」&lt;br /&gt;「習慣了啊，訓練出來的。」&lt;br /&gt;「什麼樣的訓練？」&lt;br /&gt;我點上煙，把煙霧向她頭上五十公分的地方吹去。「我是生在一個奇怪的星星下的，也就是說啊，想要的東西不管是什麼都會到手，可是每次得到一樣東西的時候，卻踩到另一樣東西。你懂嗎？」&lt;br /&gt;「有一點。」&lt;br /&gt;「誰都不相信，不過這是真的。三年前我才注意到，而且心裡想再也不要去想得到什麼了。」&lt;br /&gt;她搖搖頭。「因此，你就打算這樣過一輩子嘍？」&lt;br /&gt;「大概吧。這樣就不會給任何人帶來麻煩。」&lt;br /&gt;「如果你真的這樣想，」她說：「那只要活在鞋櫃裡就行了。」&lt;br /&gt;真是高桿的意見。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8679663826781291046?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8679663826781291046/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8679663826781291046' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8679663826781291046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8679663826781291046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/1973.html' title='《1973年的彈珠玩具》村上春樹'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4490614215964985594</id><published>2011-10-27T12:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T12:33:08.278-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《聆聽的國王》Italo Calvino</title><content type='html'>權杖要用右手拿，而且要筆直，如果讓權杖歪了就不好了，而且你也找不到地方放它，在御座旁就連放杯子、煙灰缸、電話的小桌子或層板或小板凳都沒有。御座孤零零地，矗立在高聳的階梯上方，如果有東西掉下去的話就會滾啊滾地再也找不到。要是不小心鬆手就更麻煩了，你得站起來，離開御座去把權杖撿回來，因為除了國王之外沒有人可以碰它，可是國王趴在地上去撿滾到某個傢具下的權杖實在很不好看，還有皇冠也要小心，只要你略一低頭，皇冠就很容易從頭頂掉落滾走。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;你的前臂可以擱在扶手上，這樣太不會累：我說的是右手臂，握權杖的那隻手；至於左手呢，是自由的，可以抓癢，如果你需要的話。有時候貂毛披風會讓脖子覺得癢癢的，然後往下傳到背部，再傳到全身。坐墊的天鵝絨遇到溫度升高，會讓屁股跟大腿覺得刺刺的。你不需要猶豫，可以大剌剌地把手指伸向你覺得癢的地方那鍋，可以解開皮帶的金色環扣，可以拿掉圍脖、勳章、流蘇肩章。你是王，沒有人可以指責你，你已經夠倒楣的了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4490614215964985594?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4490614215964985594/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4490614215964985594' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4490614215964985594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4490614215964985594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/italo-calvino.html' title='《聆聽的國王》Italo Calvino'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6470118606663746453</id><published>2011-10-24T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T13:36:32.351-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《我們最幸福：北韓人民的真實生活》Barbara Demick</title><content type='html'>車站，當人們一文不名無家可歸時就會來此。人們並非完全放棄希望或只是倒在路邊。火車的來去製造了一種目的地的假象，讓人產生能夠對抗命運的希望。人們幻想火車進站帶來吃的東西，或火車出站前往更好的地方，而你可以跳上車一同前往。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6470118606663746453?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6470118606663746453/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6470118606663746453' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6470118606663746453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6470118606663746453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/barbara-demick.html' title='《我們最幸福：北韓人民的真實生活》Barbara Demick'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8510606105509941471</id><published>2011-10-24T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T09:07:13.996-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>廣場</title><content type='html'>我該把彩燈結在誰家的聖誕樹上&lt;br /&gt;哪一個幸福的窗戶&lt;br /&gt;雪&lt;br /&gt;暈黃的燈光&lt;br /&gt;誰有一個幸福的生活&lt;br /&gt;讓我張看&lt;br /&gt;因我的樹著火&lt;br /&gt;我的窗口&lt;br /&gt;已成廢墟&lt;br /&gt;只因我執意尋找&lt;br /&gt;一片不存在的&lt;br /&gt;完美雪花&lt;br /&gt;只因我不能正視生活&lt;br /&gt;若它不是一幅圖畫&lt;br /&gt;只因我沒有建立生活的能力&lt;br /&gt;徘徊在無人的大廣場&lt;br /&gt;一再流浪&lt;br /&gt;等待被收留&lt;br /&gt;和逃亡。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8510606105509941471?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8510606105509941471/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8510606105509941471' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8510606105509941471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8510606105509941471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/blog-post_24.html' title='廣場'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2150738933938084632</id><published>2011-10-22T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T12:46:18.704-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Portrait of an Addict as a Young Man - Bill Clegg</title><content type='html'>All evening I pretend to be tired - yawning and stretching, rubbing my eyes - hoping to encourage people to leave early. &amp;nbsp;I imagine the first hit and the bloom of exquisite calm it will bring and I quietly, invisibly, detest everyone in the apartment for being there. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel next to nothing as I end our partnership, our business, my career. &amp;nbsp;I regard that nothing the same way you observe a cut on your finger just after accidentally slicing it with a knife but seconds before the blood appears. &amp;nbsp;For a moment it's like looking at someone else's finger, as if the cut you made has not broken your skin, the blood about to flow not your own.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave Seth's and walk back to Sixth Avenus, where a throng of people on the corner are all looking south. &amp;nbsp;Something feels off balance and I have a brief flash of vertigo as I follow their gazes downtown to the now bland tumble of buildings there. &amp;nbsp;The towers have fallen. &amp;nbsp;An hour ago they stood there, on fire, billowing with smoke, and now they are gone. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;They were just here&lt;/i&gt;, someone says as I try to locate where exactly in the skyline they used to rise from. &amp;nbsp;But in the cloud of soot and smoke that hangs above the blur of buildings that could be any city now, I can't remember where they once were, what it all looked like. &amp;nbsp;I have already forgotten. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2150738933938084632?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2150738933938084632/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2150738933938084632' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2150738933938084632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2150738933938084632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/portrait-of-addict-as-young-man-bill.html' title='Portrait of an Addict as a Young Man - Bill Clegg'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1286604709672644625</id><published>2011-10-17T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T10:56:59.646-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《伊斯坦堡：一座城市的記憶》Orhan Pamuk</title><content type='html'>四十五歲之前，每當我飄浮在美好的半夢半醒狀態中，我便想像自己殺人， 來使自己快樂。我要向我的親人 － 有些人確實很親，比如我哥哥 － 還有許多政治人物、文藝界名人、商人以及多半虛構的人物表示歉意，他們都在我的受害者名單中。我常犯的罪還有一個：我會對一隻貓極其寵愛，卻又在絕望之時狠狠揍牠，大笑一陣擺脫絕望後，我又為此羞愧不已，便賜予這隻可憐的貓更多愛。二十五年後的某天下午，當時正在服兵役的我看著一整連的人吃過午飯後待在福利社裡閒聊或抽煙，審視這七百五十位幾乎一模一樣的軍人，然後想像他們身首分離；就在我隔著福利社充滿藍色薄霧的菸氣，凝視他們血淋淋的食道時，一位軍中同袍開口說：別再晃你的腿了，小子，我累得很，受夠了。&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;早在1580年，蒙田即認為他所謂“憂鬱”的情緒毫無光榮可言。（儘管知道自己是憂鬱患者，他仍用這個詞；多年後，同樣被診斷有憂鬱症的福婁拜亦這麼做。）蒙田認為“憂鬱”是獨立自主的理性主義和個人主義的敵人。按照他的觀點，“憂鬱”不配跟智慧、美德、道德等高尚品德並列在一起，他亦贊成義大利人把“憂鬱”跟萬惡之源的各種瘋狂和傷害聯繫在一起。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;蒙田本身的憂愁如服喪般孤單，咬噬著這個與書獨處的男人內心。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我在學校學到的第一件事是，有些人是白癡；第二件則是有些人比白癡更糟。我年紀太小，未能理解有教養的人應當對這種根本差距視而不見，同樣的禮數亦適用於宗教、種族、性別、階級、經濟和（近來的）文化差異可能引發的懸殊差別。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我有若干方法，不讓這些小災難擾亂我的心緒。我為自己建立嚴格的迷信制度（比方不踩裂紋、絕不一路關上某幾扇門），或迅速從事一場毛線（跟另一個奧罕見面、逃往我的第二個世界、畫畫、跟哥哥尋釁大家而落入自己的災難）。或者數著博斯普魯斯的過往船隻。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1286604709672644625?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1286604709672644625/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1286604709672644625' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1286604709672644625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1286604709672644625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/orhan-pamuk.html' title='《伊斯坦堡：一座城市的記憶》Orhan Pamuk'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6275294662788217370</id><published>2011-10-06T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T10:36:23.755-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《日安 午夜》Jean Rhys</title><content type='html'>“你不懂得怎麼做愛，”他說。那是我們到巴黎的一個月後。“你太被動，太懶惰，你讓我無聊。我受夠了。再見。”&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;他走出去，留下我一個人 － 那天晚上和隔天，另一個晚上和另一天。桌上放著二十法郎。我確定我懷孕了，雖然我一個字都沒說。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我得出去給自己買點東西吃。房東知道，房東太太知道，每個人都知道...... 醒在半夜，聆聽，等待......&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;第三天我確定他不會回來。憂鬱的天。我第一次看著房東太太，而不是低著眼和她擦身而過。她問起先生的事。先生會離開一陣子。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;藍天掛在街上，房子們，酒吧們，咖啡館，賣蔬菜的小店和蒙馬特......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我買了牛奶，一條麵包，四個橘子，回到旅館。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;擠壓著橘子，嗅著它發出的香氣。香氣很濃 － 應該很新鮮...... 我想：“然後呢？”但其實我不太在乎然後。正在我這麼想的時候恩諾走了進來，手臂裡夾著一瓶酒。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“哈嘍，”他說。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“我拿到一些錢了，”他說。”老天，怎麼這麼熱？剝個橘子給我。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這時我該說“你自己剝”，我該說“下地獄去吧”，這時我該說“你不能這樣對我”。但一切都太逼人了 － 房間，街道，我內心裡的那些事，太多太多...... 我把剝好的橘子放在盤子上遞給他。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他說；“我拿到一點錢了。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他掏出一張，兩張千元法郎。我沒問他錢的來處。為何要問呢？錢總是來來去去，四處流通 － 怎麼回事呢？何必呢，有時連你也不相信。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他倒杯酒給我。“新鮮的。我沒讓它曬到太陽。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“你的手怎麼這樣冷，”他說。“親愛的......”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他拉起窗簾，擋住陽光。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;當他吻我眼臉喚我起床，已是晚上。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;但那並不重要。不是因為他永遠知道何時該殘忍，何時該仁慈。我確定我愛他的那天與這些都無關。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;那時，他出去給我們買些吃的。我在窗簾後看見街上的他，站在路燈旁找尋我們的窗，找尋我。他看上去很瘦，很小，我清楚看見他臉上的表情。他，很焦急......&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他把酒夾在手臂下，大衣翹了一角，底下藏了一條麵包。房東太太不喜歡我們在房裡吃東西。偶一為之還好，但若有人每天都在家裡吃飯，代表他們一貧如洗。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;看著他望著上方尋找的神情，我知道我愛他，永遠。彷彿我的心被翻了過來，而我知道永遠都會這樣。當你確信有些事情將會永遠，那感覺很奇怪。就像死亡。所有的不在乎，所有的歡樂都是偽裝。為了離開倫敦，我將自己和他綑在一起，拖累了他。如今所有的歡樂都失去了，他這樣瘦，這樣焦急......&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我沒向他揮手。我在窗簾後看著他，於是他越過馬路，走進旅館。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“我睡不著，” 他說。“讓我把頭放在你銀白的胸脯上。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6275294662788217370?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6275294662788217370/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6275294662788217370' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6275294662788217370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6275294662788217370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/jean-rhys.html' title='《日安 午夜》Jean Rhys'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1625074445734337369</id><published>2011-10-02T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T10:21:48.033-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>世界末日與冷酷異境</title><content type='html'>“對。你可以和她睡覺，也可以跟她一起生活。在這個街裡，你可以得到你想要的東西。”&lt;br /&gt;“但那裡沒有所謂的心存在是嗎？”&lt;br /&gt;“沒有心。”老人說。“不過你的心終究也會消失。心消失之後既沒有喪失感，也沒有失望。無處可去的愛也會消失。只留下生活。只留下平靜而悄然的生活。你可能喜歡她，她也可能喜歡你。如果你希望的話，那就是你的。誰都沒辦法奪走這個。”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;也許是吧。我想。誰也沒有認真擁抱我的身體。我也沒有認真擁抱什麼人的身體。我就這樣逐漸老去。像貼在海底礁岩上的海參一樣，我孤伶伶地繼續老下去。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我沒辦法捨棄心，我想。不管那是多麼沈重，有時又是多麼黑暗， 但有時它會像鳥一樣在空中飛舞，也可以看得見永遠。連這小小的手風琴的聲音裡，我都可以讓我的心鑽進裡面去。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我想放聲大哭，但不能哭。流淚對我來說年紀已經太大，而且也經驗過太多事情。世界上有不能流淚的哀傷存在。那是對誰也無法說明的，就算能夠說明，誰也不會理解的那種東西。那哀傷既不能改變成任何形式，只能像無風之夜的雪那樣靜靜地逐漸積在心裡而已。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;更年輕的時候，我曾經嘗試把那哀傷想辦法改變成語言。但不管怎麼用盡語言，都無法把它傳達給誰，我想甚至無法傳達給自己本身，我終於放棄這樣做。於是我關閉我的語言，關閉我的心，深沈的悲哀是連眼淚這形式都無法採取的東西。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1625074445734337369?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1625074445734337369/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1625074445734337369' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1625074445734337369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1625074445734337369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/blog-post_02.html' title='世界末日與冷酷異境'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5953298624616899438</id><published>2011-10-01T16:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T16:22:48.206-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>聽風的歌</title><content type='html'>我的事情你根本不用在意，如果你還是要介意的話，可以到公園去撒豆豆給鴿子吃啊。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5953298624616899438?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5953298624616899438/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5953298624616899438' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5953298624616899438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5953298624616899438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/blog-post.html' title='聽風的歌'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4980346934399694110</id><published>2011-10-01T16:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T13:38:20.624-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drama'/><title type='text'>August Strindberg</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;Miss Julie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;MISS JULIE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Perhaps. &amp;nbsp;But then so are you. - Besides, everything's strange. &amp;nbsp;Life, people, everything's a scum that ddrifts, drifts on across the water, until it sinks, sinks. &amp;nbsp;there's a dream I have from time to time; I'm reminded of it now. -I'm sitting on top of a pillar that I've climbed, and can see no way of getting down; when I look down, I get dizzy, but down I must, though I haven't the courage to jump; I cana'at stay where I am and I long to fall; but I don't; and yet I'll get no peace until I come down, no rest until I come down, down to the ground, and were I to reach the ground I'd want to bury myself in the earth... Have you ever felt anything like that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;JEAN&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;No! &amp;nbsp;I usually dream I'm lying under a tall tree in a dark wood. &amp;nbsp;I want to climb up, up to the top, and look around over the bright landscape where the sun is shining, plunder the bird's nest up there where the gold eggs lie. &amp;nbsp;I climb and climb, but the trunk is so thick, and so slippery, and it's so far to the first branch. &amp;nbsp;But I know that if I could only reach that first branch I'd get to the top like on a ladder. &amp;nbsp;I haven't reached it yet, but I will do one day, even if it's just a dream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;The Dance of Death&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;CAPTAIN&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The bride had to wear her wedding ring on her right hand because in a tender moment the bridegroom had cut off her ring finger with a billhook. &amp;nbsp;Are you crying? - No, I believe you're laughing! - Yes, child, we laugh and we cry! &amp;nbsp;Which is more proper? Don't ask me! --- The other day I read in the paper that a man had been divorced seven times, consequently he'd married seven times as well... Finally, at the age of ninety, he ran off and remarried his first wife. &amp;nbsp;There's love for you! --- I've never been able to figure out whether life is serious or just a joke. &amp;nbsp;When it's a joke it can be most painful, when it's serious it can be quite tranquil and pleasant. --- and then, when you finally take it seriously, along comes someone and makes a fool of you. &amp;nbsp;Like Kurt. --- Do you want to celebrate our silver wedding? &amp;nbsp;Say yes now. - They'll laugh at us, but what does that matter? &amp;nbsp;We'll laugh, too. &amp;nbsp;Or be serious, whichever seems best!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;A Dream Play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Law, which serves everyone, except the servants, justice that destroys itself in seeking to be just.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HUSBAND&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Because in the midst of happiness there is always a seed of unhappiness; it consumes itself like fire - it can't burn forever, sooner or later it must die; and this presentiment of the end destroys my happiness when it is at its height.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;WIFE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Then let us die together, now, at once!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HUSBAND&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Die? &amp;nbsp;Very well! &amp;nbsp;For I'm afraid of happiness. &amp;nbsp;It's deceitful!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4980346934399694110?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4980346934399694110/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4980346934399694110' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4980346934399694110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4980346934399694110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/10/august-strindberg.html' title='August Strindberg'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1345377772720066102</id><published>2011-09-22T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T15:31:12.017-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>How Pleasure Works - Paul Bloom</title><content type='html'>The main argument here is that pleasure is deep. &amp;nbsp;What matters most is not the world as it appears to our senses. &amp;nbsp;Rather, the enjoyment we get from something derives from what we think that thing is. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A snob is someone who applies an inappropriate standard. &amp;nbsp;A social snob is someone whose choice of friends is guided by their status, not their deeper qualities. &amp;nbsp;Koestler tells us about a sexual snob, a young woman from Berlin, in the days before Hitler, who would have sex with any author, male or female, as long as his or her books had sold more than 20,000 copies. &amp;nbsp;Koestler finds this ridiculous: "the Kama Sutra and the best-seller list were hopelessly mixed up in her mind." &amp;nbsp;For him, Catherine is an art snob. &amp;nbsp;She gets pleasure not from the artwork itself, but from knowing who created it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ian McEwan takes this universality claim further, proposing that you can find all the themes of the English nineteenth-century novel in the lives of pygmy chimpanzees: "alliances made and broken, individuals rising while others fall, plots hatched, revenge, gratitude, injured pride, successful and unsuccessful courtship, bereavement and mourning."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1345377772720066102?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1345377772720066102/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1345377772720066102' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1345377772720066102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1345377772720066102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/09/how-pleasure-works-paul-bloom.html' title='How Pleasure Works - Paul Bloom'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4346046469775515565</id><published>2011-09-11T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T11:15:09.037-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《邊境國》Tonu Onnepalu</title><content type='html'>但事實上，我不知道我是否想說這個故事；我想我寧可聽別人的故事。 對，我想要的，是一個永遠不會被打斷的聲音，無止無休地傾訴，向我訴說它的故事，讓我平靜下來，讓我入眠，讓我能從自身中得到休息；一個神聖或是醜惡的聲音，都可以，只要它不住嘴，無窮盡地說下去就好！&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我說話，是為了填滿寂靜。世上的寂靜令我恐懼，因此我開口說話，擔負起為這世界填滿空洞的角色。我忍受不了空寂，沒有人忍受得了，我肯定，不管他們怎麼說。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;無論如何，那一定是荷蘭。景色之醜令我癡迷。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;對那些錯過了大探險的人而言，還剩下什麼呢？只有苦澀的悔恨，為了再也無法獵殺土著或是大象、洗劫寺院、焚燒城市...... 。這沈默卻蝕人的苦澀，日復一日將他們推向犯罪。他們就像夢遊者一樣。他們也坐在自己的屋子面前喝著啤酒，或是打著領帶進辦公室，或是喝他們的孩子在公園裡散步。但要是你突然叫住他們，一切急轉直下：他們會掏出手槍，投出炸彈！&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;沒錯，我感到一個嶄新的生活即將開始，彷彿出發在即（當然，一旦我們抵達目的地，就會發現一切都和其它地方完全一樣）。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;事情就在這時候發生了：坐在隔壁桌的男人將身子倚了過來，問我：“你願意為我笑一下嗎？”我聳了聳肩，朝他笑了笑，為什麼不呢？你注意到了嗎，安傑洛，人們都是這個樣子：你不快樂時，他們躲你像躲隻瘋狗一樣 － 那是會傳染的！但當你感到快樂而不需要任何人的時候，他們便繞著你身邊轉，像是在蜜壺旁邊的蒼蠅，像是水蛭一樣！&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;不，這個法國男子一點也不像水蛭；他算是討人喜歡。穿著芥末黃的外套，鱷魚牌眼鏡，深情像是一隻被揍過的狗：你明白的，那種一目了然的傷口，太陽眼鏡或是昂貴的衣服都掩蓋不了。他經歷過某些事。某個東西，某天，在他裡面碎了，而現在他問我是否能坐到這桌來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;唉，我幹嘛一頭栽進人類的世界呢？我應該要待在那屬於我的地方，在植物的王國裡，在東歐，在兒時令人窒息的公寓裡，在祖母那長滿了萬年青的窗邊。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;一旦人類和他們的意願都投身於遊戲時，便只會產生憂傷與苦難。我之所以會有和法蘭茲的這段關係，是因為我想要知道做個人是怎麼一回事，怎樣算活得像個人。這就是我犯的錯，可怕、不可原諒的錯：我和別人進場開始遊戲，卻玩得很被動，一點也不當真。看看現在成了什麼樣！我的祖母有時候看我這麼無能會惱怒發火：“老天！這廢物長大了肯定不是什麼好貨！”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我確實不是。什麼都給祖母說對了。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4346046469775515565?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4346046469775515565/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4346046469775515565' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4346046469775515565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4346046469775515565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/09/tonu-onnepalu.html' title='《邊境國》Tonu Onnepalu'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7394227609740631325</id><published>2011-09-08T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T11:57:40.607-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《遠方的鼓聲》Haruki Murakami</title><content type='html'>地中海的章魚相當不錯。章魚剛買回來時還很硬，所以先吊在屋頂下晾乾。這樣第二天就會軟化得很好吃。希臘人都是這樣吃章魚的。漁夫一捕獲章魚就活生生地抓緊牠的腳往水泥地上劈裡啪啦地摔打把牠先打軟。要是身為章魚的話實在受不了，不過世界就是這樣成立的也沒辦法。&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;希臘人很重視家族，家人的幸福就是自己的幸福。雖然窮，只要大家都健康，就等於很幸福了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;起初他問我：春樹，你有孩子嗎？我回答沒有時，他臉上就一副非常傷腦筋非常悲傷的表情。對他們來說沒有小孩是一件非常難過不幸的事。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;還有不斷的噪音。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;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叭咘叭咘的聲音在街上疾駛。汽車經常嘰咿咿咿地緊急煞車。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存在，但對我來說，這種程度的地獄就已經很夠受的了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;塔維爾那有三個德國觀光客，臉一面迎著相當冷的風一面對著薄日做日光浴（如果那也可以稱為日光浴的話）。德國人有各種特殊的能力。其中之一就是任何東西吃起來都很好吃的能力，另外一個就是任何季節都能做日光浴的能力。我們跟他們交換了一個同為觀光淡季奇特旅行者之間的簡單招呼。很奇怪，他們好像一點都不無聊的樣子。真是一些怪人。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;世上有各種現實的哲學。仔細看看街上的種種就可以學到一些東西。如果在東京街頭站定下來仔細觀察什麼的話，往往會遭人家白眼，但在羅馬這裡卻不會。很多人經常站定下來一直看著什麼。我太太正在很想要地一直盯住 Max Mara 或 Pollini 的櫥窗時，我則隔著街一直觀察乞丐的樣子。每個人都各有他所謂人生的方向。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;房東玲夫人對羅馬的混亂狀態就徹底厭煩。她是英國人，所以無法忍受這個。她說，我每次快到聖誕節時就絕對不上街。真的噢，Mr. Murakami，那不管誰怎麼說都是渾沌的漩渦中心。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;她對日本人懷有好感，或者正確說，總之只要不是羅馬的東西她都懷有好感。每次遇到我們時她似乎感覺到同樣身為北方國民的一體感，每次每次都深深歎息，對這個 disorganized country 不斷地抱怨。話雖這麼說，因為她先生是拿坡里出生的，所以她抱怨意大利是不是不太合情理呢？我這樣想。因為跟拿坡里出身的人結婚又怨歎世界真混亂，就像跟熊結婚卻抱怨牠毛太多一樣。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;也許你不相信，義大利的車子是有表情的。總之車子也跟車上的駕駛一樣擁有豐富的表情。所以如果一有空停車位時，車子跟駕駛一起，感覺就像人馬一體般，車子本身會咧嘴微笑起來。可是如果那車位因為一指之差被別的車子搶先佔走時，整個車子就會頓然失望落魄。眼光無神垂頭喪氣一副慘敗的表情。這每一種表情一一都非常生動。所以看著也非常愉快。這種地方跟日本車就相當不同。日本車很奇怪沒有所謂的表情。高興也好、難過也好，大多都以一副上市股票企業般的表情跑著。要我說的話，我就不知道 Toyota MarkII 或 Nissan Gloria 或 Mazda Capella 真的是在想什麼跑著的。如果你要說汽車有沒有表情都無所謂的話，確實我也沒話說，可是我看日本的路上停車，一直看著也沒什麼意思。如果你沒事一直盯著看的話，恐怕會被從S級賓士車下來的人毆打也不一定。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;說到賓士車，確實賓士有某種表情。不過我想只有一種表情也是賓士可怕的地方。賓士也絕對不會微笑，Opel 的話則完全是鐵假面。我甚至覺得Opel一面在高速公路奔馳著，是不是一邊在想中國國債的事。我對女人雖然沒什麼偏愛，但總之不會想跟像Opel的女人睡覺。關於這點來說義大利車真偉大。提到有表情，說不定在路邊站定下來抬起一腳來大便的車子，並不是誰都製造得出來的。我喜歡義大利車子的這種地方。性能且不說。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;羅馬這個都市讓來到這裡的人感到厭煩、深受打擊的，不僅是預備了小偷、扒手、吉普賽人、搶匪、順手牽羊的人、詐欺犯、暴力酒吧、故意找錯錢的售貨員。 在那以強奪為目的的大渾沌中，計程車也占了相當大的比重。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7394227609740631325?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7394227609740631325/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7394227609740631325' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7394227609740631325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7394227609740631325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/09/haruki-murakami.html' title='《遠方的鼓聲》Haruki Murakami'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4278876108483280619</id><published>2011-09-01T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T13:36:10.029-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《遺恨傳奇》鍾曉陽</title><content type='html'>人生本來是難以如願的，謹慎、周密，但求無愧於心，並不足以避免無心之間的錯失與毀壞。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;生命中沒有了這個女人又會如何？占有是一件微妙的事情，一旦擁有了一件物事，不管帶來的是多大的苦楚和煩惱，隨之而來的便是種種將它挽留下來的原因。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4278876108483280619?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4278876108483280619/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4278876108483280619' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4278876108483280619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4278876108483280619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/09/blog-post.html' title='《遺恨傳奇》鍾曉陽'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6281772930555415826</id><published>2011-08-29T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T12:04:52.785-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《不朽》Milan Kundera</title><content type='html'>她心裡想：當她有一天醜得使人不能忍受時，她要到花店裡去賣一株勿忘草，只要一株，細細的一莖草上一朵小花，她要把這株草舉在面前走到街上去，眼睛緊盯著它，除了這點藍色的東西以外什麼也看不到，這是她想保留的她已經不愛的世界的最後的形象。她將就這樣走到巴黎街上去，大家很快就會認識她，孩子們會跟在她後面奔跑，嘲弄她、用石子扔她；全巴黎的人都會把她叫做“勿忘草瘋女”......&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;她不能想像她的父親會恨任何人。仇恨的圈套，就因為它把我們和我們的敵手拴的太緊了，這就是戰爭的下流之處：兩個眼睛瞪著眼睛相互刺穿身子的士兵親切地挨在一起，血也流在一起。她完全可以肯定，她父親就是厭惡這種親切；船上的人推推拉拉，擠在一起，使他非常膩味，他寧願淹死拉倒。和這些相互打鬥、踐踏，把對方往死裡推的人肉體接觸，要比獨個兒死在純淨的海水裡更加糟糕。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;對父親的回憶把她從剛才陷進入的仇恨中解脫出來了，慢慢地，那個輕輕拍打自己額頭的男人惡毒的形象在她腦子中消失了； 她突然想到了這麼一句話：我不能恨他們，因為沒有任何東西把我和他們連在一起；我們毫無共同之處。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“你知道，約翰，”海明威說，“我也逃不過他們無窮盡的指責。他們不是看我的書，而是寫關於我的書。就好像我不愛我的前後幾個妻子；我對我的兒子關心不夠；我對某個批評暴跳如雷；我不夠真誠；我目中無人；我是個強壯漢子；我自吹在戰爭中受傷兩百三十處，實際上只有兩百零六處；我有手淫的惡癖；我對母親蠻橫無理。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“這就是不朽，有什麼辦法呢，”歌德說，“不朽是一種永恆的訴訟。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“如果不朽是永恆的訴訟， 那就必須要有一位真正的審判官！而不應該是一個手執撣衣鞭的鄉村女教師。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“鄉村女教師手中的撣衣鞭，這就是永恆的訴訟！您還有什麼其它的想像，Ernest。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“我什麼也不想像。我只希望在我死後可以清靜一些。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“您為了成為不朽已經竭盡全力了。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“廢話！我寫了一些書，就這些。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“就是嘛！”歌德放聲大笑說。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“讓我的書成為不朽，我絕不反對。我這些書寫得別人改不了一個字。我盡我所能讓它們能經受各種考驗。可是作為一個人，作為 Ernest&amp;nbsp;Hemingway，卻對不朽一屑不顧！”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“我理解您，Ernest。可是在您活著的時候本應該更謹慎一些。從今以後，沒有什麼大事情可幹了。“&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“更謹慎些？這是影射我吹牛吧？不錯，在我年輕的時候，我是最受人注目的人物，我嘩眾取寵，我對到處有人談論我感到很得意。可是請相信我，不管我有多麼虛榮，我不是一個魔鬼，我從來未想到過不朽！在我知道不朽在窺探我時，我簡直嚇壞了。我無數次地勸人們別介入我的生活。可是我越勸，情況就越糟。我跑到古巴去避開他們。在授予我諾貝爾獎金時，我拒絕到斯德哥爾摩去。我才不把不朽放在眼裡呢，我對您說；我甚至還可以對您說，在我確切知道它已經把我緊緊摟在懷裡時，我對它的厭惡程度甚至超過了對死亡的厭惡。人可以結束自己的生命但是不能結束自己的不朽。一旦它把您弄到它的船上，您就永遠下不來了，即使您像我一樣開槍打自己的腦袋，您還是留在它的船上，連同您的自殺也一起留下了。這是令人厭惡的，令人非常厭惡。我死了，躺在甲板上，我看到我四個妻子蹲在我的周圍，一面在寫所有他們知道的關於我的事情，在她們身後是我的兒子，他也在寫。還有 Gertrude Stein 這個老巫婆，也在那兒寫；還有我所有的朋友都在那兒講述他們聽到過的有關我的各種流言蜚語；他們身後還擠著一百來個對著話筒的新聞記者；在美國所有的學校裡面，有一大批教授在把所有著一切分門別類，分析，發揮，寫出幾千篇文章和幾百本書。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;俄國特別還存在基督教的多愁善感。俄國沒有受到中世紀經院哲學的唯理論的影響，它沒有經歷文藝復興。建立在笛卡爾主義的批判思想上的現代，要遲一兩個世紀才能趕上它。“感情的人”因此在俄國沒有找到足夠的平衡力量，他在那兒變成了他自身的誇張，通常稱之為“斯拉夫靈魂”。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;俄國和法國是歐洲的兩極，它們彼此之間都有一股永恆的吸引力。法國是一個疲乏的古老國家，感情在法國只能作為形式而繼續存在。作為一封信的結束，一個法國人會給您寫下：“請接受，親愛的先生，我的崇高的感情的保證。”我第一次接到由加里瑪爾出版社的一位女秘書簽名的這樣一封信時，我還住在布拉格。我高興地跳得頭頂到了天花板：在巴黎由一個女人愛上了我！在一封公函的最後幾行裡，她成功地悄悄塞進了一個愛情的表示！不僅僅她對我有了感情，而且她明確地強調指出這感情是崇高的！從來沒有一個捷克女人對我說過像這樣的一句話！&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;過了很久以後，我定居到巴黎，有人向我解釋，用在寫信上的客套話有許許多多，意思相差無幾，可供選擇。一個法國人可以像藥劑師那樣，準確地挑選他希望向收信人表達自己並沒有的感情。在可供挑選的大量客套話中，“崇高的感情”代表了行政客套中的最低登記，幾乎接近於輕視。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;呵！法國！你是形式的國家，正如俄國是感情的國家！就是因為這個緣故，一個法國人被終身剝奪了：感覺任何火焰在自己胸中燃燒的權利，他帶著羨慕和懷舊的心情望著陀斯妥耶夫斯基的國家，在那兒人們把友愛的嘴唇什給別人，並且準備把拒絕抱吻他們的人殺死。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“我感到遺憾的是，幾乎所有今日寫出的小說都過於服從情節整一的規則，我的意思是說，這些小說都建立在情節和事件唯一的因果關係的連接上。這些小說酷似一條狹窄的街道，沿著街道人們用鞭子去追逐人物。戲劇性的緊張是小說的真正的不幸，因為這樣會改變一切，甚至把最優美的篇章、場面和觀察變為導至結局的一個普通階段，結局只不過集中了面前所有情節的含意。小說被本身緊張的情節之火吞噬，像一綑麥草那樣燒光。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6281772930555415826?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6281772930555415826/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6281772930555415826' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6281772930555415826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6281772930555415826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/08/milan-kundera_29.html' title='《不朽》Milan Kundera'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4005992455351674977</id><published>2011-08-23T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T16:30:50.121-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《雨天炎天》Haruki Murakami</title><content type='html'>「不過，畢竟修道院又不是以異教徒愉快地享用西瓜為目的而存在的嘛。」這麼說的確也不無道理。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;在威尼斯的 Torcello 島所見的受難圖，在義大利也是以殘酷的地獄圖著名，但與這些相比，看起來卻有如準天國一般。但不管怎麼樣，看了這些畫，也讓我聯想到自己所受的苦難是否還不夠。文藝批評什麼的，根本就稱不上受難吧，我心想。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;雖然對於宗教並不十分清楚，但對於親切卻是完全明瞭。即使愛已消失也仍保留著親切，這是馮內果所說的話。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4005992455351674977?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4005992455351674977/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4005992455351674977' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4005992455351674977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4005992455351674977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/08/haruki-murakami.html' title='《雨天炎天》Haruki Murakami'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4845606929840914937</id><published>2011-08-23T13:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T16:24:59.324-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《生命中不可承受之輕》Milan Kundera</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;人的生活就像作曲。各人為美感所導引，把一件件偶發事件（貝多芬的音樂，火車下的死亡）轉換為音樂動機，然後，這個動機在各人生活的樂曲中取得一個永恆的位置。安娜可以選擇另一種方式自殺，但死和火車站的動機，與愛的誕生有著不可忘懷的聯繫，並且在她絕望的時刻，以內色的美誘惑著她。人們沒有認識到這一點，即使在最痛苦的時候，各人總是根據美的法則來編織生活。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;對於他們來說，他們能理解的事只是那火焰，他被燒死在火刑柱上時那光輝的火焰，那光榮的灰燼。於是，對於他們來說，身為捷克人的實質意義除了灰燼，再沒有什麼。唯一能使他們聚合在一起的東西，便是他們的失敗與他們的互相指責。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...... 我們知道為什麼。她背叛了她的父親，生活便向她敞開了背叛的漫漫長途。每一個吸引她的背叛是罪惡也是勝利。她不願意遵守秩序； 她拒絕服從秩序 － 拒絕永遠和同樣的人一起講同樣的話！這就是她被自己的不公平所困擾的原因。但這並非心情不悅，恰恰相反，薩賓娜的印象中，這是一次勝利，有看不見的人還在為她熱烈鼓掌。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;自我陶醉一瞬間滑向極度痛苦：漫漫長途總有盡頭！遲早她不得不結束自己的背叛！遲早她不得不結束自己！&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這正是晚上，她匆忙穿過火車站，一列去阿姆斯特丹的火車進站了。她上了車，在站警友好的 指引下，打開包廂的門，發現弗蘭茲坐在臥鋪上。他站起來迎接她，她伸出雙臂抱住了他，吻得他透不過氣來。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;她像最平庸的女人一樣， 有一種焚心烈火般的欲望，像告訴他，別趕我走，抱緊我，把我當你的玩物，你的奴隸，猛烈地玩弄我吧！但她什麼也沒說。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;她從對方的擁抱中鬆脫出來，只說了一句話：「你不知道，我和你在一起是多麼高興啊。這是她的天性允許她做的最多的表示了。」&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;有些事情是只能靠著暴力來完成的。生理上的愛沒有暴力是難以想像的。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... 薩賓娜又開始了孤獨的沈思：如果有一個指揮她的男人又怎麼樣呢？一個要控制她的人嗎？她能容忍他多久？不到五分鐘！從這兒得出結論，無論強者還是弱者，沒有人適合她。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;「為什麼不用你的力量來對付我？」她問。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;「愛就意味著解除強力。」弗蘭茲溫柔地說。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;薩賓娜明白了兩點：第一，弗蘭茲的話是高尚而正義的，第二，他的話說明他沒有資格愛她。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;生活在真實之中，既不對我們自己也不對別人撒謊，只有遠離人群才有可能。在有人睜眼盯住我們做什麼的時候，在我們迫不得已只能讓那隻眼睛盯著的時候，我們不可能有真實的舉動。有一個公眾，腦子裡留有一個公眾，就意味著生活在謊言之中。她看不起文學，文學作者老實洩漏他們自己或他們朋友的種種內心隱密。她認為一個放棄了自己私我隱密的人就等於喪失了一切，而一個自願放棄它的人必是一個魔鬼。這就是她保守著那麼多戀愛祕密但一點也不感受到難過的原因。相反，這樣才使她得以生活在真實之中。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;她向法國朋友們說起這件事，他們都很驚訝。「你的意思是你不同意反對對你們國家的佔領？」她本來想告訴他們，在共產主義和法西斯主義的後面，在所有佔領與入侵的後面，潛在著更本質更普遍的邪惡，著邪惡的形象就是人們舉著拳頭，眾口一聲地喊著同樣的口號的齊步遊行。但她知道自己永遠也沒法使別人明白這些，便尷尷尬尬地改變了話題。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;在媚俗作態的極權統治王國裡，所有答案都是預先給定的，對任何問題都有效。因此，媚俗極權統治的真正死敵就是愛提問題的人。一個問題就像一把刀，會劃破舞台上的景幕，讓我們看到藏在後面的東西。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;真正的人類美德，寓含在它所有的純淨和自由之中，只有在它的接受者毫無權力的時候它才展現出來。人類真正的道德測試，其基本的測試（它藏得深深的不易看見），包括了對那些受人支配的東西的態度，如動物。在這一方面，人類遭受了根本的潰裂，潰裂是如此具有根本性以至於其他一切裂紋都根源於此。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;有一頭牛對特麗沙表示友好。小牛停下來，用棕色的大眼睛盯著她。特麗沙認出了這頭牛，一直叫牠瑪可塔。她總是樂於給所有的牛取名字，不過牛太多了，她做不到。不久以前，大約是四十年以前，村莊裡所有的牛都是有名字的（如果有一個名字就意味著有一顆靈魂的話，我可以說，這些牛都有一顆憎恨笛卡爾的靈魂）。但是後來，各個村莊都變成了大集中的工廠。牛只能在牛欄裡五碼見方的一塊小地方畢其終身。從那以後，它們就沒有名字了，成為了machinaeanimate（能活動的機器）。世界證明了笛卡爾是正確的。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;特麗沙總是出現在我的眼前，我看見她坐在樹樁上，撫摸著卡列寧的頭，反覆思索著人類的潰裂。我腦海中又出現了另一幅圖景：尼采離開他在杜林的旅館，看見一個車夫正在鞭打一匹馬。尼采跑上前去，當著車夫的面，一把抱住了馬頭放聲大哭起來。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這件事發生在一八八九年，當時尼采也正在使自己離開人的世界。換一句話說，他的精神病就是在那時爆發了。但是正基於這個原因，我覺得他這一動作的廣闊內涵是：尼采正努力替笛卡爾向這匹馬道歉。他的精神失常（這是他最終與人類的訣別）就是在他抱著馬放聲痛哭的一瞬間開始的。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這就是我所熱愛的尼采，正如我所熱愛的特麗沙 － 一條垂危病狗正把頭擱在她的膝蓋上。我看見他們肩並著肩，一齊離開了大道向下走去。那條大道上正前進著人類，「自然的主人與所有者」。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4845606929840914937?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4845606929840914937/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4845606929840914937' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4845606929840914937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4845606929840914937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/08/milan-kundera.html' title='《生命中不可承受之輕》Milan Kundera'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2766302088889827632</id><published>2011-08-04T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T14:30:12.249-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《夫與子》Turgenev</title><content type='html'>死是一個陳舊的笑話，可是對每個人都是很新鮮的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;阿里娜，伕拉西葉夫娜是一個純粹的舊式俄國大家婦女；她應當早生兩百年，生在舊莫斯科的時代。她是很虔信，並且感動的，她相信各種的算命、符咒、夢和預兆；她相信瘋子的預言，相信家神，相信樹神，相信不吉的遇合，相信凶眼，相信流行的丹方，她吃聖星期四那天特別預備的鹽，相信世界末日就在目前；她相信要是復活節晚禱的燭光不滅，蕎麥的收成一定特別好；她又相信要是被人看過了，薰子便不會生長；她相信魔鬼喜歡有水的地方；她相信每個猶太人胸上都有一塊血印；她害怕老鼠，害怕蛇，害怕青蛙，害怕麻雀，害怕水蛭，害怕雷，害怕冷水，害怕穿堂風，害怕馬，害怕羊，害怕紅頭髮的人，害怕黑貓，她把蟋蟀和狗當做不乾淨的畜牲；她從來不吃小牛肉、鴿子、螃蟹、乳酪、龍鬚菜、西洋野菜、野兔，她不愛吃西瓜，因為切開的西瓜使她想起了施洗約翰的頭，她講起了牡蠣就要打顫；她喜歡吃東西 － 可是嚴格遵守斷食節的規定；一天二十四小時內她睡去了十小時，可是要是瓦西里，伊凡諾維奇有一點頭痛，她也就整夜不睡；除了《亞歷克西》，或《林中小屋》外，她從沒有讀過一本書；她一年寫一封，最多寫兩封信，可是她處理家務，做蜜餞，做果醬卻弄得非常好，雖然她自己的手從來也不黏一下，而且她往往一坐下來就不願意再移動了。阿里娜，伕拉西葉夫娜心腸很好，並且在她的範圍內也絕不是愚蠢的。她知道世界上的人是分成兩類的，一種是主人，他們的職責是指揮別人，另一種是尋常老百姓，他們的職責是服從 － 因此她並不反對卑屈和跪拜的事情；可是她對待在她底下的人卻很仁善、溫和，她從不讓一個乞丐空手回去，雖然她很愛講閒話，卻從來沒有講過誰一句壞話。她年輕時很漂亮，會彈翼琴，還講幾句法國話；可是自從她並不情願地勉強同她丈夫結了婚，跟他一起漂游了許多年以後，她的身子長胖了，也忘記了音樂和法文。她很愛她的兒子，也很怕他；她把她的田產完全交給瓦西里去管理 － 她自己現在一點也不過問；只要她的年老的丈夫同她談起種種就要實現的改革與他自己的計劃，她馬上就會駭得把眉毛皺得高高的，搖著她的手帕，唉聲嘆氣起來。她多愁善感，總是覺得會有什麼大難發生，要是她想起了什麼傷心的事情，就會馬上痛哭...... 這樣的女人現今是不常見的了，只有上帝知道我們究竟應該不應該為這事情歡喜。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她同巴扎洛夫在一塊兒仍還覺得有點拘束，雖然她已經對他說過，並且還叫自己也相信過去的事全都忘記了。她同他談著最簡單的話的時候，甚至就在她同他開玩笑的時候，她也還感到一陣輕微的恐懼。就如坐輪船航海的人無憂無慮地談笑著，在別人看來他們與在陸地上完全一樣：可是只要發生了一點最小的障礙，只要看見了一點不尋常的徵象的時候，他們每個人的臉上理科現出特別驚惶的表情，這證明出來他們會時時刻刻都感覺到那個隨時都發生的危險。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2766302088889827632?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2766302088889827632/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2766302088889827632' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2766302088889827632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2766302088889827632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/08/turgenev.html' title='《夫與子》Turgenev'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8010359298496857051</id><published>2011-08-03T09:47:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T13:27:38.126-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>一日</title><content type='html'>世界總是要死一些人的&lt;br /&gt;這是避免不了的&lt;br /&gt;若我們都得到了和平、健康與幸福&lt;br /&gt;隨即就要被持續的快樂擁擠到厭煩&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;遠方有人的房子燒掉了&lt;br /&gt;被水淹沒了&lt;br /&gt;被風吹走了&lt;br /&gt;聰慧乖巧的孩子死去&lt;br /&gt;溫穩的孩子陷入地獄般的戀情&lt;br /&gt;漂亮的孩子除了賣弄臉孔和作態外哪裡也去不了&lt;br /&gt;也不想去&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;偉大的被忽略&lt;br /&gt;平庸的被高舉&lt;br /&gt;幸福的人總有些心虛&lt;br /&gt;除非他正一心一意支撐著不正義&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;為虛偽沾沾自喜&lt;br /&gt;假裝我們真的關心&lt;br /&gt;真的戰鬥&lt;br /&gt;真的相信&lt;br /&gt;再過一日 － 醒來，&lt;br /&gt;睡去。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8010359298496857051?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8010359298496857051/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8010359298496857051' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8010359298496857051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8010359298496857051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title='一日'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4236774981845277652</id><published>2011-07-28T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T13:26:17.938-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《告別圓舞曲》Milan Kundera</title><content type='html'>露辛娜只是出於謙虛才說的這句話，但是，小號手卻立即為自己辯白起來，就彷彿這一聲&lt;i&gt;你是不是有些太誇張&lt;/i&gt;針對的就是他蠱惑人心的說法，是她一下子就把它揭穿了似的。然而，他已經無法再後退了：&lt;br /&gt;“是的，我太誇張了。我總是有些瘋狂的念頭。我就是這樣的人。但是，我跟別的人不一樣，我會實現我那些瘋狂的念頭。請相信我，再沒有比實現瘋狂的念頭更漂亮的事情了。我真希望我的生活僅僅是一系列瘋狂的念頭。我真希望我們再也不回溫泉城去，我真希望就這樣把車繼續開下去，始終不停，一直開到大海邊。在那裡，我會在一個樂隊中找到我的位置，我們沿著海岸，從一個療養地走到另一個療養地。”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他朝她附下身，把他的嘴巴壓在她的嘴巴上。這是一張鮮豔的嘴，一張年輕的嘴，一張漂亮的嘴，柔軟的嘴唇輪廓勾勒得很美，潔白的牙齒保護得很精心，一切都沒有改變，一點兒沒錯，就在兩個月之前，他屈服於誘惑，親吻了這對嘴唇。但是，恰恰是因為這張嘴娜時候誘惑了他，他透過欲望的濃霧隱約瞥見它，卻不知道它真正的模樣：舌頭像是一團火焰，津液就是一口令人陶醉的美酒。只是在現在，在丟失了它的誘惑之後，這張嘴才突然恢復了它原來的樣子，成了&lt;b&gt;真正的嘴&lt;/b&gt;，就是說，那個兢兢業業的口子，通過它，那女郎已經消化了若干立方米的麵團、土豆和菜湯，牙齒上帶有少量的充填物，津液不再是一口令人陶醉的美酒，而只是唾沫的難兄難弟。小號手的嘴裡滿是她的舌頭，活像是一團不好吃的食物，根本無法下嚥，卻又不好意思吐出來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;正義不是一件人類的事情。有盲目和殘酷的法律的正義，也可能還有另一種正義，一種更高的正義，但這種正義是我所不能理解的。我總感覺到生活在此就是生活在正義之外。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4236774981845277652?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4236774981845277652/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4236774981845277652' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4236774981845277652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4236774981845277652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/milan-kundera.html' title='《告別圓舞曲》Milan Kundera'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1309011280328944257</id><published>2011-07-23T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T12:53:11.697-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Salman Rushdie《羞恥》</title><content type='html'>我們知道萬有引力的力量，但不知道它的起源，為了解釋我們為什麼依戀出生地，我們假裝是樹木來談論樹根。看看你的腳下，你不會看見根鬚穿過鞋底生長出來。有時候我想，根，是一種保守的神話，旨在使我們不四處移動。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1309011280328944257?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1309011280328944257/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1309011280328944257' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1309011280328944257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1309011280328944257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/salman-rushdie.html' title='Salman Rushdie《羞恥》'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-3466253712306882227</id><published>2011-07-21T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T18:27:21.589-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>無名之人</title><content type='html'>他還在說，她瞪著他腰裡的那顆痣，慢慢地，慢慢地變得不認識。那是什麼，它不一樣了，原來的它已經消失，這裡的這個黑點沒有名字，沒有人能辨認，它什麼也不是。直到你將他殺死，你才重新認出了他來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;這身子的一切你都熟悉，眉角耳朵嘴唇。但他沒有名字。它本來有名字，現在這個名字有它自己的生活。自己的事。這個名字忙碌了，他精神勃勃，怒氣衝衝。這名字離開這具身體，把他留在這裡。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;留給我吧。留給我吧。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;多年後你會看到那個名字，出現在他自己的生活。看上去多麼眼熟，但你知道不同。名字身邊站著別人，那些人曾經都很瘦。現在他們把時間像年輪都圍在腰間，硬生生多了一圈圈。名字像不認識你。你其實也不確定你在哪裡。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-3466253712306882227?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/3466253712306882227/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=3466253712306882227' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3466253712306882227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3466253712306882227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_9052.html' title='無名之人'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-927894625064444275</id><published>2011-07-21T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T18:24:03.893-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>半夜兩點</title><content type='html'>喝了一杯酒&lt;br /&gt;但是我再也不會醉了&lt;br /&gt;我的靈魂要我回家&lt;br /&gt;它說：你別在這裡看他。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我回家。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我再也不出門了。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-927894625064444275?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/927894625064444275/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=927894625064444275' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/927894625064444275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/927894625064444275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_2759.html' title='半夜兩點'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1591800678621566515</id><published>2011-07-21T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T18:14:39.895-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>春天的三個月</title><content type='html'>你何時出賣我&lt;br /&gt;你何時背叛我&lt;br /&gt;你何時忘記我&lt;br /&gt;全部的花都在問著。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1591800678621566515?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1591800678621566515/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1591800678621566515' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1591800678621566515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1591800678621566515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_21.html' title='春天的三個月'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7581739817950268842</id><published>2011-07-21T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T16:02:58.893-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>21</title><content type='html'>打個蛋花&lt;br /&gt;切點蔥&lt;br /&gt;淋上糖漿&lt;br /&gt;鮮奶油&lt;br /&gt;巧克力碎片&lt;br /&gt;小茴香&lt;br /&gt;靈魂&lt;br /&gt;我的靈魂&lt;br /&gt;我不知道&lt;br /&gt;拿你怎麼做&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你在那&lt;br /&gt;你一直在那&lt;br /&gt;你坐在床頭&lt;br /&gt;睜眼看著我&lt;br /&gt;靈魂&lt;br /&gt;我的靈魂&lt;br /&gt;我不知 拿你 怎麼做&lt;br /&gt;我不知 拿你 做什麼&lt;br /&gt;我不知道還能給你什麼&lt;br /&gt;你要我給你什麼。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7581739817950268842?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7581739817950268842/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7581739817950268842' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7581739817950268842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7581739817950268842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/21.html' title='21'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6382886359473785335</id><published>2011-07-19T20:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T20:04:12.905-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《荒原狼》Hermann Hesse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;與世無爭，沒有痛苦，過著平庸的日子，是一件美事。過這種日子，既不敢叫苦也不敢喊了，一切都要低聲耳語，悄悄而行。遺憾的事，我正是對這種與世無爭受不了，而且很快就變得對此憎恨無比、厭煩之極，我一定要躲到另一種空氣中去。當然我希望逃避的道路是愉快的，但即使是痛苦的也在所不辭。如果我有一段時間既無歡樂也無痛苦的話，如果我呼吸著那平淡無味的所謂好日子的空氣的話，在我孩童般的內心就感到陣陣痛苦，我就要將那生鏽的感激之琴向睡意朦朧的滿足之神的臉上扔去。我寧願讓那異常殘忍的痛苦在胸中燃燒，而不願領受這有益的溫室氣氛。於是在我心中燃起了對強烈感情的野蠻渴望，對轟動世界事件的渴望；燃燒起對平庸、單調、常規、空洞的生活的憤怒；燃起要打碎甚麼東西的瘋狂欲望，砸爛一個百貨商店也好，一個大教堂也好，或者毀掉我自己也行。我就是想魯莽冒險，想扯下可敬的神像頭上的假髮，想給那些敢於造反的學生買好他們渴望的去漢堡的車票，想誘騙年輕的姑娘，或者扭斷維護中產階級世界秩序的某些代表人物的脖子。我深深地憎恨、厭惡、詛咒這一切：與世無爭、健康舒適、中產階級所推崇的樂觀，中庸之道的繁文縟節，一切普通、中等、平常的東西的滋生爛殖。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;這部永動機，它阻礙了人們像我這樣對自己的生活進行批評，阻礙了人們去認識和體會他們生活的愚蠢和淺薄，去認識和體會他們生活的絕望的悲哀和荒涼。啊，這些人，他們是對的，絕對正確，他們這樣生活，做他們的遊戲，追求他們的大事，而不是像我這個離軌的人那樣去反抗生活的可悲的機械性，絕望地注視著一片空虛。&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;動物常常是悲傷的，而一個人要是悲傷，並且原因不是牙痛或者丢了錢，而是由於他一時之間突然感到了他的整個生活，感受到了這一切究竟是怎麼回事，那麼他的悲傷就是真誠的，他看起來就總是有點像動物，看起來悲傷，但比平時更真更美。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;你曾經是一位藝術家和思想家，曾經是一個充滿歡樂和信仰的人，一直在追求偉大和永恆，對漂亮而眇小的東西從不滿足。但是你越是被生活喚醒，更清楚地認識你自己的面目，你的困苦就越大，就越深入地陷進痛苦、不幸和絕望之中，深不可拔。而你一度所認識、喜愛和尊重的一切美好和神聖的東西，你原來對人們和我們崇高使命的信仰，現在對你都無濟於事，變得毫無價值，支離破碎了。你的信仰已找不到空氣可呼吸。而窒息是一種痛苦的死亡。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;你的心目中有一幅生活的畫面，一種信仰，一種要求，你準備去行動、去受罪、去犧牲 － 然後你卻發現，世界根本不要求你去行動、去犧牲以及做出諸如此類的行為，生活並不是充滿英雄角色和英雄業績的英雄史詩，而是一間中產階級舒適的客廳，想著英雄業績，美好的理想，敬重偉大詩人或聖賢，那他就是傻子，就是唐吉軻德。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;誰想要生活下去並感到生活得愉快，那他就不能像你我這樣做人。誰要是不要忍耐而要音樂，不要消遣而要喜悅，不要金錢而要靈魂，不要忙碌而要真正的工作，不要玩笑而要真正的熱情，那麼這個漂亮的世界就不是他的安身之處。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6382886359473785335?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6382886359473785335/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6382886359473785335' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6382886359473785335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6382886359473785335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/hermann-hesse.html' title='《荒原狼》Hermann Hesse'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-249706598727857875</id><published>2011-07-14T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T11:54:10.372-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>海子</title><content type='html'>祝福，因為&lt;br /&gt;你不能再做什麼&lt;br /&gt;該留下的就留下&lt;br /&gt;該離開的就離開&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;祝福愛人的都得以被愛&lt;br /&gt;出發的都能抵達&lt;br /&gt;祝福欺騙的真相都得以掩蓋&lt;br /&gt;失足落溪能重歸大海。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-249706598727857875?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/249706598727857875/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=249706598727857875' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/249706598727857875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/249706598727857875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post_14.html' title='海子'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1275051133595516524</id><published>2011-07-12T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T20:15:19.259-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《欲望初綻的夏天》Guy Goffette</title><content type='html'>你知道的，我多麼希望可以如此。讓自己不要那麼痛苦，能走出自己封閉的世界，重新開始某種類似愛的東西，某種清純的，溫柔的，有生命力的東西，可以一勞永逸的讓這句軀體 － 這具像是沒有用的舊玩具般被丟棄在記憶深處的軀體 － 和劇變前的這個男孩 － 當時森林依然處處充滿著神祕和驚喜 － 兩者相互契合。然後，像棲林之鳥般內心平靜地離開這個世界，而不是像我現在這樣，夜夜惶恐顫懼，就像獵人步步逼近時，那隻失音的松鴉。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1275051133595516524?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1275051133595516524/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1275051133595516524' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1275051133595516524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1275051133595516524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/guy-goffette.html' title='《欲望初綻的夏天》Guy Goffette'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8130025698094512936</id><published>2011-07-02T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T08:41:25.353-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>行事</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;一碗不熱的熱湯&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;一架走過地上的飛機&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;不帶仇恨的殺戮&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;一棵從未存在的樹&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;完全陌生的痣&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;一場走錯了的筵席&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;一個沒有愛的情人&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;做出非常婉約的姿勢。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8130025698094512936?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8130025698094512936/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8130025698094512936' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8130025698094512936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8130025698094512936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/blog-post.html' title='行事'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8673580428168923326</id><published>2011-07-01T18:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T18:03:59.383-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>La Chamade - Sagan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;她明白自己為的是尋找一些刺激的事，一些悲劇，一些除了厭惡自己以外的其他任何事。而受罪的會是查理，而受苦的會是查理。她只喜歡極端，這是一回事，然而讓其他人忍受她的極端，又是另外一回事。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;不幸有時會給人力量，讓人產生一股活力，產生一股生氣，就跟在欣喜之下所產生的力量一樣。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;她知道大清早來糾纏情人是一種錯誤，就和這兩年來愛上安東是一個錯誤一樣。只不過直到目前為止，她人生中這個錯誤始終像一首隱密的電影主題曲，在背景悠悠回響，而此時此刻，這個錯誤變成了殘忍且無可彌補的喧譁鑼鼓聲。她看著自己最後一次盡力表現出悠然自在的態度，好繼續扮演被愛女子的角色。之後，她就得換上另一個既陌生又恐怖的臉孔，一個被拋棄的女子。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;安東向她遞了一個不知所以然的眼光，而從這眼光中她發現到一個純屬男人的永恆世界，在這個世界，一個男人不可能尊重他不愛的情婦。也許她是在恭維他，也許他對她是有某種程度的尊重，但是對他而言，在本能上，在內心深處，她是最無恥的妓女。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;要讓男人和女人真正相愛，只是讓彼此享樂、讓彼此歡笑是不夠的，還需要讓彼此受苦。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;「&lt;/span&gt;我以為事情不嚴重。你要知道，我希望......&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;查理突然停住不語，轉身對著她：&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;「&lt;/span&gt;你很明白我愛你。不要以為失去你我不會感到痛苦。我不會忘記你，也不會找人取代你的。我已經過了這種替代補償的年紀了。&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他微微而笑。&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;「&lt;/span&gt;你聽著，露西爾，你會再回到我身邊的。我是為了你一個人而愛你，安東是為了你們在一起的一切而愛你。他要和你一塊兒得到幸福，對他這個年紀的人來說很正常。而我呢，我要你不依賴我也能幸福。我只要等就行了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;何況，他會為了你的個性而責備你。說不定他已經責備過你了。責備你是個享樂主義者，無憂無慮，而且還相當軟弱。他一定會為了他所認為的你的弱點或是缺點而責怪你。他還不了解女人的力量來自何處，就是為了這個力量，男人喜歡女人，儘管這些因素中包括最壞的缺點。他會因為你而了解這些事的。他會了解到你之所以很愉快、很有趣、很友善，就是因為你擁有這些缺點。不過，到時候就太遲了。至少我是這麼認為。然後你就會回到我身邊來。因為你知道我明白。&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他們會因這種焦慮而感到痛苦，然而他們內心隱隱約約明白，焦慮感在他們其中一人身上消失的時候，也就是他們的愛結束的時候。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;露西爾很懶散，她有極大的能耐不去做任何事，也不去考慮任何未來。她很容易覺得幸福，即便過著如此空洞、如此懶散、如此相似的日子。有時候他覺得這件事很荒唐，近乎可怕。他很明白她愛著他，因此之故，她跟他在一起不會覺得無聊，就跟他跟她在一起也不覺得無聊一樣。可是他感覺出這種生活是最接近她內心本性的生活方式，而他則是因為愛戀才得以忍受這種永恆不斷的空洞。他覺得自己碰上了一種難以理解的生物，一株不知名的花草，一株曼陀羅。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;因為露西爾談論自己的計劃時，比任何人都更具有說服力，尤其是那些瘋狂且和她本性相悖的計劃。她昨晚到底喝了什麼酒或是看了什麼書，竟說出這一番話來？她既沒有抱負也沒有毅力，既不想工作，也不想要自殺。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;她很明白，她暫時掩飾辭職的事並不意謂她有決心要去彌補。她內心有某種可怕的堅決意念，然而她不知道是什麼。其實，她下定了決心只做她自己喜歡的事。可是一旦喜歡上一個人，便很難對自己吐露事實。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;堅決拒絕所有責任的同時，她也拒絕讓另一個人擔負責任，這也許是她唯一誠實的地方。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;「&lt;/span&gt;也許是一種奔放，一個人在走路的感覺，天知道你什麼地方都不想去。一種欲求，天知道你什麼都不想占有。一種永恆不絕的欣喜，可是你很少笑。你要知道，一般人看起來總是應付不了自己生活的重量，而你看起來是你的生活應付不了你。就是這樣。&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;但是她在這齣動人的戲劇中沒有戲份可演，就如同三個月前她在報社冰冷的辦公室裡也沒有戲份可演一樣，就跟她一生都找不到適當的角色演出一樣。她既不是交際花，也不是知識份子，更不是家庭主婦，她什麼也不是。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8673580428168923326?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8673580428168923326/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8673580428168923326' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8673580428168923326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8673580428168923326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/07/la-chamade-sagan.html' title='La Chamade - Sagan'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7018012612743262252</id><published>2011-06-29T13:34:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T14:21:57.236-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>蒙娜利莎的微笑</title><content type='html'>他總是比她早到十五分鐘，買好票，在門口帶著微笑等她。可能是劇院，可能是電影院，歌劇院，博物館，美術館。她永遠弄不清楚的是，無論是多麼人聲鼎沸的場所，他總能找到一個毫無人跡的小點，像裝著聲納的身體輕易在人海中掃出一塊空曠。而她，總能遠遠就看見他在那沈靜的站在那，如一棵無視繁忙水域的金色海草，旁若無人，自顧自地飄揚。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他會看見她，露出金色的微笑，“渴嗎？”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她搖頭，他便點頭，與她並肩走進那些地方；她點頭，他也能瞬間不知從哪裡拿出水來，看她慢慢飲下，像看著撿來的小貓舔牛奶。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;節目後兩人很有默契地並不討論作品，像本有共識的事情毋需言明，兩人到吃飯的地方。“白酒好嗎？”他明知道她都會說好。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他送她上樓，並不問能不能喝咖啡，他會拿過鑰匙在暗中找到匙孔，再請她進門，像是他們走進的是他家而不是她家。他為她脫下外套，拍散雪花，掛好，走進客廳，望著她的眼睛，無比溫柔地摸摸她的頭髮、額頭、眼角、雙頰，無比正常地吻她，輕輕為她解開扣子，直到兩人赤裸地站在那裡，他撫摸她，手勢像羽毛一樣輕，她微微顫抖。他吻她身體像吻大理石像。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他讓她感到歡愉，隨即理所當然地到達。在激情徘徊到退去間久久抱著她，偶爾吻她肩頭，等到她終於從胸臆裡抬起頭，便看見他閉著雙眼，嘴角仍有一樣的微笑。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有時候他留下。有時候他與她說些不相干的小話，談威士忌的後味有核桃還是一抹麝香，等她真倦了，才起身關燈，帶上門離開。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;早上，她會在桌上看見他留下的紙條：日安，Bisous。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;那是法文親吻的意思。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她試過主動打電話給他，總是直接進入留言系統，“有個畫展... ”她說。她最多也就說這麼多。不久便會收到他的簡訊，問她某個特定的時間，可以嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;當然可以。她發覺，剛開始只是單純的有個懂得的伴，慢慢地，他們去看了甚麼並不重要。她開始在畫前走神，舌頭等待著冰涼或溫暖的醇酒；歌劇女伶高聲激迫地傾訴，她感覺他的體溫從絨布椅子中向她攀來，緊緊交纏 － 他動也沒動。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她胸口發緊，開始窒息。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她開始無法睡去，無論他多麼溫柔。終於有一次他意外地倦去，甚至打著輕鼾。她像得了甚麼好處，偷偷地、貪婪地看他。肩膀、頸骨、一條線耳後描到前顎，在尖端轉了兩圈，再偷偷在嘴唇以下的地方，重重地打個印，按在自己心上。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他跳過一口氣，驟然醒來，她反射性地閉上眼裝睡。耳朵看見他簌簌套上一件件衣服，無比整齊，關燈，走出門外。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;聽見大門關上，她迅速裹著棉被跑到外面，桌上沒有紙條。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他是怎麼走的？她甚至從未聽見車聲。他們不開車，他在哪裡上的計程車？計程車帶著他去哪？他和他柔軟的大衣，他的袖口......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他們在一個開幕會相遇，介紹兩人認識的人他們都不熟，滿天真切的場面話。他一開始就沒說甚麼，只記得兩人都說，往往都是自己獨自出現...... 他拿過她的電話，打給自己。甚麼都沒問。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;不久，她便接到他的短信。時間，地點，可以嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;可以...... 可以，可以。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;之後的，都無比自然。他似乎都知道。完美的舞伴。她跟著他旋轉，低身，敬禮，每個步驟這樣得體。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他睡著那次以後，他隔了許久都未曾找她。她發現自己手足無措，惶惶終日。整個城市像突然沒有一場好戲，她不能隨便找一場，那太明顯，甚麼內容根本不重要，她只是要見他。她不能讓他知道實情。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他還會打來嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他們再次見面是一個畫展，他提出的，但她發覺兩人都有點心不在焉。但他的微笑一樣。在餐桌上，她第一次問他：你覺得剛剛的畫展好嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她第一次看見他有些意外。他端詳她半晌，重新恢復那金色的微笑。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「親愛的，」他像對一個小孩解釋，「那只是些圖片，不是嗎？」&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7018012612743262252?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7018012612743262252/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7018012612743262252' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7018012612743262252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7018012612743262252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post_29.html' title='蒙娜利莎的微笑'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6104340941114862535</id><published>2011-06-24T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T15:38:25.442-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《春 在綠蕪中》鍾曉陽</title><content type='html'>我對小孩子是從來沒有多大感覺的。可是既在夢裡，少不免有點反常，我比我平時的為人有愛心得多了，非常慈祥的問那小女孩：你叫甚麼名字？她說：寧靜。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6104340941114862535?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6104340941114862535/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6104340941114862535' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6104340941114862535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6104340941114862535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title='《春 在綠蕪中》鍾曉陽'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1962569722676370838</id><published>2011-06-23T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T20:10:32.163-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>A Moveable Feast - Ernest Heyminway</title><content type='html'>寫不出來就不要勉強，何必叫苦？回家去，找個事做，或上吊也行。只要不再提寫作就行，你永遠也學不會的。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1962569722676370838?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1962569722676370838/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1962569722676370838' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1962569722676370838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1962569722676370838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/moveable-feast-ernest-heyminway.html' title='A Moveable Feast - Ernest Heyminway'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-9022348261308281513</id><published>2011-06-23T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T20:09:05.223-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《福婁拜的鸚鵡》Julian Barnes</title><content type='html'>－ 別將我歸類成那些為性而愛或洩慾後便作嘔的普通傢伙。不：在我身上，一旦激起的感受不會快速減退。我心裡的城堡一建造出來，馬上就長出青苔；不過要過很長時間，城堡才會變成廢墟，而且不會全部變成廢墟。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;－ 我的內裡有種激進的、私密的、苦澀而不止歇的&lt;b&gt;厭煩&lt;/b&gt;，阻止我去享樂，讓我的靈魂透不過氣來。這種東西會以各種形式顯現出來，就像溺水狗腫脹的身體仍會浮出水面，即使牠們的脖子已經綁上了石頭。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我不太在乎巧合，巧合令人毛骨悚然：巧合讓你暫時感覺到生活在這樣有秩序、上帝都安排得好好得宇宙裡會是什麼模樣，祂在你得肩頭後面看著，有關這個宇宙的計劃，不時丢給你一些露骨的暗示。我寧願相信事情是混亂，是不負責任的，也是永遠暫時性的瘋狂 － 去感受人類必然的漠視、殘酷、愚昧。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;－ 對我來說，如果我是你的丈夫，我們在一起可能會快樂。在我們快樂之後，我們就會憎恨彼此，這是很正常的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;悲傷裡充滿了時間，除了時間還是時間。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;－ 像我們這樣的人一定都信仰著絕望。什麼樣的人就有什麼樣的命運，換句話說，要能對什麼都無動於衷。藉著說出“就是這樣！就是這樣！的話、藉著凝視腳底下的黑洞，我們才能夠繼續保持鎮靜。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;－ 幸福的三個必要條件 － 愚蠢、自私和健康；不過若是少了愚蠢，其他兩項便也無用了。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-9022348261308281513?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/9022348261308281513/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=9022348261308281513' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/9022348261308281513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/9022348261308281513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/julian-barnes.html' title='《福婁拜的鸚鵡》Julian Barnes'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7384097627624476470</id><published>2011-06-20T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T15:42:12.542-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《深夜小狗神祕習題》Mark Haddon</title><content type='html'>質數就是你把所有的數學模式都去除以後餘下的數字。我覺得質數就像生命一樣，是非常合邏輯的，但你永遠也想不通那些規則，即使窮畢生之力去思考也不能。&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;大部分的兇手都認識被害人，事實上，在聖誕節當天最有可能殺死你的是你自己的家人。這是個事實。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7384097627624476470?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7384097627624476470/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7384097627624476470' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7384097627624476470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7384097627624476470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/mark-haddon.html' title='《深夜小狗神祕習題》Mark Haddon'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-828190399271531895</id><published>2011-06-19T10:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T19:30:04.025-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《出事 情》Christian Gailly</title><content type='html'>不、不，請聽我說，不，這樣子是不行的，替我想想，我就平靜了嗎？自從認識您後我就再也不平靜了，畢竟，我想說的是⋯⋯。是的，喬治，你想說的是什麼？他說：我不明白您拒絕見我的理由，我又不會把您給吃掉，他原本要說「把您給殺了」，過於極端，他於是將動詞殺掉換成吃掉，枉然，既然是要吃掉，不管吃的是什麼，都得先殺掉。她感覺到的就是這樣。當下她開始感到害怕。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他站在梯子的高處，並沒有認出那名來自波爾多的貝爾納員警，他頭上帶著一頂警帽。再次大喊，但這次的叫喊聲近乎動物性：蘇珊出事了嘛！他差點摔下來，但奇蹟似地被有關慕伊兒的念頭支撐住，念頭大概是這樣：那麼我就能自由自在地愛她了。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-828190399271531895?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/828190399271531895/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=828190399271531895' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/828190399271531895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/828190399271531895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/christian-gailly.html' title='《出事 情》Christian Gailly'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1641627158739829514</id><published>2011-06-17T16:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T16:15:16.963-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《再見 柏林》Christopher Isherwood</title><content type='html'>她很愛打探關於我的事，但只是像牛一樣徒勞地將頭在柵門的欄杆間穿進穿出。她並不特別希望柵門打開。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;莎莉似乎認識在場每一個人，全都直呼他們親愛的和寶貝。就一心放蕩拜金的女人而言，她似乎驚人地缺乏生意直覺和智慧。她浪費了大把時間在勾引一名年長男士，而那男士顯然寧願跟酒保聊聊。稍後，我們全都有點醉了。接著莎莉得去赴另一個約，經理也坐到我們這桌來。他跟弗里茨談論起英國貴族。弗里茨如魚得水。如同往昔，我又一次決定，再也不要踏進這種地方。 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有了孩子會讓你變得極端原始，像是某種野生動物之類的，只想保護幼小。唯一的問題是，我沒有幼小可以保護⋯⋯ 我想這是我現在對每個人都這麼暴躁的原因。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;「你知道嗎，莎莉，&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;」我說，&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;「我最喜歡你的地方就是，你非常容易相信別人。從不輕信他人的人都好乏味。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;假若奧托希望羞辱彼得，彼得也以他不同的方式希望羞辱奧托。他想強迫奧托某種程度上屈從他的意志，而奧托本能地拒絕這種臣服。奧托的自私自然而健康，就像頭野獸。如果房裡有兩張椅子，他會毫不猶豫選擇比較舒服的那張，因為他根本沒想過要鼓勵彼得的舒適。彼得的自私就沒那麼坦率，比較聞名，比較執拗。只要用對方法，他會做出任何犧牲，不論那有多麼不合理或多麼沒必要。但當奧托理所當然似地挑了比較好的椅子，彼得立即將此視為不能示弱拒絕的挑戰。依他們倆的個性，我想這情形沒有解套之道。彼得注定要不斷爭鬥以贏得奧托的誠服。而當他最後停止這麼做時，就表示他對奧托完全失去了興趣。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1641627158739829514?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1641627158739829514/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1641627158739829514' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1641627158739829514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1641627158739829514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/christopher-isherwood.html' title='《再見 柏林》Christopher Isherwood'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-3007105050280915300</id><published>2011-06-03T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T23:26:48.278-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Money - Martin Amis</title><content type='html'>Uniformed men stood by impassively like sentries in their trench. &amp;nbsp;I slapped my key on the desk and nodded gravely. &amp;nbsp;I was loaded enough to be unable to tell whether they could tell I was loaded. &amp;nbsp;Would they mind? &amp;nbsp;I was certainly too loaded to care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you lose your rug, you can get a false one. &amp;nbsp;If you lose your laugh, you can get a false one. &amp;nbsp;If you lose your mind, you can get a false one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deep down, I'm a pretty happy guy. &amp;nbsp;Happiness is the relief of pain, they say, and so I guess I'm a pretty happy guy. &amp;nbsp;The relief of pain happens to me pretty frequently. &amp;nbsp;But then so does pain. &amp;nbsp;That's why I get lots of that relief they talk about, and all that happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really want to know? ... I get up at seven and write straight through till twelve. &amp;nbsp;Twelve to one I read Russian poetry - in translation, alas. &amp;nbsp;A quick lunch - nothing technical, nothing hard. &amp;nbsp;four to five: European history, 1848 and all that. &amp;nbsp;five to six: I improve my German. &amp;nbsp;And from then until dinner, well, I just relax and read whatever the hell I like. &amp;nbsp;Usually Shakespeare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selina says I'm not capable of true love. &amp;nbsp;It isn't true. &amp;nbsp;I truly love money. &amp;nbsp;truly I do. &amp;nbsp;Oh, money, I love you. &amp;nbsp;You're so democratic: you've got no favourites. &amp;nbsp;You even things out for me and my kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happening to have turned out as the human being I am, the first thing I wonder about a woman is: will I fuck it? &amp;nbsp;Similarly, the first thing I wonder about a man is: will I fight it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain is very patient but even pain grows bored occasionally and wants to try its hand at something else. &amp;nbsp;Even pain gets pissed, and craves variety. &amp;nbsp;Pain doesn't always just want to hang around hurting all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My theory is - we don't really go that far into other people, even when we think we do. &amp;nbsp;We hardly ever go in and bring them out. &amp;nbsp;We just stand at the jaws of the cave, and strike a match, and quickly ask if anybody's there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-3007105050280915300?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/3007105050280915300/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=3007105050280915300' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3007105050280915300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3007105050280915300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/money-martin-amis.html' title='Money - Martin Amis'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1237844074255308202</id><published>2011-06-02T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T17:27:44.065-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《留住一切親愛的》John Berger</title><content type='html'>人民對於正義的欲望繁然無盡。也就是說，對於反叛不公不義的抗爭，以及追求生存、自尊和人權的抗爭，我們不該只考慮它們的直接訴求、它們的組織，或它們的歷史結果。不該把它們簡化成運動。運動是用來形容一群人集體朝向某個明確的目標前進，其結果不是成功，就是失敗。然而，這樣的形容卻忽略了無數的個人選擇、遭遇、啟迪、犧牲、新的欲望、悲痛，和最終的，記憶。這些都是由運動所引發的個人情感，但嚴格說來，這些也都只是運動的偶然產物。&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;運動許諾的，是未來的勝利；而這些偶然時刻所許諾的，卻是這個當下與瞬間。這類時刻包括了，歡欣無比或悲劇至極地在行動中所經驗到的自由。（不行動根本不可能有自由。）這類時刻是先驗的，是史賓諾莎所謂的永恆，沒有任何歷史結果可以比擬，它們有如不斷擴張的宇宙中的點點繁星。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;並非所有的慾望都指向自由，但自由是欲望被承認、被選擇、被追求的經驗。欲望所關切的，從來不只是擁有某事某物，還包括改變某事某物。欲望是一種渴求。對當下的渴求。自由未必能實現這種渴求，但它承認這樣的渴求是至高無上的。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;消費主義已成了這個星球最強大也最具侵略性的意識形態，它開始想說服我們，痛苦是一種意外，我們可以為它買保險。這就是它冷酷無情的邏輯基礎。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我不是征服者，我隸屬於失敗者的一方，令戰勝者心懷恐懼的失敗者。勝利者的時間永遠是短暫的，失敗者的時間卻無限綿長。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;你好像對雞有點了解，他說。母雞生病時，就不會孵蛋。幾乎啥都不做。然而，有一天，當牠醒來，發現死神靠近了。有一天，牠知道自己就快要死了。然後你猜，怎麼了？牠開始孵蛋，一孵再孵，除了死亡之外，沒任何事能阻止牠。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;他剝除掉所有的偽善、半真半假，以及貪婪權勢的假面，因為它們只會滋養無知，而無知是一種無視於現實的盲目形式。也因為它們鄙視記憶，包括語言本身的記憶，而記憶卻是我們的最大遺產。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這世界不總是冷酷無情的嗎？但今日的冷酷或許是最頑強、最瀰漫、也最持續。它既不赦免這個星球，也不放過居住在其上的所有生命。它很精粹，因為它完全提煉自追求利潤的單一邏輯（如冷凍庫一般冰寒），它威脅要淘汰其它所有信仰，以及懷抱尊嚴和一絲希望來面對殘酷人生的傳統。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;此刻這個歷史時期，是圍牆的時代。當柏林圍牆倒下之際，也正是準備在世界各地興建圍牆正式展開之時。水泥之牆、官僚之牆、監視之牆、安全之牆、種族之牆。世界各地的圍牆，將鋌而走險的窮人與抱著最後一絲希望想維繫財富的人隔離開來。圍牆貫穿了各個領域，從穀物耕作到醫療保健。圍牆也矗立於世界最富裕的大都會中。圍牆是很久以前人們稱之為階級戰爭的前線。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;牆的一邊：應有盡有的軍備，沒有人員傷亡的戰爭美夢、媒體、富足、衛生、琳琅滿目的魅力通關密語。牆的另一邊：石頭、物資短缺、世仇、武力報復、疾病叢生，以及誓死如歸和多活一天是一天（或多活一週是一週）的心態同時並存。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;對今日這個世界而言，抉擇的意義就在這裡，在牆的兩邊。我們每個人心中也有一道牆。無論我們身處何方，我們都能在內心裡抉擇要和牆的哪一邊同調。那不是一道善惡之牆。兩邊皆有善有惡。那是自我尊重和自我混沌的抉擇。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;強權貴冑的一般，是對恐懼的盲從因襲（它們從未忘記圍牆），以及不再有任何意義的滔滔話語。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;牆的另一邊，是擁擠繁雜，差異不同，三不五時的失蹤，以及能為生命賦予意義的語言辭彙，即使是悲劇的意義，尤其是悲劇的意義。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我們在此所思量的差異，牽涉到恐懼與信心之間的關係，以及飽受威脅與高高在上的關係。對他們而言，兩者之間毫無妥協的可能。他們的瘋狂宛如開關，一邊開啓，另一邊馬上關閉。然而重點是，生命正是在恐懼與信心相互妥協的漫長過程中，切實體察到生命的複雜多樣。我們正是從這裡學到我們所面對的東西。但二元論的瘋狂拒絕接受這樣的複雜性。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;就本質而言，消費者是感覺失落的人，除非他或她正在消費。品牌與 logo 成了 Nowhere 的一個個地名。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;欲望，當它是兩人之間的相互交流時，它是由兩人策劃的一場密謀，用以面對或藉以藐視決定這世界的其它所有密謀。它是兩人的串謀。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這計劃，是為了讓對方從現世的苦痛中得到豁免。不是幸福（！），而是一種肉體的豁免，從身體對苦痛的巨債負債中得到豁免。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;所有的欲望內部，都有著貪嗔癡求與憐憫；無論這兩者的關係比例如何，總是絞扭在一起。沒有傷口的欲望無法想像。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這場串謀的墓地，是為了共同創造一處豁免的所在，豁免的 locus，這豁免必然是暫時性的，這豁免是為了暫時逃離肉體所承繼的絕對創傷。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;人體具有無畏、優雅、嬉樂、莊嚴和其它無數特質，但人體在本質上也是悲劇的 － 這和所有的動物不同。（沒有任何動物是裸體的。）欲望希冀保衛它所欲求的身體，讓它遠離身體所具體呈現的悲劇，更有甚著，它還相信它能做到。這是欲望的信念。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;欲望裡自然不存在利他主義。欲望是獻出整個自我，包括肉體和想像的自我，來提供保護，來給予豁免。自欲望萌生之際，量具肉體便彼此含納，因而那豁免若果真發生，它將同時籠罩雙方。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;那豁免必然是短瞬的，但它卻承諾一切。豁免撤廢掉短瞬 － 但來自於短暫威脅的傷害，卻一路緊跟著它。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;在第三者眼中，欲望是一首短暫插曲；只能從內部經驗，是一種超越。然而對欲望的兩人而言，前此往後、日復一日的生命，都是圍繞著欲望打轉。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;欲望許諾豁免。然而，從現存的自然秩序中豁免，也就等同於小時。而這，正式欲望在其最狂喜時刻所呼喊的：讓我們就這樣消失無蹤！&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;戀人們的消失，不是逃避，不是棄離；而是轉移到他方，轉移到豐饒的入口。一般總認為，豐饒是一種累積。但欲望堅稱豐饒是一種贈予：寂靜的豐饒，黑暗的豐饒，在那兒，萬事萬物盡皆平和。這讓我想起一則古老夢想，金羊毛的傳說。（它所贈予的是：豁免於犧牲。）這故事以象徵性的手法，同時再現了無知與智慧。它在其隱匿之處伸展、蜷縮、無憂褻瀆、全然完整、無人可磨損其分毫。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;一旦分享經驗過這樣的豁免，這再也無可豁免的豁免將永誌難忘，而這樣的消失將比任何明顯可辨的事物更真實、更明確。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1237844074255308202?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1237844074255308202/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1237844074255308202' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1237844074255308202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1237844074255308202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/john-berger.html' title='《留住一切親愛的》John Berger'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8455015614682346148</id><published>2011-06-01T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T23:08:36.320-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Why Look at Animals? John Berger</title><content type='html'>Their surplus of curiosity, their research (every animal searches, only apes research) make them suffer in two evident ways - and probably also in others, invisibly. &amp;nbsp;Their bodies, forgotten, suddenly nag, twinge, and irritate. &amp;nbsp;They become impatient with their own skin - like Marat suffering from eczema.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then too, starved of events, they suffer boredom. &amp;nbsp;Baudelaire's l'ennui. &amp;nbsp;Not at the same level of self-doubt, but nevertheless with pain, apathy. &amp;nbsp;The signs of boredom may resemble those of simple drowsiness. &amp;nbsp;But l'ennui has its unmistakable lassitude. &amp;nbsp;the body, instead of relaxing, huddles, the eyes stare painfully without focus, the hands, finding nothing new to touch or do, become like gloves worn by a creature drowning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The act of creation implies a separation. &amp;nbsp;Something that remains attached to the creator is only half-created. &amp;nbsp;To create is to let take over something which did not exist before, and is therefore new. &amp;nbsp;And the new is inseparable from pain, for it is alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The peasant way of eating is centred on the act of eating itself and on the food eaten: it is centrifugal and cultural. &amp;nbsp;The first can complete itself in satisfaction; the second is never complete and gives rise to an appetite which, in essence, is insatiable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does the lover choose? &amp;nbsp;He chooses to stake the world (the whole of his life) against the beloved. &amp;nbsp;The beloved concentrates all the possibilities of the world within her and thus offers the realization of all his own potentialities. &amp;nbsp;The beloved for the lover empties the world of hope (the world that does not include her). &amp;nbsp;Strictly speaking, being in love is a mood in so far as it is infinitely extensive - it reaches beyond the stars; but it cannot develop without changing its nature, and so it cannot endure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The equivalence between the beloved and the world is confirmed by the sex. &amp;nbsp;To make love with the beloved is, subjectively, to possess and be possessed by the world. &amp;nbsp;Ideally, what remains outside the experience is - nothing. &amp;nbsp;Death of course is within it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This provokes the imagination to its very depths. &amp;nbsp;One wants to use the world in the act of love. &amp;nbsp;One wants to make love with fish, with fruit, with hills, with forests, in the sea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8455015614682346148?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8455015614682346148/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8455015614682346148' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8455015614682346148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8455015614682346148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-look-at-animals-john-berger.html' title='Why Look at Animals? John Berger'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1568997087774839081</id><published>2011-05-29T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T11:51:55.149-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《不幸年代裡的小幸福》Wilhelm Genazino</title><content type='html'>是的，這些洗衣廠在面對顧客的抱怨時總是裝聾作啞，這些人的腦袋似乎都已經不再健全，您瞭解嗎，我真是受夠了，我希望您不會是個裝聾作啞的人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;聽到這位女士的最後一句話，我們都笑了，我感到有些悲傷，因為我知道我經常裝聾作啞，只是為了能夠生存下去。是的，我甚至可以宣稱，裝聾作啞是我的主要生活技巧之一。對此，我當然不會露出一點風聲，即使在開玩笑的時候我也隻字不提。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我相信，大多數的男人都不明白他們已經有了一個家庭。男人的痛苦始於他們愛上了一個女人。正是這樣的痛苦才使他們恍然大悟，因為這也為他們帶來快樂和滿足。後來，男人與他們所愛的女人結了婚。男人也明白這一點，即使並不再是那般毫無疑問。接著，女人生下了兩個或者更多的孩子。這些過程男人就不怎麼清楚。因為他們現在是四個人或五個人坐在一張桌子上，和更多的人一起吃著晚餐。很快地，這些孩子會將這個男人稱為父親，這使得許多男人感到錯愕不已。現在，男人開始怪罪女人，並且恐嚇孩子。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;劇中主角的話越來越多，喝的酒也越來越多，對他自己的家庭卻也越來越不理解。我看著那主角，聽著他述說的話，剎那間回想起我有一天突然領悟到，我的父母在結婚之前曾是多麼地快樂。當時我十三歲，和母親一起看著家裡的老照片。我的父母在結婚之前是兩個歡笑著的年輕人，他們坐在喝啤酒的大棚子裡，或是坐在花園酒館裡，懷著對未來的歡愉心情彼此注視著。就像幾乎所有人一樣，他們高估了自己的能力而結了婚，生下了小孩。後來的照片中，我的父母親所展現出來的，都是憂心忡忡和力不從心的表情。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;看著這些老照片，我恍然明白，我的父母嘗試著將幸福（兩人世界的自滿自足）和新的不自由（婚姻）結合在一起，為此他們必須付出一種幾乎無可廓清的悲哀作為代價。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;此刻，這齣枯燥無味的、現在卻讓我覺得相當出色的劇作，不僅恰恰觸及我父母親的生活，同時也觸及我的生活。剎那間，我相信她想要的不只是一個孩子，而是至少兩個，或許是三個。我很高興我坐在一個黑暗的空間內，而且不需要說話。現在什麼也沒發生，我和她坐在劇院裡，但是我卻能夠感受到，一個惡毒的命運正悄悄向我襲來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;顯然，她已經厭倦了擔任儲蓄銀行分行主管的乏味工作，她在尋找一個新的幸福領域。為了重新體驗生活，她需要一些重口味的生活調味料，她需要孩子。兩秒鐘之後，一種對我而言迄今仍是未知的恐懼感，遍襲全身，不久之後，我的內心感到一陣麻木。必須要有某個人出現，將我從我的恐懼感重解救出來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;但是，一如往常般，沒有任何人出現。誰還會出現呢？要將人從麻木狀態中解救出來，是一種人類並不熟悉的舉動。我時而向她望去，她正瞪大了眼睛，微張著乾燥的嘴唇，看向舞台上發生的事情。剛剛在舞台上演出了兒子傑米，把他的錢都花在妓女和酒精上面的情節。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;謝天謝地，這個世界上還沒有人知道我眼前的弱點。我的驚恐來自於我突然間確信，她和我將會重蹈我父母親的命運。假使她不離開她那條朝幸福邁進的路線的話，我甚至必然就開始酗酒去。就此而言，我在舞台上看見的這齣戲，正是我當前最現實不過的生活。我甚至感覺到我正偷偷地享受著我自己的恐懼感，這不是我該做的事。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;正當我要繼續前進的那一瞬間，那女人站起來，拿起了她的手提包，走進了餐廳。估計她是得上廁所。在她那現在空著的椅子上，我看見了一把湯匙。我看了兩三次，發現這個女人從剛剛開始就一直坐在這把湯匙上，卻絲毫沒有察覺。要吃完這盤義大利麵，她並不需要湯匙，之需要一把叉子和張著大嘴在山一般的義大利麵上移動就夠了。我將臉轉向一邊，我不想讓人看見或聽見我在竊笑。我一向都知道：可笑的事物總是等著被揭穿的那一瞬間。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有一次她真的這麼說：你說實話吧，你有一個新的情人！我微笑著，或者說，笑得有點傻。她竟然會說出這種話！一個新的情人！要承受所有這一切真是痛苦。如果這位女士繼續做出這些愚蠢的評論，我會悄悄對自己說：靜下心來，你活在人們所熟悉的生活中，生活裡充滿了善意的愚蠢。我之所以想著這句話，只是因為至少可以藉此來使我的內心世界平靜下來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;然而我現在就已經知道，即使是這樣的安慰也沒法使我平靜下來。人可以想出各種卑鄙無恥又下流的句子，但是它們卻已經無濟於事。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;目前我和她的關係正出於岌岌可危的狀態。與我共同生活了這麼長一段時間的這個女人，現在卻成了我生活中一位特殊的客人。在我的感情深處，還始終對她懷恨在心，這種怨恨是麻木的、無聲無息的，而且我也不想說出來的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;曾經愛過人而且依然愛著人的人就會知道，要去適應一段愛情是多麼困難的一件事，需要花多麼長的時間。人們在痛苦中察覺到，他們為愛所做的付出，是沒辦法那麼簡單就可以再來一次的。痛苦所造成的結果，是人們從此害怕再對愛情付出。痛心的人必然會突然感到害怕，他所有的努力、所有的付出都是徒勞。我不喜歡在她即將到來之前，還在思考著如此沈重的問題。也許正因為這樣的原因，一股悲傷和苦澀的感覺現在正向我襲來。我試著想一些簡單平易的句子，譬如說：沒有必要為了獲取幸福而鬥爭。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;但是我沒辦法在不會同時感到噁心的情況下，刻意進行簡單平易的思考。因為不知道還有甚麼其它的方法可以幫助自己不去思考，我便走去了隔壁的視聽室。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1568997087774839081?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1568997087774839081/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1568997087774839081' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1568997087774839081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1568997087774839081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/wilhelm-genazino.html' title='《不幸年代裡的小幸福》Wilhelm Genazino'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-546207068950088361</id><published>2011-05-28T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T14:26:41.547-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《一座島嶼的可能性》Michel Houellebecq</title><content type='html'>正是在那個時候，我決定娶依莎蓓拉；我們認識已經有三年了，這個數字恰恰是一般人婚前交往時間的平均數中，婚禮是悄悄舉行的，稍稍有些憂鬱；她剛剛過了四十歲。我現在想起來這兩件事情是有關聯的，我想要表達我的愛意，以減少她對於邁入四十歲所感到的震驚。她沒有訴諸抱怨，也沒有顯出痛苦的模樣或是任何明顯的徵兆；那同時是更尖銳，更揪人心。有時候－尤其是在西班牙，當我們準備好要去海灘，而且她已經換上了游泳衣時－我感覺到，當我的目光落到她的身上時，她略微有點沮喪，就彷彿她的肩胛骨上挨了別人狠狠的一拳。一種轉瞬即逝的痛苦的怪相，扭曲了她臉上美麗的線條－她那細膩的、敏感的面孔的美，是經得起時光考驗的美；但是她的身體，儘管她堅持游泳，儘管她堅持跳古典舞，還是開始經受了歲月的最初打擊 － 這打擊，她心裡其實再清楚不過了，將迅速擴大範圍，直到她全面地走向衰敗。我不太清楚，我當時臉上是什麼樣的表情，讓她看了竟然那麼痛苦；早知如此，我應該儘量克制不要讓那種表情出現，我可以重申，我愛她；但是，很顯然，這是不可能的。我同樣也不怎麼可能對她反覆不斷地說，她始終還是那麼的漂亮，那麼的動人；我從來就不覺得，我能夠對她撒謊，哪怕只是撒一丁點兒的謊。我熟悉她聽了以後會流露出的目光：那是生了病的動物的目光，那麼謙卑，那麼憂鬱，它跟同伴保持好幾步的距離，它把腦袋搭在爪子上，輕輕地喘氣，因為它覺得自己已經受傷了。它知道，它從它的同類那裡，將等不到任何的憐憫之情。&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;同居這件事是兩個成人自願進入的地獄。在配偶的生活中，經常從一開始就存在著某些細節，某些不合，人們對它們往往緘口不說，因為他們熱切地期望，愛情將會解決所有的問題。在沈默中，這些問題漸漸地增大，幾年之後終於爆發，毀滅了共同生活的一切可能性。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;總之，就如我當天晚上對我的經紀人所說的那樣，我工作著，或者不妨說，我正在重新找回我的節奏；他表示為此很高興，他對我承諾說，他曾十分擔心。直到某一點為止，我是真誠的。只是在兩天之後，當我坐上去西班牙的飛機時，我才明白到，我會永遠也完不成這個腳本 － 更不用說來執導拍攝了。在巴黎，發生了某種社會動蕩，讓你覺得似乎是有所計劃的；回到聖荷西後，我知道了，我將徹底地僵化。我再怎麼故作優雅都沒有用，我正像一隻老猴子那樣漸漸地萎縮；我覺得自己在變小變矮；我的絮絮嘮叨，我的喃喃自語，都已經是老年人的那種了。我如今四十七歲，我已經有三十年在忙著讓我的同類發笑了；現在，我完了，被淘汰了，動不了了。我看待世界的目光原本還閃爍著的好奇心，馬上就要熄滅了，我將像石頭那樣，還有，一種模糊的痛苦。我的藝術生涯不是一種失敗，至少在商業意義上不是：假如人們以一種足夠的暴力來冒犯世界，它最終會把它的髒錢給吐出來；但是，它永遠不會，永遠也不會再給你們帶來快樂。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-546207068950088361?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/546207068950088361/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=546207068950088361' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/546207068950088361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/546207068950088361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/michel-houellebecq.html' title='《一座島嶼的可能性》Michel Houellebecq'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2496976221182807466</id><published>2011-05-28T14:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T14:03:14.837-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Deux Anglaises et le Continent - Henri-Pierre Roche</title><content type='html'>「夥伴 (copain) 這個詞粗俗嗎？」安娜全身赤裸地躺在床上問我。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「不是，這個詞頗為通俗，是小學生用於。夥伴比同學（camarade) 更能表達出熱情、有趣和親密的感覺。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「那麼我是你的夥伴了。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「是的，在大多數的時間裡，我們是夥伴，然而我們的關係並不只是夥伴而已。夥伴不會吻對方的唇，也不會讓我因心中小鹿亂撞。夥伴不會要求更多。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「你真的想得到更多嗎？」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「有時是，有時又不是。我很高興我們之間可以慢慢來。然而好奇著想要得到更多的人也是我。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「是啊，這是含糊又執拗的想法。這將會為我們帶來什麼結果呢？」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「將我們準備好的火柴點上火。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「啊，然後呢？」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「然後，我們不能預見火焰會讓我們變得如何。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「讓我們變得如何⋯⋯」 安娜的聲音改變了，不住地重複這句話，就像是傳來的回音，「來吧克羅德，就是現在了！」安娜將我拉到她的身上。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她臉紅，神情嚴肅。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我動作輕柔地試著。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「做吧，做吧！」她對我說道。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我還在猶豫。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「你做就是了！」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;語調的差別說服了我，心中存有的細微障礙於是消失。我進入了她的身體。她看我的眼神就如同我是她的夥伴，僅此而已。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;然而我們懂得，這場遊戲已經成了我們唯一的遊戲。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2496976221182807466?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2496976221182807466/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2496976221182807466' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2496976221182807466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2496976221182807466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/deux-anglaises-et-le-continent-henri.html' title='Deux Anglaises et le Continent - Henri-Pierre Roche'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6359712869484055634</id><published>2011-05-28T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T13:53:24.946-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《影迷》Walker Percy</title><content type='html'>朱勒姑父的領子就跟膠帶一樣伏貼在深色脖子上；袖口像摺疊整齊的餐巾，恰到好處地從上衣袖子中探出頭；襯衫正面常讓我不時有股衝動，想將臉邁進那雪白寬闊、柔軟密緻的棉布之中。朱勒姑父是我認識唯一在這世上無往不利的人。他賺了大把鈔票，交遊廣闊，曾加入狂歡節的遊行隊，在心胸和金錢上都很慷慨大方。他是模範天主教徒，不過很難理解何必要自找麻煩，畢竟他所生活的這人世已如此美好，天國為他保留的福分想必也不多。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;我就此住在那裡直到今日，獨自一人，滿懷思緒，日日夜夜都在思索，無時無刻不在思索。我的朋友不時會來拜訪，全都像青年藝術家一樣蓄鬍子、騎腳踏車，之後就往法國區去，聽音樂、找妓女，而我依然全心祝福他們。至於我，則跟謝克斯奈德太太一起留在家，打開電視。並不是我有多喜歡電視，而是電視不會讓我從思索中分心。也因此我沒辦法跟朋友們一樣去尋歡作樂，那太分散心神，而我連停止思索五分鐘都不能。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;現今當一個人住在某處、某個社區，那地方對他而言並沒有受認證的歸屬感。他很可能會悲哀地在那裡生活，體內的空洞不斷擴張，直到吞噬整個社區為止。但如果他看了一部電影，其中拍到了所居住的社區，那麼至少是暫時，他得以歸屬於某個叫得出名堂，而非不知名的地方。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她聽起來有些好轉，但其實不然。她在作繭自縛，這次是扮作我的哥兒們，交情最好且最瞭解我心思的密友。即使是現在，她也不顧一切要扮演好這角色。在漫長的夢魘中，所有她碰觸的東西，都毫無例外變形成恐怖之物，現在輪到我們倆長年的友誼了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;我發現大多數人都沒有說話對象，或者說沒有願意好好傾聽的人。當一個人終於明白你是真的願意聽他高談闊論，那臉上浮現的表情真是頗值得一觀。別誤會我的意思，我不是濫好人整天帶著小哨子到處逗人開心。那種慈善人士不會真的想聆聽，不會像我這麼自私。他們與人為善，害自己無聊的要死，而他們的聽眾也沒有真的為之精神一振。舉出一個濫好人鼓舞老太太的例子給我，我就能再舉出兩個身處於絕望中的人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;什麼是再現？再現是重新搬演一次過去的經驗，直到最後已然消逝的時光碎片被剝離出來，能夠被單獨品味，而沒有平常像黏的花生糖般附著在時間上，那些不相干的瑣事。比如上禮拜，我無意間經歷了一次再現。我在圖書館隨手拿起一本德文週刊，注意到其中有頁妮維亞乳霜的廣告，一個女人抬臉向著陽光。於是回想起二十年前，在父親書桌上的一本雜誌裡，也見過相同的廣告。同樣的女人，同樣有氣質的臉，同樣的妮維亞乳霜。霎時二十年間所有事，三千萬死亡、數不清的痛苦磨難、流離失所，全都煙消雲散。不可能有什麼了不起的事情發生，因為妮維亞乳霜秋毫無改。只有時間本身留存下來，像一大塊不會黏牙的花生糖。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;那麼，《無法無天》之後，我這十四年時光嚐起來又如何呢？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;一如往常，我無法明確回答。我對那些老舊的座椅感到可笑，夾板分裂，坐墊傷痕累累，卻仍然屹立不搖，彷彿在等著看這十四年間我做了什麼。而我也隱隱感到好奇，對他們的屹立好奇，對無盡的夜晚，那些下著雨的夏日深夜，十二點、一點、兩點，這些座椅在空蕩蕩的戲院兀自屹立感到好奇。這些堅忍不拔有其意義，不能視而不見。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;已經好一陣子了，我有種越來越強烈的感覺，人人都是死者。當我跟人說話時就會有這種感覺。句子講到一半，這種感覺就會襲來：沒錯，毫無疑問，這就是死亡了。你無能為力，只能呻吟，並儘快找藉口逃離。這個時候，交談的雙方就像是機器人，無從選擇口中說出的話語。我聽見自己或其它人說出：&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;「&lt;/span&gt;我認為俄國人是個很棒的民族，但是⋯⋯&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;或者，&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;「&lt;/span&gt;對，你說北方人虛偽這千真萬確，然而⋯⋯&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;這類的句子，而我心想：這就是死亡。最近，我只能不斷持續這種日常對話，因為我的臉頰已經培養出自我意識了。星期三站在路旁跟艾迪洛威爾閒聊時，我就感覺有段時間是閉著眼睛在說話。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;我發現，車子至關重要。剛搬到香緹利的時候，我買了一輛新的道奇轎車－紅色公羊六型。那是輛舒適、傳統、經濟的雙門轎車，在我眼中正適合香緹利的年輕生意人，各種證明文件齊備的退伍軍人，開著一輛好車的美國公民，這一切都切切實實。然而第一次跟瑪西雅開車到墨西哥海灣時，我沮喪地發現，我的道奇新車是個標準的失落感產生器。雖然車子夠舒適，像時鐘般運作順暢；雖然我們愜意地兜著風，四周景色宜人，就跟道奇汽車廣告上的美國夫婦一樣，但失落感很快就令人幾乎窒息。我們倆相敬如賓地坐在車裡，臉頰僵笑得發疼，彼此都渴望著對方。出於絕望，我將手伸到她洋裝下，但即使是這樣的小動作，得到的回應仍是同樣的彬彬有禮。我真想停下車，用頭去撞人行道。我們是可以那樣做，或做其它任何事，但我們只是一股腦向前衝，形成小小的絕望旋渦，像個颱風眼般掃過這世界。結果，要是我真停下車去撞頭，或許瑪西亞和我就不會如此滿懷失落地回到紐澳良了。之後過了好幾個星期我們才敢再次出遊。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;正因為如此，我才不喜歡開車，而喜歡搭公車或電車。如果我是基督徒，就會徒步去朝聖，這是最好的旅行方式，可是女孩子不喜歡。不過我的紅色小MG是例外。那其實是輛不怎麼樣的車，沒什麼優點，只有一樣：對失落感免疫。你絕對無法想像，當瑪西亞和我乘著這台明亮的小金龜車在公路上奔馳時，感覺到了什麼。我們驚訝地看著彼此：失落感消失了！我們迎向世界，迎向天地之間混濁的夏日氣息。噪音震耳欲聾，風勢猛烈如颶風，飛沙走石鋪天蓋地迎面而來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;「&lt;/span&gt;困擾我的不是良心。我要說的是，做什麼似乎都是白費力氣，就算真的有意義，我也不會記得。如果有人來跟我說：請你放下手邊的事四十分鐘，開始全力以赴，我保證你會發現治療癌症的藥，並譜寫出最偉大的交響曲－ 我也不會感興趣。你知道為什麼嗎？因為那對我來說還不夠。&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25px;"&gt;」&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6359712869484055634?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6359712869484055634/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6359712869484055634' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6359712869484055634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6359712869484055634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/walker-percy.html' title='《影迷》Walker Percy'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-3263148006207904447</id><published>2011-05-22T16:16:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T16:17:17.087-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>I don't need to understand.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;"It sounded well."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;"What does it sound like?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;"It sounds foreign."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;"It is foreign."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;"That's good. &amp;nbsp;Keep it foreign."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-3263148006207904447?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/3263148006207904447/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=3263148006207904447' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3263148006207904447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3263148006207904447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-dont-need-to-understand.html' title='I don&apos;t need to understand.'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4468013306678010470</id><published>2011-05-22T02:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:44:39.800-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《爸爸台北／媽媽紐約》陳俊志</title><content type='html'>絕望的愛情，石化的過程，那麼緩慢那麼痛苦，內裡有千萬種變化，旁人看來只是面無表情。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她說，我永遠都這樣，愛情上遇到可怕的傷害，之後，就會完全變成另一個人，像變色的石頭，冷酷的換色，徹底地變成傷害他或被他傷害的人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我自以為正義的，徹底譴責父親，妖嬌外遇阿姨阿珍給善良的母親帶來的傷害，在我心中歷歷如繪。我的世界楚河漢界黑白分明，裁定爸爸和阿珍是偷情者，敗德者，在邪惡的誘惑下毀滅了我們家庭的完整。媽媽含辛茹苦，完美無暇，值得整個世界的敬重。我當時並不知道，日後的感情路上，我輪流替換著不同的角色，和每個人都一樣。愛的棋戲中，有時我是背叛者爸爸，有時是辛苦的無辜者媽媽，更常是誘惑者阿珍阿姨。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4468013306678010470?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4468013306678010470/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4468013306678010470' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4468013306678010470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4468013306678010470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/blog-post_22.html' title='《爸爸台北／媽媽紐約》陳俊志'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2330645055388577374</id><published>2011-05-15T17:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T17:26:09.570-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>My Cœur</title><content type='html'>i want somebody tell me to finish my vegetables&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;or finish my vegetables for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no wait&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;just tell me to finish my&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with eyes that good enough to make fox cry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and when i eat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;make me feel like he might touch my hand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and do touch them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;when i finish my last bite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2330645055388577374?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2330645055388577374/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2330645055388577374' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2330645055388577374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2330645055388577374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-cur.html' title='My Cœur'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6378104041109493298</id><published>2011-05-09T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T17:55:27.249-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>deception</title><content type='html'>在你看不到的地方消失 猶如&lt;br /&gt;沒人知道的森林裡&lt;br /&gt;倒下了一棵樹。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6378104041109493298?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6378104041109493298/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6378104041109493298' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6378104041109493298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6378104041109493298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/deception.html' title='deception'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7006966962559814745</id><published>2011-05-09T17:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:45:04.977-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《亞庫班公寓》Alaa AL ASWANY</title><content type='html'>假如可以用“保守”來形容同性戀，那麼哈提姆是個保守的人；他不會犧牲尊嚴，不會往臉上抹粉，也不會自貶身價，使用許多古黛娜所使用的調情手段。在外表與舉止上，他向來寧可走折衷路線，熟練地遊走於優雅與陰柔之間，他今晚的打扮就是一例。他穿了酒紅色的套裝，纖細的脖子上打了黃圍巾，圍巾大部分塞入粉紅色的天然絲襯衫中，襯衫兩側的寬領末端翻到外套前襟上。由於衣著時髦、身軀苗條，加上精緻的法國五官，他看起來像是閃閃發亮的電影明星，只可惜浪蕩的生活在臉上刻下了皺紋，上面也還掛了同性戀常有的詭異陰鬱的神情，看了令人討厭。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;從朵拉的立場來看，她忍受了孤單與痛苦，婚姻失敗了，在年邁之際眼見子女棄她而去，走完了這段人生路，她居然沒有成就、沒有事業，這一點讓她很悲傷。令她大大不滿的是，薩奇看來完全不像是健康退化、賴活等死的老人，依然是個噴香水、追女人的花花公子。她一瞧見他在鏡子前微笑哼歌、精心打扮，或者注意到他興高采烈、驕傲自負，一股怨氣便立刻上賴，非得找他挑釁吵架、攻擊濫罵，否則無法消除這把心頭火。她批評他行為孩子氣、時時突發奇想。她不是站在道德立場提出這樣的批評，她挑剔他，只是因為他堅持這樣過日子，不像她只能守著自己的絕望。她對他有滿腔怒火，彷彿就像出席喪禮，卻見到了捧腹大笑的男人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“活到了這把歲數，你居然還是一派天真，為甚麼邪惡的事情會讓你感到驚訝？你的想法跟孩子一樣，以為好人就是會開心微笑，壞人就長得一臉醜樣，濃眉纏在一起。人生可是複雜多了，最善良的人、與我們最親密的人也有邪惡的一面。”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7006966962559814745?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7006966962559814745/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7006966962559814745' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7006966962559814745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7006966962559814745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/05/alaa-al-aswany.html' title='《亞庫班公寓》Alaa AL ASWANY'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-72153746785903020</id><published>2011-04-28T12:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T08:20:26.147-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>無故</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EvSM9xHlv_U/TsfXNkkUGiI/AAAAAAAAEpg/Y0CxMK_z1bU/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-11-18+at+10.11.49+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="216" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EvSM9xHlv_U/TsfXNkkUGiI/AAAAAAAAEpg/Y0CxMK_z1bU/s400/Screen+shot+2011-11-18+at+10.11.49+AM.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;那些悲傷在更早的時候就存在了，如同那些恐懼，我所感到的憤怒、恥辱、和絕望。拉鋸介於何寶榮的“黎耀輝，讓我們重新開始。”和沈曼楨的“世鈞，我們回不去了。”其中的灰色地帶是灰色的，斑斑點點的血跡四散。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;這不是你要的嗎？我問自己。你想要的是：我不愛你。而不是“我愛你但⋯⋯” 那不過是侮辱。無聊的、平庸的狀態和謊言，毫無質感謀殺的時間。那些令你遲疑你或許不需要知道的那些面 － 害怕真實因為害怕再沒有辦法如此漂亮地去想像那些地點、人物、時間。你更願意活在那些燦爛片刻裡。像無緣無故的法國電影，因為俄國全體小說給的大多是陰鬱。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;現實太現實；真實太真實。誰也經不起如此尖銳地剖析。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我說，那個人出現以後，我會告訴他我是誰；交出我的思想與時間，在雨夜裡敲開他的房門。褪下我所有衣衫，躺在他的床上、桌上、沙發上、地板上、書櫃前、鏡子前。這就是我。全都是你的了。我會讓他對你殘忍，像往我身體裡放一塊冰⋯⋯我會為此感到興奮，感到深刻，值得⋯⋯ 在溫柔裡也感到害怕。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;像黑暗中握住他冰冷的一雙手，靜待時間過去。讓時間齒輪一刻刻咬進皮肉，不期待任 何 一 點 點 甚 麼。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-72153746785903020?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/72153746785903020/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=72153746785903020' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/72153746785903020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/72153746785903020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post_28.html' title='無故'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EvSM9xHlv_U/TsfXNkkUGiI/AAAAAAAAEpg/Y0CxMK_z1bU/s72-c/Screen+shot+2011-11-18+at+10.11.49+AM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6313268214895997367</id><published>2011-04-24T17:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:45:30.815-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《帶小狗的女士》Cheknov</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;帶小狗的女士&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;－ 這些話是如此平常，但卻不知為何一下激怒了古羅夫，讓他有種輕蔑、骯髒的感覺。真是野蠻人講野蠻話！多麼愚蠢的夜晚啊，真是無趣又無意義的日子！瘋狂打牌、大吃大喝、酒醉，一成不變的談話。不必要的事情和談話反反覆覆佔去生命中最好的時間和精力，最終只剩下某種膚淺平庸的生活、荒誕不經，想要離開逃跑都沒辦法，簡直像在瘋人院或罪犯集中營似的！&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;古羅夫整夜不能眠，怒氣不止，之後便頭痛了一整天。在接下來幾個夜晚，他睡得很差，或坐在床上想東想西，或在房內來回踱步。孩子他厭倦了，銀行也厭倦了，他哪裡都不想去，甚麼話也不想說。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;－ 他以自身的情況來看待他人，不相信眼前所見，永遠假設每個人都活在祕密的掩護下，就像在黑夜的帷幔下過著一種真實又有趣的生活。每一個體的本我存在於祕密中，或許，多少因為如此，有些文化人才這麼緊張兮兮地請求要尊重個人隱私。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;－ 他的頭髮已經開始發白。他覺得奇怪，這幾年他老得這麼快，變得不好看了。他兩手摟著的肩膀是溫暖而顫抖的。他為這個生命感到同情，儘管目前已然這麼溫暖美好，但顯然已將近消逝枯萎，一如他的生命。她為了什麼這麼愛他？他在女人面前從沒現出他的原本面貌，她們愛的不是他本人，而是愛她們所想像而創造出的那個人，並在她們生活中貪婪地找尋那個想像；之後，當她們發現錯誤，卻還依然愛著。跟他交往過的這些女人中，沒有一個是幸福的。隨著時間過去，他與相識的女人分分合合，卻沒有一次真正愛過誰；說是什麼都可以，但就不是愛情。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;直到如今，當他的頭髮開始發白，他才真真切切地好好愛上一個女人 － 這可是他生命中的頭一遭。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;安娜謝爾蓋耶夫娜與他彼此相愛，如同關係非常密切的親人，如同丈夫與妻子，如同溫柔相待的知己；他們認為彼此的相會是命中注定，不能了解的是，為何他已娶、她已嫁；他們就像兩隻候鳥，一公一母，被人抓住強迫關在不同的籠子裡。他們彼此原諒了各自所羞愧的過往，原諒了當下的一切，感受到這份愛情改變了他們倆。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;從前在悲傷時，他會絞盡腦汁用盡理智安慰自己，但現在他已經無法理智思考，他深刻地感同身受，想要成為一個真誠而溫柔的人⋯⋯&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;某某小姐的故事&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;鄉村的朋友只有在鄉村和在夏天裡才顯得迷人，到了冬天回到城裡後，他們的美好便喪失了大半。在城裡你要是請他們來喝茶，會讓人覺得他們和身上穿的服裝很不搭，還有他們用湯匙攪茶水也攪太久了吧。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我被人愛過，幸福曾經那麼靠近我，似乎近到與我比肩相鄰；然而我活得太過閒散，我沒盡力瞭解自己，不知道自己在期待什麼，也不知道想要從生活中得到什麼，而時間卻已經走過流過⋯⋯從我身邊經過了懷著愛慕的人們，閃過明亮的日與溫暖的夜，傳過夜鶯鳴唱，以及乾草芬芳 － 這一切在回憶中多麼可愛又教人讚歎，但卻從我和所有人身邊疾速走過，了無痕跡，還沒受到珍惜就像霧一樣消逝了⋯⋯ 這一切都跑到哪裡去了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;燈火&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;就我能批評自己的程度來看，這樣的思想本身有某種吸入會導致麻痹的東西，像煙草或嗎啡，它成了習慣和需要。無論孤單或舒適時候的每分每秒，我都不停歇地以這種生活本無益呵護伺候徒黯然的思維方式來滿足自己意識形態的淫慾。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;理性優勢地控制了我們身上的感性。直接的感覺、靈感 － 這一切都被膚淺的理性分析所掩蓋了。理性所在之處便有冷漠，而冷漠的人，犯錯也沒甚麼好隱瞞的，他們不知道純潔為何物，這樣的美德只有親切熱心又能愛的人才會知悉。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;在感情事上，誓言和承諾幾乎是促成生理需求的兩項要素，少了這些就搞不定。下次，儘管你知道自己在騙人，也知道承諾沒必要，而你終究還是會發誓和承諾的。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;我記得送她到街上時，我還在路邊溫柔又真誠地愛撫她一陣子。有這麼一瞬間，我突然感到一股無法抑制的憐惜，她是那麼忘我地信任我，讓我決定要帶她一起去彼季戈爾斯克，但我想起自己皮箱裡只有六百盧布，而且等到秋天再想跟她分手的話比現在更是難上加難了，於是我急忙壓抑住這股憐惜。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6313268214895997367?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6313268214895997367/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6313268214895997367' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6313268214895997367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6313268214895997367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/cheknov.html' title='《帶小狗的女士》Cheknov'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1059594053757749237</id><published>2011-04-21T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T12:23:44.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>265</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;到我看不到的那裡去吧&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /&gt;我已做好準備&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;足以離開你265遍。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1059594053757749237?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1059594053757749237/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1059594053757749237' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1059594053757749237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1059594053757749237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/265.html' title='265'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8715477700906677405</id><published>2011-04-21T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T11:04:37.310-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>本能</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;當我們之中不再存有想像和祕密，再沒有逃亡與鬥爭的主體、遊戲的場域，好的壞的得到的得不到的三七二十一，一一被鋪平，原來如此，如此而已。剩下舌頭、腸子、生殖器與其製造的，算計，利用，互利，自我放棄。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8715477700906677405?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8715477700906677405/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8715477700906677405' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8715477700906677405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8715477700906677405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post_2836.html' title='本能'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6626034982199826701</id><published>2011-04-21T10:55:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T12:00:39.508-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>預感</title><content type='html'>我還夢見我遇見你和你素行良好的妻&lt;br /&gt;她衣著乾淨整齊&lt;br /&gt;夢見你帶著絕症激烈而痛苦的死去&lt;br /&gt;並不感到可惜。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6626034982199826701?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6626034982199826701/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6626034982199826701' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6626034982199826701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6626034982199826701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post_4002.html' title='預感'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6290015979217559456</id><published>2011-04-21T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T10:52:19.744-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>漠然</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;某些人抱得了你的身體&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;某些人抱得了你的心&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;個人有個人的才藝&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;像只有某些頻率震動你&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;你喜歡某些人的自由&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;和某些人的獻祭&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;若無法擁有全部美麗&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;便頭也不回將其遺棄&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;只有他自己可以摧毀自己&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;自此以後都是很普通的事情&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;只有他自己可以摧毀自己&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;二十日後你對幻滅心存感激。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6290015979217559456?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6290015979217559456/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6290015979217559456' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6290015979217559456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6290015979217559456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post_21.html' title='漠然'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4743077558499500813</id><published>2011-04-18T16:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:45:49.400-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《初戀》屠格涅夫</title><content type='html'>... 在她充滿生命力又美麗的外表下有某種格外迷人的特質，揉合了狡黠、造作與單純、安靜與活潑。她的所作所為和舉手投足都洋溢著某種細緻靈巧的魅力，散發出獨樹一幟又無比熱情的力量。她的表情無時無刻在變換，可以同時表現出嘲笑、深思與熱情。她的眼睛與雙唇不時掠過各式各樣的情緒：輕快的、稍縱即逝的，就像天晴多風的日子裡雲層投下的陰影。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4743077558499500813?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4743077558499500813/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4743077558499500813' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4743077558499500813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4743077558499500813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post_18.html' title='《初戀》屠格涅夫'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8572094281117433914</id><published>2011-04-16T14:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T14:56:21.379-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>你說你會褪下所有衣衫</title><content type='html'>你不願意接受任何一點點&lt;br /&gt;要就一定要是全面&lt;br /&gt;你會回頭啃噬那些弓箭&lt;br /&gt;若它們開始期待某天&lt;br /&gt;你說你會出現在某個雨夜&lt;br /&gt;當他的眼神令你失眠&lt;br /&gt;一語不發褪下所有衣衫&lt;br /&gt;躺在他桌子上面&lt;br /&gt;你猜想背上那塊東西是個橡皮&lt;br /&gt;或是其它甚麼你得集中精神不要分心&lt;br /&gt;因為你正獻上自己&lt;br /&gt;像一條上岸的魚&lt;br /&gt;因為你正赤身露體&lt;br /&gt;就等他覆蓋上去&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;胸口有點涼意&lt;br /&gt;雙腿呼喚著像鯨魚哀鳴&lt;br /&gt;你正赤身露體&lt;br /&gt;就等他覆蓋上去。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8572094281117433914?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8572094281117433914/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8572094281117433914' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8572094281117433914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8572094281117433914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html' title='你說你會褪下所有衣衫'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-3021242358043090359</id><published>2011-04-16T14:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T14:44:41.726-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>他</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;走過冰河&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;走過沙漠&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;走過革命的街道&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;皸裂的黃土地&lt;br /&gt;你說你信任腳上的靴&lt;br /&gt;他在家裡看紀錄片。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;而那些讓你寫詩的並不讀詩&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;讓你受傷的刀刃並不鋒利&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;猶如在淺灘窒息 對著春風崩壞&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;你有點有趣。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;那些殺死你的都並不致命。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-3021242358043090359?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/3021242358043090359/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=3021242358043090359' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3021242358043090359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3021242358043090359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/04/416.html' title='他'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5201595466617244059</id><published>2011-03-30T11:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:46:08.822-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《失落的愛》 Un Profil Perdu - Sagan</title><content type='html'>11&lt;br /&gt;無論如何，與其和彬彬有禮的陌生男子一起品嘗蛋糕，倒不如蓬頭散髮，在地氈上受憤怒與悲傷的折磨，面對同樣痛苦的同年男子，對我更合適些。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;121&lt;br /&gt;他們是死的，他們只能靠自己的財產或名望而活，我認為他們是危險人物。和他們接觸就會受到束縛，會變為憂鬱。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;128&lt;br /&gt;他問“愛我嗎？”這話意味著“不相信你愛我，我知道你愛我，你為甚麼喜歡我？不可能不愛我以及我愛你”等等。我想問他在甚麼地方，想要他說明房間的情況，從窗口看見甚麼？今天做了甚麼？但我不能問。再過一些時候，等他的存在增加記憶的重量再問。現在他只是我的一夜男人，在黑暗中看他的時候比白天多。他對於我是燃燒的肉體、仰天的側臉、黎明時分看見的側面相。他是一團溫暖、三條視線、一種重量、四篇文章。而最重要的是，他是我的情人。然而，我不記得他的毛衣眼色和轎車顏色。他怎樣開車，如何在煙灰缸內揉息香煙，我都不記得。我們一分鐘都沒有睡，所以也不知道他怎樣睡覺。不過，他在快樂中的臉和聲音，我知道。在這領域、這快樂的寬闊領域裡，我知道我們尚有無數的事等著去發現，例如兩人依偎著躺臥的幾千畝田園、或草原，我們點了火，然後非撲滅不可的火災。我知道他和我都不會厭倦，我無法想像這雙重的飢餓減輕的時期。當他說：那麼，禮拜六。我就回答：好，禮拜六。恰像船遭難的兩個人在說“陸地”，又像墜入地獄的兩個人驚歎地這樣呼喚地獄。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;142&lt;br /&gt;我對他，也對我自己感到羞恥。對我們兩個在一起的密度頗厚的緊張感到羞恥。加上他的手只是輕輕放在我肩上，而且要放下時，似乎有些遲疑的樣子。他的臉有些抽搐，呼吸有些急促。我們彼此沒有進入對方眼睛的視線內，我覺得自己的臉和他的臉同樣赤裸，和他的臉同樣一動不動，叫喚著“你”、“你”。為愛而憔悴的臉龐，凝固的灰色行星，交織的眼光中，默然流動的海，以及緊閉的嘴唇深淵。在我們額角跳動的青色靜脈，是不相稱的時代錯誤。那是我們錯覺地以為存在、相愛、睡覺，但彼此尚未認識的時候，固執的想法。我在認識他以前，以為太陽是溫暖的，絲綢是柔軟的，海水是鹹的。我做了長時間的夢，雖然想到過年紀已經漸大，但我並沒有出生。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;144&lt;br /&gt;我們的愛裡面，有兩匹優秀的馬，兩匹看到自己的影子而驚訝的忠實、喜歡風與黑暗的純種馬。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;160&lt;br /&gt;在戀愛冒險頻仍的我的人生中，第一次對這種可能性產生希望。我要在一棟房屋與路易、狗，和孩子生活在一起。... 暴風雨、狩獵和逃亡的人生，將要以幸福結束。我的角色終於要改變，從被狂亂的獵人追捕的狩獵角色，逃入親密的森林，溫柔親愛的動物們，也就是丈夫、孩子和我們飼養的動物們將一起來避難、吃東西、喝水。我再也不會被反反覆覆檢討、撕裂，我將變成浴著陽光的林間空地和流水，我的家人將前來喝人類的溫柔之乳。由於這最後的冒險無法想像結尾，所以覺得也許會比以前更危險。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5201595466617244059?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5201595466617244059/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5201595466617244059' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5201595466617244059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5201595466617244059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/03/un-profil-perdu-sagan.html' title='《失落的愛》 Un Profil Perdu - Sagan'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7628344501975613175</id><published>2011-03-19T21:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:46:38.081-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《我們在此相遇》Here is Where We Meet - John Berger</title><content type='html'>我們只能給予已經給予的東西。我們所能給予的，都是已經屬於別人的東西！Jorge Luis Borges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geneve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;想要在別人指定的地方尋找生命的意義，只是一種徒勞。唯有在祕密當中，才能挖掘到意義。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Krakow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;109&lt;br /&gt;每個喜劇演員都在扮演受害者，這個受害者必須贏得所有買票觀眾的心，而那些觀眾也都是受害者。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他來到前台，伸出他的雙手，像是站在悲劇的邊緣般，乞求協助：人生是件非常困難的事，你永遠無法在活著的時候想通它！當他在一個美好的夜晚說出這句話時，整棟屋子裡的人都把自己交到他的手掌心。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;115&lt;br /&gt;關於精通這件事，總是有某種悲傷，難以形容的悲傷，我回答。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Islington&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;139&lt;br /&gt;醒來時，柯蕾特正在烤土司，一邊把茶倒進杯子裡；她和我則四肢交纏，緊緊相黏。這沒嚇到我們，因為我和她都意識到某件更令人驚訝的事：那個晚上，我們在彼此的性慾中入睡，不是為了滿足它，或否認它，而是順從著一種直到今天依然很難命名的欲望。沒有任何臨床敘述符合那欲望。也許它只會發生在1943年春天的倫敦。我們發現，我倆的手臂擺出一種一起離開的姿勢，一種流放他鄉的姿勢。我們像正在滑雪或滑滑板那樣把彼此結合在一起。目的地並不重要。每一次出發，都是為了前往性感之帶。我們用每一回的舔噬把距離餵養給彼此。肌膚相觸的每個部位，全都許諾了一條地平線。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;141&lt;br /&gt;我起得很早，很早。我想，我把窗戶關上，是因為在每一個新的一天來臨時。我需要某種保護。因為有些時候，我需要平靜的清晨，這樣我才有辦法去面對它。每一天，你都得決定不讓自己被擊敗。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;143&lt;br /&gt;我們沒變成愛人，我們甚至連朋友也不是，我們沒甚麼共同點。我對馬沒興趣，她對新聞自由不關心。在藝術學校交錯而過時，我們無話可說。但這並不困擾我們。我們交換輕吻，在肩膀或頸背，但從不在嘴唇，我們繼續各走各的路，就像一對老夫婦恰巧在同一所學校工作那樣。然而黑夜一旦降臨，只要我們有時間，我們就會碰面做同一件事：在彼此的臂膀中度過整晚，像這樣，離開，前往他鄉。一而再地不斷重複。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;然後，隨著我們的種種姿勢變得越來越長、越來越慢，我們聽任對方單獨睡去，兩具身體考慮著彼此所能給予對方的最無法想像的距離，然後我們離開。早上，我們默默無言。我們無法開口。若不是她起身去洗頭，就是我走到床腳窗邊，眺望著下方的柯倫遊樂場，任她把我的褲子丢過來。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Szum and the Ching &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;181&lt;br /&gt;我常覺得，路標像是在說童話故事 － 之字路，跳躍鹿，十字路，鐵路平交道，圓環，落石，險升坡，漫步牛，危險轉角。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;這些警告的內容，如果和人生可能遭遇的危險比起來，似乎是簡單容易到令人心安。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;194&lt;br /&gt;是甚麼把我們湊在一起？表面上是好奇心作祟 － 我們兩個幾乎每一方面都天差地遠，包括年齡。我們之間有太多的第一次。然而把我們拉在一起的更深層原因，是同一種心照不宣的悲傷。沒有自憐的成份。只要她在我身上感受到任何一絲自憐的痕跡，她會立刻把它腐蝕掉。而我，如我說過的，我愛她的自信，自信與自憐是無法相容的。我們的悲傷，像是滿月之犬的瘋狂嚎叫。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;基於不同原因，我們兩人都認為，風格必然與帶點希望活著有關，而你要不是活在希望中，就是活在絕望裡。沒有中間路線。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;風格？一種確信的輕盈。排除某種行動或反應的羞恥感。一種確定的優雅比例。相信在任何事物裡都可尋找或找到某種旋律。然而，風格是脆弱的。它來自內在。你無法從外面得到它。風格和流行或許做著同樣的夢，但它們的創造方式截然不同。風格是關於看不見的承諾。正因如此，它需要一種忍耐的才能，一種對於時間的自在，它也會反過來助長這種才能與自在，風格非常接近音樂。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;202&lt;br /&gt;最讓米雷克微笑的事，就是那些能打破日常生活管理與厭煩規則的聰明樂趣，而當他的嘴角因微笑而咧過頭時，就會爆為歡聲。他有偷獵者的眼睛和想像力。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;226&lt;br /&gt;放學後我會和他說話，我們之間發明了一種語言，獨一無二的語言，既非波蘭語也非俄語，不是立陶宛語、法語或德語，是一種除了我倆之外沒人會說的語言；也許每一份愛都能發明一種辭彙，都能打造一處掩體躲藏其下。和他在一起，我找到一種永生難忘的東西。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;239&lt;br /&gt;演說時，他的聲音聽起來很睿智。他有雙敏銳的眼睛，而反覆講頌的次數還沒多到讓他志得意滿。他很清楚，他所主持的每一場婚姻，都是在一張錯綜複雜的網絡裡取得同意，由算計、慾望、恐懼、賄賂與愛交織而成的網羅，因為這就是婚姻契約的本質。然而，每一次他給自己定下的任務，就是去找出這張羅網裡的純粹部份。他像個獵人一樣走進森林，開始追蹤純粹，把它從掩蔽處誘勸出來，讓在場的所有賓客，尤其是那對新人，能認識它。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;這不是容易的工作，即使是碰到男女雙方不計一切、瘋狂陷入戀愛的罕見情況，這工作也未必更容易，因為當欲望相互滋長成熱情的時候，往往就成了這兩人對抗冷酷世界的一種陰謀，而他無可避免的會瞥見到，這樣的欲望顯然是被上帝摒棄的。他所尋找的純粹線索當然永遠存在，他的困難之處在於，純粹一旦被人發現，必然會立刻躲回去。你很難像戴絲皮娜悄悄靠近狼群那樣偷偷接近純粹。蕭邦曾在幾首媽祖卡舞曲中做到，還有 Sappho 的幾闕斷殘詩。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;249&lt;br /&gt;音樂追尋的是欲望的純粹，是打渴盼與承諾之間穿過的純粹：可以比生命的懲罰更長壽，或至少略勝一籌的令人慰藉的承諾。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;欲望是短暫的 － 幾小時或一輩子，都是短暫的。欲望是短暫的，因為它是為了違抗永恆而生。它在對抗死亡的爭鬥中挑戰時間。而跳舞，正是這樣的挑戰。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;這裡只有一位新娘，一位新郎，但卻有好幾百場婚禮；記得的，真實的，懊悔的，想像的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;264&lt;br /&gt;總是有很多東西沒有名字。在那個像翻過來的小船的房間裡，我告訴自己，那些上了亮漆牆面的木紋，是某種無以名之的地圖，我試著把它記在心裡，相信有一天會用得到。無名的領域並非無形。我得在裡面找到自己的路 － 就像在一團漆黑但有著堅硬傢具和尖銳物件的房間裡一樣。反正，我所知道和我所預感到的大多數東西，都是無以名之的，或說，它們的名字都像我還沒讀過的一整本書那樣長。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... 到處都有痛苦。而，比痛苦更持久且鋒利的是，到處都有懷抱期望的等待。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... 指望，是祕密趨近某件事物的方法，那些此刻不被指望的事物。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... 自由並不慈愛。&lt;br /&gt;沒甚麼是完整的，沒甚麼是完成的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... 微笑邀請幸福，但它們沒透露是哪種幸福。&lt;br /&gt;在人類的屬性中，永不匱乏的脆弱，是其中最珍貴的。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7628344501975613175?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7628344501975613175/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7628344501975613175' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7628344501975613175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7628344501975613175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/03/here-is-where-we-meet-john-berger.html' title='《我們在此相遇》Here is Where We Meet - John Berger'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5944441133954380846</id><published>2011-02-22T11:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T11:45:02.167-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>L'Allure De Chanel - Paul Morand</title><content type='html'>1&lt;br /&gt;孤獨錘鍊出我的個性，讓我擁有暴躁、冷酷又傲慢的靈魂和強健的身體。我的一生，是一個孤獨女人的故事；這故事通常是一個悲劇。這故事關乎她的不幸與偉大，關乎她所堅持的抗爭 － 她和自己、和男人的抗爭，她和隨時隨地可能碰上的誘惑、危險和脆弱的抗爭。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;孤獨，在今天這個雪域的陽光中⋯⋯ 我仍然無夫無子、沒有任何迷人的幻想 － 那些幻影讓我們相信這世界上住著和我們同樣的人，他們同樣孤獨地工作，孤獨地生活。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;br /&gt;出於一種渴望、一種對生活極其強烈的渴望，以及被愛的需要，我對一切說不。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3&lt;br /&gt;每段回憶都該有個繞富寓意的結論，這才是回憶存在的理由，否則回憶只是一段無稽之談。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4&lt;br /&gt;Colette： 愛情並不是一種體面的感情。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5&lt;br /&gt;因為米希亞所愛之地，都會寸草不生。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 &lt;br /&gt;我和伊里布的關係充滿激情。你要知道我有多討厭激情！激情實在讓人厭惡，真是可怕的疾病！激情的人就像田徑運動員，不知飢寒、不知疲倦，他倚靠奇蹟而活。激情是每天的 Lourdes朝聖 － 你看看那位癱瘓的老婦人，當她得到自己想要的東西時，她會邁著像二十歲時的腳步衝下樓梯。激情的人會忽視外在情況，忽視其它人，他們把別人都視為工具，對他人毫無敬重之意。對激情的人而言，別人的時間、幸福和權利都不存在；他有螞蟻的耐性和大象的力氣，他不知阻礙為何，凡事都做到絕。激情與恐懼都是病態的極點，激情的人可以為了滿足自己的怪癖而叫醒共和國的總統，他還會毫不猶豫地幹下各種壞事，而且睡的心安理得。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 &lt;br /&gt;我憎恨有產者。我更不想再看到自己借出去的金錢、書籍和物品。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我只珍惜一些愚蠢或無用之物，因為詩意就隱藏在這些東西裡。這世界所有情感面、社會面的不幸，都源於我們甚麼都緊握在手，不肯放棄。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8&lt;br /&gt;是的，上流社會的人比任何人都讓我開心，他們帶給我歡樂，他們有思想、知分寸，他們懂得一種迷人的背信忘義，一種上等階級的灑脫，一種非常明顯、非常尖刻的傲慢，而且總是處在警戒狀態。他們知道何時應該退場，何時該退出。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9&lt;br /&gt;國王消失了，但高級妓女依然存在。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 &lt;br /&gt;她們就是這樣注定得忍受屈辱。她們的腳在桌底下尋找另一個男人的腳，如果有哪個男人沒把腳縮回，她們就會覺得異常幸福，但她們卻抱怨自己沒人愛！&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11&lt;br /&gt;冷硬的鏡子裡倒映出我性格的冷硬，那是我和鏡子之間的激烈爭鬥。這爭鬥反映了我精明、效率、樂觀、積極、現實、好鬥、幽默且多疑的性格，這性格就展現了我的法國色彩。最終在我黃褐色的眼睛裡浮現了靈魂的出口；在那裡，我看見自己是一個女人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;一個可憐的女人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12&lt;br /&gt;太富有或太高大都是件可怕的事。第一種情況下，你難以找到幸福；第二種情況下，你找不到合適的床鋪。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13&lt;br /&gt;我這一生不過是一段童年時光的無限延展。我們在童年裡看到了命運，而詩意在命運裡扮演它該有的角色。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14&lt;br /&gt;我身上呈現許多只有自己才感興趣的衝突對比，但我對這些對比卻又習以為常。我只喜歡最羞怯又最大膽、最快樂或最哀傷的人。我本人並不強烈，而是這些個性對比太過強烈，這些強烈的對比在我小小的身軀內不停衝撞。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15&lt;br /&gt;我發明了令人贊歎而且有用的東西，這些發明曾讓一些人變得貧乏，也讓一些人看來富有，但兩種狀況都讓我覺得噁心。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…  &lt;br /&gt;這一切都讓我非常開心，這一切都滿足了我對破壞和變化的興趣。人在生命支離破碎之際才能了解生命，這世界不過是一場鬥爭和混亂。我會死的很慘，因為只要一到九泉之下，我就會開始焦躁不安。我只想回到人間，捲土重來。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5944441133954380846?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5944441133954380846/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5944441133954380846' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5944441133954380846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5944441133954380846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/02/lallure-de-chanel-paul-morand.html' title='L&apos;Allure De Chanel - Paul Morand'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5097098055801591098</id><published>2011-02-01T06:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:47:01.897-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《心靈守護者》Sagan</title><content type='html'>在一個夜晚，在一張床上，總會出現一個時刻，在這時刻當中，和你共同分享夜晚和睡床的男人要比世上其它一切更來得親近。沒有人能讓我持相反意見...... 在我即將尋找往事的情況下，我將無法忍受眼前擁有的任何事。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我想著：法蘭克的臉永遠不會再讓太陽曬紅了，而他是這麼喜歡太陽。我們對死者相當吝嗇：人一死便把他放在緊緊密封的黑盒子裡，然後埋在底下。我們就這樣把死者甩掉。要不然，我們替死者化妝，把死者的面孔變個模樣，把死者放在暗淡的燈光下展覽，把死者凝固成另一種形態。我倒覺得應該把死者放在太陽底下十分鐘，把死者帶到海邊（假使他生前喜歡海的話），送泥土給他們，最後一次，然後再讓他們永遠和泥土混合再一起。可是並非如此：我們為他們的過世而懲罰他們。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“... 這麼虛偽的人絕無僅有。我從來就不希望某個人死去，但我簡直希望他死掉。對我而言，他是唯一一個。”&lt;br /&gt;我的話就這樣結束。&lt;br /&gt;路易漫不經心說道：親愛的，那是因為你不夠嚴格，一定還有其它人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我圈住他的脖子，撫摸他的頭髮，吻他的太陽穴，心裡很難過，就跟面對一個傷心的小孩一樣。因為靠在我身上哭泣的是一個小孩，一個遭受人生打擊的小孩。我低聲說一些類似這樣的含糊話：“好了，別這樣，你靜下來，這沒甚麼。”我在地上半蹲半跪，脖子上還承受一個男人的體重，我開始覺得小腿肚有點抽筋。這種戲不是給我這種年齡的女人演的。他需要一個年輕純潔的女子，讓他對人生再度產生樂趣或者是信心。而我呢，我很清楚人生是怎樣的，我太清楚了。他終於平靜下來。我讓他慢慢地從我身上滑下去，讓他躺在地毯上。我替他蓋了一件厚呢被子，然後上樓睡覺，筋疲力盡。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;說來說去，容易感到幸福是可怕的。幸福是很具有強迫性的，跟憂鬱一樣，我們無法逃避。當我們沈浸在煩惱中，我們掙扎，自衛，受一個念頭糾纏，而突然之間，幸福就像一顆小石頭，或者像一道迅疾而至的陽光一樣打在你的額頭上，我們禁不住放開一切，高興地去享受生活的樂趣。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5097098055801591098?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5097098055801591098/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5097098055801591098' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5097098055801591098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5097098055801591098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/02/sagan.html' title='《心靈守護者》Sagan'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2695081613149989684</id><published>2011-01-21T08:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T22:38:54.378-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>1Q84 - Haruki Murakami</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;Book 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“不過不管是菜單也好，其它的甚麼也好，我們覺得好像是自己在選似的，其實或許甚麼也沒有選。那可能是一開始就已經決定的事，只是做出讓你選擇的&lt;b&gt;樣子&lt;/b&gt;而已。說甚麼自由意志，可能只是自我陶醉而已。我有時會這樣想。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“如果是這樣，人生就相當陰暗了。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“也許吧。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“不過如果能打心裡愛一個人的話，不管是多麼糟糕的對象，就算對方並沒有愛自己，至少人生還不是地獄。就算有幾分陰暗。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“就是這樣。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;’不過啊，青豆姊。我這樣想，這個世界呀，既不講理，也相當不親切。“&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;”也許是，不過事到如今也不能更改。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“早就已經過了退貨期限了。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“連收據都丟了。”&lt;br /&gt;“真的是。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“不過，沒關係。這樣的世界一轉眼就會結束的。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“這樣想起來，就很快樂。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“然後王國就要來臨了。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“我等不及了。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"&gt;Book 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“不過你應該有以為喜歡的男人對嗎？”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“是的。不過我和那個人在現實中結合的可能性，無限接近零。因此就算我在這裡死掉了，因而失去的，也只有無限接近零而已。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“你認為自己不會和那個男人結合，有甚麼具體理由嗎？”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“並沒有特別理由。”青豆說。“除了我是我以外。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“你不打算對他，做甚麼努力嗎？”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;青豆搖頭。“對我來說最重要的是，自己在心裡深深地需要他這個事實。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“你這個人想法非常乾脆。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“因為有這個必要。不是因為喜歡而這樣做的。”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;不是所有的槍都要發射&lt;/b&gt;，青豆一面淋浴一面對自己這樣說。槍只不過是工具而已。而且我也不是活在故事的世界。而是一個充滿破綻，缺乏整合性，盡是虎頭蛇尾的現實世界。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;人要活下去必須擁有這種東西。言語無法適當說明卻擁有意義的情景。有些時候我們是為了要好好說明那&lt;b&gt;甚麼&lt;/b&gt;而活著的。我這樣想。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;去找青豆吧，天吾重新下定決心。不管發生甚麼，不管那是甚麼樣的世界，不管她變成誰。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"&gt;Book 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;那間公寓住了各種人。住戶階級從年輕的單身上班族、大學生、有小孩的夫婦、到獨居老人等形形色色都有。人們毫無防備地從望遠鏡頭的視野中穿過。就算年代和境遇多少有別，但看來他們都各自疲於生活，對人生感到厭倦了。希望褪色了、野心遺忘了、感性磨損了，只剩下放棄和無感覺盤據了剩餘的空白。他們簡直像兩小時前才剛做過拔牙手術的人似的，臉色蒼白腳步沈重。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;當然那也許是牛河的誤解。或許有人對人生其實還滿懷喜悅。打開門一看，或許裡面營造成儼然令人倒抽一口氣似的個人樂園。或許有人是為了逃避稅務署的調查而刻意假裝過著樸素生活也不一定。當然這都不是沒有可能。不過透過相機的望遠鏡頭看來，他們只是緊緊攀住即將拆除的廉價公寓，無法翻身的都市生活者而已。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;也許。我當然很清楚，那裡有危險。或許最好就那樣跑到甚麼地方逃走算了。雖然如此我還是毫無辦法地被那裡應該有的祕密所吸引。就像如果有黑暗的入口，貓無論如何還是非要往裡頭窺探不可一樣。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2695081613149989684?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2695081613149989684/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2695081613149989684' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2695081613149989684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2695081613149989684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/01/1q84-haruki-murakami.html' title='1Q84 - Haruki Murakami'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6381823270731005387</id><published>2011-01-10T02:42:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:47:28.518-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《微笑》Sagan</title><content type='html'>我們躺在床上調情說愛，在黑暗中一過幾小時，我是夠快樂的了。但是，在我的內心裡好像有一條蟲，有一頭野獸。我有一種厭煩、寂寞，和偶然開心的感覺。我想一定是我的生活上有了毛病。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;當我看見他，我又想起他，但是這次卻帶著點刺痛，那就是他特別英俊。這真的傷害了我，像一切我不能佔有的東西一樣。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我們身體上模糊的幸福，對我來說，是令人懷疑的恩惠。我回想這些理由，覺得只是一次玩笑，也是我生命上最重要的事情。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我一直讀到黃昏，丟開書本，頭枕在臂上，注視著天空由紫變灰。突然我覺得孤苦無助。我的生命正在消逝，而我除了戲弄自己，無事可做。噢！如果有一張臉貼在我的臉上，如果有一個人用所有的愛，壓在我身上的話！我的哀愁，不能使我欣賞那些幸運的人們，在戀愛中的快樂。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“我怕。”我向洛克說。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他沒有笑，只是握著我的手。我希望他永遠這樣，沈默、嚴肅、保護、溫柔。他永遠不離開我，他會說他愛我，把我抱在懷裡。他停了腳步，真的抱住了我。我貼在他身上，閉起眼睛。在這一瞬間，所有最近的這些日子，都不再存在。他的手捧著我的臉，柔軟、溫和的嘴，正適合我的嘴。當我們接吻的時候，他的手指緊緊抓著我的臉，我的胳膊繞在他的脖子上。我恐懼自己，恐懼他，恐懼一切不屬於這一瞬間的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我真喜歡他的嘴。他吻我，一句話也沒有說，偶然會抬起頭來換口氣。在這半明半暗的光線中，我看見他的臉在我的臉上面，他心不在焉，可是同時也集中精力，像一副面具。然後他又轉向我，即刻我又再看不清他的面貌，於是我閉上眼睛。這時我的太陽穴，眼皮、胸脯、全流過一股熱。我有一種非常新奇的感覺，那不是匆忙，或慾望的急躁，只是快樂、沈著、和混亂。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我要死，我確定我會死，可是沒有死，我只是暈過去了。沒有甚麼嚴重，誰能夠永遠記住這些事情呢？&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6381823270731005387?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6381823270731005387/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6381823270731005387' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6381823270731005387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6381823270731005387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2011/01/sagan.html' title='《微笑》Sagan'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4085415523169465072</id><published>2010-12-12T00:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T00:14:35.442-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>走樣</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;我無法找出一個合宜的說法解釋我自己。我無法解釋為什麼我是這樣的。我無法解釋為什麼我不愛那些適合我的角色。我無法解釋為什麼我對一切毫不在意﹐無法解釋為何一切毫無意義。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;四年前的自己不認識我﹐四年前的自己並沒想過今天來到這裡的是這個我。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;剛開始我只是跳過一些場次而已﹐然後整個戲便走樣了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;也或許它沒有走樣﹐是我走樣了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;這裡沒有一個地方是我的 / 沒有什麼真的是我的 / 人從來不可能真正擁有什麼 / 或被擁有 / 但我想要的是這麼多於是什麼都不要了 / 我不知道我要什麼 / 我不知道我能要什麼 / 讓那些要的去要吧 / 沒有了 / 都沒有關係 / 我想要相信些什麼 / 但相信不相信我 / 非常困倦 / 不可收拾 /某個時候開始 / 我一直悲傷著 /是我不好但我好不起來。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;：我們可以永遠不要再見但別說我們要分離。不說我就可以相信我們並沒有分離。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;但她一直在婉轉的告別，在最愛的時候輕聲告訴自己：這很好，但這樣就夠了。因為沒有甚麼會 一 直 好 下 去。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;因為都好過。然後就不好了。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;＊&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;一點點的，閉上眼睛。一點點地變 得 &amp;nbsp;透 &amp;nbsp; 明。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4085415523169465072?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4085415523169465072/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4085415523169465072' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4085415523169465072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4085415523169465072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/12/blog-post_12.html' title='走樣'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5717238238924447389</id><published>2010-12-05T00:48:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:47:52.135-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《我是許涼涼》李維菁</title><content type='html'>92 &lt;br /&gt;我寧願記得一些小小時間片刻﹐一些我想起來幾乎微笑的小小小小事﹐仿彿那些細微不足道的小小小小事情當時發出的光澤與令人心顫的微笑震動﹐至今還留在我眼睛裡頭﹐還存在我皮膚細胞隙縫。那些嗡嗡作響蜂鳴般的磁力的剎那。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;94&lt;br /&gt;我對眼前的障礙與事實的局限視若無睹﹐其實不是因為我具備無畏的勇氣能夠挑戰既定的價值和眼光﹐實情是﹐我根本不懂規矩與合宜究竟是什麼﹐我有情緒反應的延遲模式﹐我以為每一種愛到最後都可以變成為美好的愛﹐我之所以看起了勇氣十足總是向前﹐是因為我眼中界限總是消融於彼此以及自我欺瞞。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;123&lt;br /&gt;我看著他那樣寂寞想找人說話﹐便決定我以後千萬不要變得同樣難堪。這世界上沒有人真的喜歡聽其他人的回憶﹐沒有人真的在意其他人的過去﹐沒有人真的珍惜別人的感覺。這世界的現實是這樣的﹐人們在關係中若提到過去﹐往往是拿過去作為現在某種交換的籌碼。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我想像著他此刻半閉上眼睛。他說﹐人生其實沒有什麼是需要跟人家談的﹐一點也沒有﹐我告訴自己要把嘴巴閉上﹐沉默可以帶來尊嚴。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;152&lt;br /&gt;溫柔不代表軟弱﹐殘忍不是粗暴。那些人們誤以為大器的男人﹐常常只是粗暴﹐粗暴不一定精準﹐畢竟不是殘忍﹐殘忍一定要精準。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;220&lt;br /&gt;那些看起來純真﹐沒有性威脅﹐善體人意的﹐其實多半是包裹著少女外表的成熟女性﹐她們清清楚楚知道世界﹐現實的結構﹐因此可以純熟操作男女政治不著痕跡﹐才能談場愛戀仍舊風度優雅﹐全身而退。真正的少女們總是壞事﹐因為她們想要一份徹底的愛。然而這世界存活下來的男獸﹐身與心早已沒有餘裕﹐愛的把戲十足﹐愛的力氣不足。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;但你怎麼能夠苛責少女﹖少女不正是如此嗎﹖只有強烈的對愛之憧憬﹐才生出想要改變世界的力量﹐可以與宇宙為敵﹐正是少女的力量之所在。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;傷過心的少女們﹐自此永遠生活在現實與夢幻的交叉點... 恍恍於人間渡過悠悠時日。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;少女的時間感與一般人不同。少女常常固在人生的某一時間點﹐並且只活在裡頭。能力強些的少女﹐則常將青春美境與黯淡現實交混一起過日。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有個少女住在心裡的感受﹐其實相當驚悚﹐疼痛。面對人生的挫敗﹐你常常怪起她來﹐這個寄局在你身體裡頭不切實際的小女孩﹐正是搞砸你人生的罪魁禍首。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;少女讓你在人生中躊躇不前﹐少女讓你一再跌跤﹐少女不肯讓你變老。幾次你都下定決心殺了少女﹐自此當一個大人了。但是﹐就在你準備好要變老的關口﹐少女哭喊淒厲如同女鬼﹐一再跳出來阻止你的人生進程。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;少女因等待而感傷﹐你在捷運車廂望著窗外朗朗陽光﹐對著窗外的行人路樹流淚。&lt;br /&gt;少女不喜肉體﹐你只好放棄生兒育女﹐任憑自己雨夜之中四年男女之事而輕輕嘆息。&lt;br /&gt;都是少女搞的鬼。要不是她﹐你的人生不會像列不靠站的公車﹐行經一路變成大人的站牌卻從不下車﹐為了守住一個不會來的未來而一事無成。&lt;br /&gt;有好幾次我只想長大。&lt;br /&gt;夜裡我捧著麵碗對著電視機﹐看著看著突然嚎咷大哭﹐死命捶打胸部。咒罵著少女﹕「滾!快滾!滾出去!」&lt;br /&gt;我覺得﹐少女再不走﹐我就活不下去了。&lt;br /&gt;少女消失了﹐第二天她又回來﹐幽幽地看著我。&lt;br /&gt;我沒說話﹐靜靜地將少女吃下去﹐塞回胸腔。&lt;br /&gt;沒有了你﹐我活著又是為了什麼呢﹖&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;少女善于等待。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5717238238924447389?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5717238238924447389/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5717238238924447389' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5717238238924447389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5717238238924447389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/12/blog-post.html' title='《我是許涼涼》李維菁'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8021166915037875456</id><published>2010-12-04T20:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T20:39:31.073-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>The Easter Parade - Richard Yates</title><content type='html'>然而愛米莉至此還是一滴眼淚也沒有流。回市裡的一路上﹐她都感到心神不安。在車上﹐她把一只手墊在自己的臉部和大轎車冷冷的、顫動著的車窗之間﹐那樣似乎有點用。她試過跟自己低聲說“爸爸”試過閉上眼睛想像他的臉﹐但是都不管用。然後她想到一件事讓她的喉嚨發緊﹕她也許不是爸爸的寶貝﹐可是她一直叫她“小兔子”。這時她不費事就哭了起來﹐讓媽媽伸手過來揣緊了她的手﹐唯一的麻煩﹐是她拿不準自己是為了爸爸而哭﹐還是為了沃倫馬多克或是馬多克斯而哭﹐他現在回到了南卡羅萊納﹐正要被分配到某個師。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;可是她意識到就連那也是謊話﹐她突然停止了哭泣﹕這些眼淚﹐就像她這一輩子裡一貫的情形﹐完全是為了自己而流 - 為了可憐而敏感的愛米莉格蘭姆斯﹐誰也不明白她﹐她也什麼事情都弄不明白。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8021166915037875456?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8021166915037875456/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8021166915037875456' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8021166915037875456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8021166915037875456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/12/easter-parade-richard-yates.html' title='The Easter Parade - Richard Yates'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1050179519403977768</id><published>2010-12-04T19:45:00.017-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T02:44:04.669-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>她們</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;她們抽煙像吹火山灰&lt;/div&gt;喝酒像做體內消毒&lt;br /&gt;她們發出孤獨的小光暈&lt;br /&gt;是召喚愛的營火&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I beg you, my darling&lt;br /&gt;Don't leave me, I'm hurting&lt;br /&gt;Big lonely above everything&lt;br /&gt;Above everyday, I'm hurting”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;結果他也說了。結果我們也相信了。結果也不是這樣。結果也沒有結果。結果還是一樣。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;冰箱裝滿了你沒有很愛吃的東西。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你想像的生活是甚麼？你可以想像五年以後的生活，然後往回推，不就知道了嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我不知道。我想像的這麼多，一些實現了，一些錯過了。曾有過一些模糊印象，但它們過去了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我有許多的好意善意，甚至是愛意。但那都不是意志。不能帶我或任何人去哪裡。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我們能不能擁有我們所能擁有的。全心全意。然後在離去時就離去？我們能不能擁有每一個片刻而不感到悲傷？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他在這裡，為甚麼不呢。你討厭他，但你至少還&lt;b&gt;討厭&lt;/b&gt;他。其它的你連討厭都談不上。他就在這裡，他過來了，至少兩個人裡面有一個人相信著甚麼。至少兩個人裡面有一個人是害怕的。至少兩個人裡面有一個人認真的在說謊。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;＊&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你心裡再次有個隱約的幻想慢慢建立起來，癌細胞一樣的。好像有哪裡可以去。好像有一個人。好像。但沒有。只有你一個人。哪裡也不是⋯⋯&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1050179519403977768?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1050179519403977768/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1050179519403977768' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1050179519403977768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1050179519403977768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/12/blog-post_04.html' title='她們'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7932047789868127239</id><published>2010-11-17T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T11:28:52.978-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>偶然結束</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TOQs2Q-hPII/AAAAAAAADso/IH3j_jFKynM/s1600/bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TOQs2Q-hPII/AAAAAAAADso/IH3j_jFKynM/s400/bike.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;她覺得時間與事件是以多線進行﹐像腦中神經樹突或生物網那模樣﹐驟然離開的場景還會繼續下去﹐有一個她還會在那裡﹐把戲演完﹐給觀眾一個交待。因為每個線索都應該有一種解釋﹐每個場景都有它存在的原因﹐每個出現在場中的物件都&lt;b&gt;象徵&lt;/b&gt;著什麼﹐一切都有所安排的世界沒有偶然。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她這樣想﹐不過那只是想。誰也看不見誰腦裡的世界﹐這才是麻煩的地方﹕她沒法解釋﹐她已經離開那場戲了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;她驚覺沒別人可以代替她。而沒有什麼是她&lt;b&gt;必須&lt;/b&gt;要的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;就像你只能提著一箱行李離開﹐離開前你覺得什麼都需要﹐但其實 - 你什麼也不需要。像那些留在櫥櫃裡的衣服﹐那些留在其它房間的書﹐偶爾你會想起它們 - 但你並不需要它們。永遠有其它衣物﹐其它書﹐其它人...... 一張蜘蛛網破了﹐總能再織一張。而且它甚至沒破。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有什麼結局是&lt;b&gt;絕對完整&lt;/b&gt;的。幾年來慢慢建立的回路﹐撒手而去﹐時間一到總是可以用得上。像條不遠處的高速公路﹐她只需要往那個方向去﹐就可以到其它地方。告示牌上寫著不同路標 - 西西里 四十五公里﹔柏林 七十公里﹔哥本哈根 一百六十公里﹔南極 四千五百六十公里。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7932047789868127239?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7932047789868127239/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7932047789868127239' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7932047789868127239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7932047789868127239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post_17.html' title='偶然結束'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TOQs2Q-hPII/AAAAAAAADso/IH3j_jFKynM/s72-c/bike.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8095192841330654135</id><published>2010-11-12T23:07:00.007-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T19:41:48.204-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>我所想要的都在這裡 Everything I've ever wanted</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TN45Mt7OcBI/AAAAAAAADsc/bX7eEA1lbl4/s1600/write+iin+the+room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="262" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TN45Mt7OcBI/AAAAAAAADsc/bX7eEA1lbl4/s400/write+iin+the+room.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;我是一個郵差﹐你說現在還有這種東西嗎﹖有的。而且這是很久以前。我的日子很簡單﹐早上慢慢的起來﹐慢呼呼地用小壺煮咖啡﹐另一個爐頭用小鍋煮牛奶﹐烤一片吐司。在這一切運作的同時﹐我給貓加水、弄早餐﹐然後捧著煮好的咖啡牛奶﹐吐司上抹些什麼﹐打開報紙﹐對著吃完。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我給我的花草澆水﹐和貓玩玩。然後拉出我的小車﹐把木桌上的信放進車﹐開始送信﹐一整個區﹐30條街。我有時候是推著﹐有時候是拉著。我送信送的很慢﹐每家都聊上幾句﹐通常一個下午就這樣打發。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有時候我會先去買菜﹐在途中做些交換。和誰聊著新菜色和新做法﹐午餐通常就在某家的廚房裡解決。有時候我什麼都不做﹐就是坐在某個地方﹐看著走來走去的人。或是雲。它們都是一樣的。千篇一律﹐卻又變化萬千。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;家裡有我的貓在等我﹐但回家前我得先拿明日得送的信。我滿滿的一車出門﹐滿滿的一車回家。我的貓在等我﹐牠對我說話﹐我一手抱起牠﹐我們在沙發上亂滾一氣。純粹的快樂的時光。我給自己煮晚餐﹐通常是內容豐富的湯﹐滋味無窮﹐貓也喝上一口。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我的情人在週末來看我﹐他在禮拜日晚上離去。那是我最寂寞的時候。我寂寞的時候﹐我就工作。禮拜一我打起精神﹐對每個人微笑。禮拜二我想他。禮拜三我等的有點心焦。禮拜四我開始開心﹐樂得飛飛﹐誰和我說話我都笑著 - 眼睛也笑的那種笑。禮拜五我總是特別漂亮﹐因為晚上他就會來到。我每一刻都滋味無窮似地﹐想他會穿著怎樣的衣裳﹐想著他用什麼表情出現。想著我能做些什麼。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;然後他來了﹐我把自己交給他﹐什麼也不想了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;週日夜我最難過。我最難過的時候﹐身邊放著一杯小酒。我工作。每天我從晚飯後開始﹐把信一一打開看過﹐確定沒什麼不對。然後重新封起﹐像什麼也沒發生。寄信的人和收信的人都知道中間發生了什麼﹐他們不知道與我有關﹐但那並不重要。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我知道每個人的故事。這三十條街。大部份的信都是從牆的另一邊寄來的 - 牆的那邊開了新的電視臺﹐牆的那邊舉辦搖滾演唱會﹐孩子在牆的那邊大學畢業﹐丈夫在牆的那邊重婚了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我的情人也是從牆那邊來的。他總是要我﹐過去吧﹐和他到那。那裡更自由﹐人們可以自由地說自己想說的話﹐做自己想做的工作﹐不用受人安排﹐可以主掌自己命運..... 我也在主掌自己命運﹐我想﹐但我沒有講出口。我只是看著他微笑﹐說﹕我所想要的都在這裡了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;但你不想和我永遠在一起嗎﹖他問。&lt;br /&gt;我們不能就這樣在一起嗎﹖&lt;br /&gt;不是的﹐他說。我是說﹐我&lt;b&gt;總是&lt;/b&gt;能看到你﹐那樣﹐&lt;b&gt;在一起&lt;/b&gt;。 &lt;br /&gt;為什麼一定要那樣呢。我回。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;貓睡著了。貓在呼嚕嚕響。他不在的時候﹐也是很好的。他不在的時候﹐我有時間想他﹐他的存在感更大了。在我感覺他&lt;b&gt;不在&lt;/b&gt;的時候。他不會這樣想。而現在他不說話了。我想他生氣了。或許他有天就不再來了。或許。他也不會寫信。因為他不是會寫信的那種人。他是一個很好的情人﹐但他不太會說謊。我想因為那對他來說不是謊言﹐不過是種省略時間的方法。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;那些時間就遺失了﹐但我心中還有片空白。我想就是那些空白......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;牆的那邊有些生了﹐有些死了。牆這邊的人總在想著&lt;b&gt;那邊&lt;/b&gt;。但和那邊的人想我們的方法是不同的。他們總是要告訴我們那邊發生了什麼新的事情﹐是這裡沒有的。但在我看來都是一樣的。為什麼我們需要這麼多自由呢。我們的時間﹐我們的陽光﹐我們的生命﹐豈不是一樣的嗎。我們的無常。難道他們不是在爭取什麼。爭取到了又有什麼﹖至少我們這邊的想法有個終點 - 我們就想和牆的那邊一樣。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;但他們還要很多別的...... 他們已經有我們所想要的一切了。他們總是還有什麼別的可要。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他或許就不再來了。有一天。但我所想要的都在這裡了。我會忘記他。或是我會想念他﹐像牆這裡的人﹐想著他們所得不到的那裡一樣。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8095192841330654135?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8095192841330654135/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8095192841330654135' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8095192841330654135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8095192841330654135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html' title='我所想要的都在這裡 Everything I&apos;ve ever wanted'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TN45Mt7OcBI/AAAAAAAADsc/bX7eEA1lbl4/s72-c/write+iin+the+room.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6881335297058865384</id><published>2010-11-12T17:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T17:31:29.057-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>When You Are Engulfed in Flames - David Sedaris</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;This Old House &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given enough time, I guess anything can look good.  All it has to do is survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;All the Beauty You Will Ever Need&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it broke my heart to think of him marching across a muddy field with a bouquet in his hand.&amp;nbsp; He does these things that are somehow beyond faggy and seem better suited to some hardscrabble pioneer wife: making jam, say or sewing bedroom curtains out of burlap.&amp;nbsp; Once I caught him down at the riverbank, beating our dirty clothes against a rock.&amp;nbsp; This was before we got a washing machine, but still, he could have laundered things in the tub.&amp;nbsp; "Who are you?" I'd said, and, as he turned, I half expected to see a baby at his breast, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's astonishing the amount of time that certain straight people devote to gay sex - trying to determine what goes where and how often.&amp;nbsp; They can't imagine any system outside their own, and seem obsessed with the idea of roles, both in bed and out of it. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;Memento Mori&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's our mascot," the store manager said.&amp;nbsp; "We couldn't possibly get rid of him."&lt;br /&gt;In America athis translates to "Make me an offer," but in France they really mean it.&amp;nbsp; There are shops in Paris where nothing is for sale, no matter how hard you beg.&amp;nbsp; I think eople get lonely.&amp;nbsp; Their apartments become full, and, rather than rent a storage space, they take over a boutique.&amp;nbsp; Then they sit there in the middle of it, gloating over their fine taste.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;Town and Country&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man was foreign, but I have no idea where he was from.&amp;nbsp; One of those tragic countries, I supposed, a land beset by cobras and typhoons.&amp;nbsp; But that's half the world, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;Old Faithful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd met my first boyfriend in a place called the Man Hole - not the sort of name that suggests fidelity.&amp;nbsp; It was like meeting somone at fisticuffs and then complaining when he turned out to be violent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most likely my father was having some problem at work and needed to remind himself that he was not completely worthless.&amp;nbsp; It sounds like something you'd read on a movie poster: sometimes the sins you haven't committed are all you have to hold on to.&amp;nbsp; If you're really desperate, you might need to grope, saying, for example, "I've never killed anyone &lt;i&gt;with a hamme&lt;/i&gt;r" or "I've never stolen from anyone &lt;i&gt;who didn't deserve it&lt;/i&gt;." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then I looked over at the elderly couple, thinking, &lt;i&gt;See, we're talking witch burnings&lt;/i&gt;!&amp;nbsp; It's work, though, and it's always my work.&amp;nbsp; If I left it up to Hugh, we'd just sit there acting like what we are: two people so familiar with each other they could scream.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6881335297058865384?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6881335297058865384/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6881335297058865384' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6881335297058865384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6881335297058865384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-you-are-engulfed-in-flames-david.html' title='When You Are Engulfed in Flames - David Sedaris'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6060952748623362214</id><published>2010-11-09T11:51:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T20:22:06.265-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>碎片 fragment s</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TNmd5mm0miI/AAAAAAAADro/jxZeD-GclYA/s1600/trapped.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TNmd5mm0miI/AAAAAAAADro/jxZeD-GclYA/s400/trapped.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;1&lt;br /&gt;這應該要結束了。然而我要去哪﹖我不知道自己在這裡做什麼﹐(我的手有些奇怪...... isn't that how it started in nausea?)﹐面前那個人無比熟悉又無比陌生。這應該結束了。但它沒有結束。我不知道怎麼讓它結束。為什麼要結束。結束因為我不知道它為什麼開始。我不知道它要往哪裡去。不。其實只是這刻你希望它結束。四個小時以後你會感覺不同。或許。但只要開始就會繼續下去。不管是繼續結束還是繼續開始。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;br /&gt;一切都只剩下符號。過去傳來的回音。沒有什麼是新的... 所有線索都歸類在過去。not a new language, not a new character, no new setting, nothing.  如果是新的它會更觸動你還是更不觸動你﹖一向以來你看著他覺得奇異。其實他是透明的。你開始擁抱因為他已出現﹐像出現在臺上的演員﹐你說出臺詞像此刻臺詞從你指上自動出現。其他只是身體過份寂寞。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3&lt;br /&gt;不我們沒有辦法繼續下去。我想不到這種可能。我確定我想過﹐曾經的字裡行間。但那過去了。我不知道為什麼我哭﹐我沒有辦法解釋。如 Damasio 說情感來在理智前。心碎的機制如何產生。或許我難過。但我不想解釋。理智不願處理。它說﹕此部門恕不受理。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4&lt;br /&gt;那是愛嗎。It's children' game.  It's a nostalgic replay.&amp;nbsp; What does it mean?&amp;nbsp; It doesn't mean anything.&amp;nbsp; It's a messy script which scenes don't even go together.&amp;nbsp; Like a retro commercial that gives you tender feelings yet ridiculous in its own term.&amp;nbsp; It has no authenticity.&amp;nbsp; 復古的價值在於它不再存在。在於中間那些過去的時間。與它本身脫節。在復古身上人們要找到的是曾經的自己。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5&lt;br /&gt;伸出手 - 那片雲霧 - 你將無法致信它不曾存在的程度。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6060952748623362214?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6060952748623362214/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6060952748623362214' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6060952748623362214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6060952748623362214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/11/fragment-s.html' title='碎片 fragment s'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TNmd5mm0miI/AAAAAAAADro/jxZeD-GclYA/s72-c/trapped.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-8718418764652256009</id><published>2010-10-31T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T13:59:49.173-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Eating the Dinosaur - Chuck Klosterman</title><content type='html'>Errol Morris &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Modern forms of lie detection - methods that go beyond that polygraph.&amp;nbsp; The writer's idea was that we can actually record activity inside the brain that proves who is or who isn't lying.&amp;nbsp; It suggests that the brain is some kind of 'reality recorder' and that we &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; when we are lying.&amp;nbsp; But I think those kinds of lies represent a very small piece of the pie.&amp;nbsp; I think the larger sect of liars are people who think they are telling the truth, but who really have no idea what the truth is.&amp;nbsp; So the deeper question is, what's more important: narrative consistency or truth?&amp;nbsp; I think we are always trying to create a consistent narrative for ourselves.&amp;nbsp; I think truth always akes a backseat to narrative.&amp;nbsp; Truth has to sit at the back of the bus.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most lying is just an accepted part of the world... if you don't want to know something, can you &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; know it?&amp;nbsp; Can you convince yourself that you &lt;i&gt;don't&lt;/i&gt; know it?&amp;nbsp; Can you actually &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; know it, in some real sense?&amp;nbsp; Can you form a barrier to knowing things?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a great believer in self-deception.&amp;nbsp; If you asked me what makes the world go round, I would say self-deception.&amp;nbsp; Self-deception allows us to create a consistent narrative for ourselves that we actually believe.&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;I'm not saying that the truth doesn't matter.&amp;nbsp; It does.&amp;nbsp; But self-deception is how we survive.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31&lt;br /&gt;But it wasn't just a nice car, it was a Lexus.&amp;nbsp; A &lt;i&gt;Lexus&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp; That's a specific kind of nice car.&amp;nbsp; Everyone knows what owning a Lexus means.&amp;nbsp; To Cobain, a lavender limousine would have been preferable to a Lexus, because at least that would have been gratuitous and silly.&amp;nbsp; The limousine is awake of its excess; a Lexus is at easy with it.&amp;nbsp; A Lexus is a car for a serious rich person.&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;There are no ironic Lexus drivers, or even post-ironic Lexus drivers.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45&lt;br /&gt;Although I'm not sure which one it's unfair to.&amp;nbsp; I feel sorry for both of them.&amp;nbsp; I can see it both ways.&amp;nbsp; That's my problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;145&lt;br /&gt;Football allows the intellectual part of my brain to evolve, but it allows the emotional part to remain unchanged.&amp;nbsp; It has a liberal cerebellum and a reactionary heart.&amp;nbsp; And this is all I want from everything, all the time, always.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;163&lt;br /&gt;It will always seem stupid, because canned laughter represents the worst qualities of insecure people... Insecurity is part of being alive.&amp;nbsp; But it's never less complicated than this.&amp;nbsp; It's never less complicated than a machine that tries to make you feel like you're already enjoying something, simply because people you'll never meet were convinced to laugh at something else entirely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-8718418764652256009?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/8718418764652256009/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=8718418764652256009' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8718418764652256009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/8718418764652256009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/10/eating-dinosaur-chuck-klosterman.html' title='Eating the Dinosaur - Chuck Klosterman'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6890444666286524344</id><published>2010-10-25T16:35:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T20:22:31.379-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Voyage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>Lumiere</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TMYMl_KoeEI/AAAAAAAADqU/kZ94axpyCOU/s1600/light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="270" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TMYMl_KoeEI/AAAAAAAADqU/kZ94axpyCOU/s400/light.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;到的那天﹐那個城市下起大雪。她看著窗外﹐沒有說話。像是接受了理解了一切。其實還是一種唐突。日後再也不會有的﹐她不知道再來是什麼。窗外是那個無數電影使用的背景﹐她像站在一個背景裡演出﹐她從未拿到劇本﹐但所有人都認為她讀熟了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;都可以。沒問題。她木木地和自己說。心像驚弓之鳥似地撲翅﹐誰會發現嗎﹖她像偷了一個角色﹐她不屬於這裡﹐但她在這裡﹐而且這裡要屬於她﹐她甚至不能決定。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;雪在光裡飄在街上。一個全色的黑夜﹐對面的是千篇一律、標準的、無數的窗﹐千篇一律﹐她忘了有沒有燈光。這是一個沒有人的場景﹐只有她﹐觀眾全在等她﹐她的對手在等她作戲﹐等她說話。他有一切的把握和臺詞﹐她不用回頭也感到那毫不在乎的神氣。一片雪花毫無規律的飄.... 高高... 下下...... 離開了視線。或許她知道要來的是什麼﹐或許她感覺到了 - 即將發生的剝離﹐一點點賠出去﹐直到一切鋪平﹐無所謂 - 但戲即將開場﹐她深呼吸﹐走進另一間房。第一幕。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6890444666286524344?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6890444666286524344/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6890444666286524344' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6890444666286524344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6890444666286524344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/10/lumiere.html' title='Lumiere'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TMYMl_KoeEI/AAAAAAAADqU/kZ94axpyCOU/s72-c/light.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-466123935530504990</id><published>2010-10-19T23:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:48:12.824-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《瘟疫》卡謬</title><content type='html'>52&lt;br /&gt;當一場戰爭爆發時﹐人們都說﹕「這太愚蠢了﹐而且它也不會長久。」可是﹐一場戰爭可能「太愚蠢」﹐但這並不就能防止它的持續。愚蠢自有其大行其道的訣竅﹔如果我們能夠不太只顧自己的話﹐我們便能看出這一點。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59&lt;br /&gt;格蘭充份流露著一個當地政府小僱員的外表特徵與定型姿態。他又高又瘦﹐看起來好像在他那身基於以為可以穿得久一點的幻想﹐而時常故意選大一號的衣服中失蹤了。.... 他具有微不足道的一切屬性。你只能想像他彎在一張辦公桌上﹐專心一志地修訂室內浴室的價目表﹐或者替某一位低級秘書整理關於垃圾清潔稅的報告資料﹔如果你要另作其他想像﹐實在相當費力。甚至在你知道他的職位以前﹐你也會有一種感覺 - 他只是為了執行每天薪水僅有六十二法郎三十生丁的臨時市政助理僱員那些奉命惟謹但又有其必要的工作而來到這個世界。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82&lt;br /&gt;連續幾個星期中﹐我們無可奈何地把同樣的一封信一再從頭寫過﹐重提著那些零碎消息與個人願望﹔結果﹐經過一段時間以後﹐那些似乎曾經攙和著我們心血的活潑言詞﹐都涸竭了原有的意義。從這以後﹐我們只是機械性地重複抄寫它們﹐試圖透過這些死了的語辭﹐來對這場受罪考驗略微表達出一點概念。臨到末了﹐和這些毫無意思的重複獨白與徒然的面壁自語比較起來﹐就連電報那樣的平板公式﹐也變得聊勝一籌了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;146&lt;br /&gt;世界上所有的惡﹐永遠都來自無知﹐而善意﹐加入缺乏理解的話﹐也會跟惡意一樣﹐造成同樣嚴重的損害。就整個而言﹐人是善多於惡的﹔但是﹐這不是真正的要點。他們多多少少有點無知﹐而這才是我們所謂的惡德或美德﹔最難矯正的惡德﹐就是那種自以為無所不知﹐因而自命具有生殺之權的無知。謀殺者的靈魂是盲目的﹔假若沒有最高度的「明辨」﹐就不可能有真正的善與愛。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;179&lt;br /&gt;「人正『是』一個觀念﹐一個寶貴的微小觀念﹐一旦他背棄了愛。並且我的看法﹔我們 - 人類 - 已經失去了愛的能力。醫生﹐我們必須面對這個事實。我們要耐心地等待﹐以求獲得那種能力﹐假若那真是我們力所不及的東西。讓我們等待各人遲早會來的那種拯救﹐而用不著扮演英雄角色。就我個人而言﹐我不向更遠的地方看。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;李爾站了起來﹐突然間﹐他顯得異常疲倦。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;「你是對的﹐十分的對﹐我決不為了世界上任何東西而試圖說服你不做你所要做的事﹔我認為它絕對正確而適當。但是﹐有一件事我必須告訴你﹔在這一切當中﹐決無英雄主義可言。這只是一種普通的禮儀。這個觀念可能會使某些人發笑﹐然而唯一能夠反擊一場瘟疫的武器﹐就就只有 - 普通禮儀。 我不知道別人認為它是什麼意思。就我而言﹐它就存乎做我的本份工作。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;196&lt;br /&gt;既無回憶﹐又無希望﹐他們只為此時而活著。一點不錯﹐「此時」與「此地」代表了一切。無可否認﹐瘟疫不僅殺死了我們大家心裡的愛意﹐甚至消滅了友情。這是很自然的﹐因為「愛」要求某種未來的東西﹐而我們除了一連串的「此刻」之外﹐一無所有。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-466123935530504990?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/466123935530504990/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=466123935530504990' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/466123935530504990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/466123935530504990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/10/blog-post.html' title='《瘟疫》卡謬'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-3610118615719427358</id><published>2010-10-18T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T23:14:13.355-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Good Morning, Midnight - Jean Rhys</title><content type='html'>55&lt;br /&gt;If someone had come to me and asked me if I wished to be born I think I should have answered No.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure I should have answered No.&amp;nbsp; But no one asked me.&amp;nbsp; I am here not throught my will.&amp;nbsp; Most things that happen to me - they are not my will either.&amp;nbsp; And so that's what I say to myself all the time: "You didn't ask to be born, you didn't make the world as it is, you didn't make yourself as you are.&amp;nbsp; Why torment yourself?&amp;nbsp; Why not take life just as it comes?&amp;nbsp; You have the right to; you are not on of the guilty ones.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64&lt;br /&gt;Well, what harm can he do to me?&amp;nbsp; He is out for money and I haven't got any.&amp;nbsp; I am invulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'll have the sheets changed.&amp;nbsp; I'll lie in bed all day, pull the curtains and shut the damned world out. ...&amp;nbsp; There was a monsieur, but the monsieur has gone.&amp;nbsp; There was more than one monsieur, but they have all gone.&amp;nbsp; What an assortment!&amp;nbsp; One of every kind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75&lt;br /&gt;At this moment a taxi draws up.&amp;nbsp; Without a word he gets into it, bangs the door and drives off, leaving me standing there on the pavement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did I mind?&amp;nbsp; Not at all, not at all.&amp;nbsp; If you think I minded then you've never lived like that, plunged in a dream, when all the faces are masks and only the trees are alive and you can almost see the strings that are pulling the puppets.&amp;nbsp; Close-up of human nature - isn't it worth something? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88&lt;br /&gt;But this is my attitude to life.&amp;nbsp; Please, please, monsieur et madame, mister, missis and miss, I am trying so hard to be like you.&amp;nbsp; I know I don't succeed, but look how hard I try.&amp;nbsp; Three hours to choose a hat; every morning an hour and a half trying to make myself look like everybody else.&amp;nbsp; Every word I say has chains round its ankles; every thought I think is weighted with heavy weights. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;108&lt;br /&gt;But it wasn't all that that mattered.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't that he knew so exactly when to be cruel, so exactly how to be kind.&amp;nbsp; ... He had gone out to buy something to eat.&amp;nbsp; I was behind the curtain and I saw him in the street below, standing by a lamp-post, looking up at our window, looking for me.&amp;nbsp; He seemed very thin and small and I saw the expression on his face quite plainly.&amp;nbsp; Anxious, he was... When I saw him looking up like that I knew that I loved him, and that it was for always.&amp;nbsp; It was as if my heart turned over, and I knew that it was for always.&amp;nbsp; It's a strange feeling - when you know quite certainly in yourself that something is for always.&amp;nbsp; It's like what death must be.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-3610118615719427358?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/3610118615719427358/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=3610118615719427358' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3610118615719427358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3610118615719427358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/10/good-morning-midnight-jean-rhys.html' title='Good Morning, Midnight - Jean Rhys'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7785120743833684591</id><published>2010-10-11T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T20:23:48.291-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Hollywood - Charles Bukowski</title><content type='html'>9 &lt;br /&gt;"We have just landed upon the outpost of death.&amp;nbsp; My soul is puking."&lt;br /&gt;"Will you stop worrying about your soul?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10&lt;br /&gt;It opened to this tall slim delicate type, you smelled &lt;i&gt;artistry&lt;/i&gt; all over him.&amp;nbsp; You could see he had been &lt;i&gt;born&lt;/i&gt; to Create, to Create grand things, totally unhindered, never bothered by such petty things as toothache, self-doubt, lousy luck.&amp;nbsp; He was one of those who&lt;i&gt; looked&lt;/i&gt; like a genius.&amp;nbsp; I looked like a dishwasher so these types always pissed me just a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23&lt;br /&gt;"I probably would have lost anyhow.&amp;nbsp; A gambler without an excuse is a gambler who can't continue."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26&lt;br /&gt;I looked in the mirror.&amp;nbsp; I liked myself but I didn't like myself in the mirror.&amp;nbsp; I didn't look like that.&amp;nbsp; I finished my drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LUKE&lt;br /&gt;Isn't there another part of you somewhere?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOUNG MAN&lt;br /&gt;Well, shit.&amp;nbsp; I was in the 6th grade, I think.&amp;nbsp; The teacher asked us to write something about our most moving experience.&amp;nbsp; And I don't mean like moving to Denver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I wrote about this frog I found in the garden.&amp;nbsp; He had one of his legs caught in a wire fence.&amp;nbsp; He couldn't get away.&amp;nbsp; I got his leg out of the wire fence but he still wouldn't move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I held him in my lap and talked to him.&amp;nbsp; I told him that I was trapped, that my life was caught in something too.&amp;nbsp; I talked to him for a long tmie.&amp;nbsp; At last he hopped out of my lp and hopped across the lawn and vanished into some brush.&amp;nbsp; And I said to myself that he was the first things that I had ever missed in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher read it to the class.&amp;nbsp; Everybody cried.&amp;nbsp; Well, I thought that some day I might be a writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120&lt;br /&gt;"I want a castle, I want 6 children and a big fat wife.&amp;nbsp; So when I lose at gambling somebody will take to me.&amp;nbsp; Now when I lose at gambling nobody talks to me."&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to suggest that when he lost at gambling maybe a fat wife and 6 chlidren might not talk to him either.&amp;nbsp; But I didn't.&amp;nbsp; Francois was suffering enough.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;165&lt;br /&gt;Sarah found people to talk to.&amp;nbsp; She was lucky.&amp;nbsp; Every time somebody spoke to me I felt like diving out a window or taking the elevator down.&amp;nbsp; People just weren't interesting.&amp;nbsp; Maybe they weren't supposed to be.&amp;nbsp; But animals, birds, even insects were.&amp;nbsp; I couldn't understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;232&lt;br /&gt;Maybe they were waiting for me to get drunk and insane and abusive like I sometimes did at parties.&amp;nbsp; But I doubted that.&amp;nbsp; They were just dull inside.&amp;nbsp; there was nothing for them to do bus stay within the self that was not quite there.&amp;nbsp; That wasn't too painful.&amp;nbsp; It was a soft place to be.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7785120743833684591?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7785120743833684591/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7785120743833684591' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7785120743833684591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7785120743833684591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/10/hollywood-charles-bukowski.html' title='Hollywood - Charles Bukowski'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6793317575359139558</id><published>2010-10-11T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T11:31:20.976-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Adoptation - Charlie Kaufman</title><content type='html'>「或是我可以去學俄語或什麼﹐或是一種樂器。我可以說中文。我可以成為一個說中文吹黑管的劇作家。那會很酷。我應該剪短頭髮。別再誤導自己和身邊所有人認為我有滿頭秀髮。多可悲。真實點。自信。難道女人不就是被這個吸引嗎﹖男子以才為貌。才怪。尤其不是現在。男人身上的壓力幾乎和女人一樣重。為什麼有人讓我覺得我應該為我的存在感到歉意﹖或許不過是腦裡的化學作用。或許我的問題就出在那裡。不好的化學。我所有的問題和焦慮都不過是化學不平衡或是突觸的某些錯誤傳導。我需要尋求幫助。但我還是很醜。什麼也改變不了這個事實。」&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;《蘭花賊》&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I  learned Russian or something, or took up an instrument. I  could speak  Chinese. I’d be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and  plays the oboe.  That would be cool. I should get my hair cut short.  Stop trying to fool  myself and everyone else into thinking I have a  full head of hair. How  pathetic is that. Just be real. Confident. Isn’t  that what women are  attracted to? Men don’t have to be attractive. But  that’s not true.  Especially these days. Almost as much pressure on men  as there is on  women these days. Why should I be made to feel I have  to apologize for  my existence? Maybe it’s my brain chemistry. Maybe  that’s what’s wrong  with me. Bad chemistry. All my problems and anxiety  can be reduced to a  chemical imbalance or some kind of misfiring  synapses. I need to get  help for that. But I’ll still be ugly though.  Nothing’s going to change  that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6793317575359139558?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6793317575359139558/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6793317575359139558' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6793317575359139558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6793317575359139558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/10/adoptation-charlie-kaufman.html' title='Adoptation - Charlie Kaufman'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6400695486494863529</id><published>2010-09-28T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T21:56:34.792-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drama'/><title type='text'>Sleep With Me - Hanif Kureishi</title><content type='html'>9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Charles&lt;/b&gt; I'm so relaxed these days I'm hardly alive.&amp;nbsp; Are you in therapy yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Julie&lt;/b&gt; Everybody talks about themselves enough as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Charles&lt;/b&gt; That's because it's the one thing most people know anything about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Julie&lt;/b&gt; Ah... You love the children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stephen&lt;/b&gt; Your anger is unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Julie&lt;/b&gt; You make me like this.&amp;nbsp; You don't let me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stephen&lt;/b&gt; You wouldn't like what you saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sophie&lt;/b&gt; That's the mistake, though - thinking you can find everything there... Families, if you don't mind me saying so, are mental hospitals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6400695486494863529?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6400695486494863529/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6400695486494863529' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6400695486494863529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6400695486494863529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/09/sleep-with-me-hanif-kureishi.html' title='Sleep With Me - Hanif Kureishi'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4583109312402433783</id><published>2010-09-28T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T21:51:20.881-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>The Body - Hanif Kureishi</title><content type='html'>3&lt;br /&gt;Beside my numerous contradictions - I am, I have been told, at least three different people - I am unstable, too, lost in myself, envious, and constantly in need of reassurance.&amp;nbsp; My wife says that I have craziness, bewildering moods and "internal disappearances" I am not even aware of.&amp;nbsp; I can go into the shower as one man and emerge as another, worse, one.&amp;nbsp; My pupils enlarge, I move around obsessively, I yell and stamp my feet.&amp;nbsp; A few words of criticism and I can bear a grudge for three days at a time, convinced she is plotting against me.&amp;nbsp; None of this has diminished, despite years of self-analysis, therapy, and "writing as healing," as some of my students used to all the attempt to make art.&amp;nbsp; Nothing has cured me of myself, of the self I cling to.&amp;nbsp; If you asked me, I would probably say that my problems are myself; my life is my dilemmas.&amp;nbsp; I'd better enjoy them, then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55&lt;br /&gt;How fidelity interferes with love, at times!&amp;nbsp; What were refinement and the intellect compared to a sublime fuck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69&lt;br /&gt;It has, at least, become clear that it is our pleasure, rather than our addictions and vices, that are our greatest problems.&amp;nbsp; Pleasure can change you in an instant; it can take you anywhere.&amp;nbsp; If these gratifications were intoxicating and almost mystical in their intensity, I learned, when something stranger happened, that indulgence wasn't a full-time job and reality was a shore where dreams broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;132&lt;br /&gt;People either want eternal life or they want out right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;149&lt;br /&gt;I was a stranger on the earth, a nobody with nothing, belonging nowhere, a body alone, condemned to begin again, in the nightmare of eternal life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4583109312402433783?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4583109312402433783/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4583109312402433783' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4583109312402433783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4583109312402433783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/09/body-hanif-kureishi.html' title='The Body - Hanif Kureishi'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5453641295021416145</id><published>2010-09-02T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T22:48:57.377-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Intimacy - Hanif Kureishi</title><content type='html'>Silence, like darkness, can be kind; it, too, is a language.&amp;nbsp; Couples have good reason for not speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their reluctance to go to sleep I don't understand.&amp;nbsp; For months the highlight of my day has been the anticipation of unconsciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ambition without imagination is always clumsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But marriage is a battle, a terrible journey, a season in hell and a reason for living.&amp;nbsp; You need to be equipped in all areas, not just the sexual."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," I said, dully. "I know."&lt;br /&gt;Oh to be equipped in all areas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder everyone wants it - as if they have known such love before and can barely remember it, yet are compelled ever after to seek it as the single thing worth living for.&amp;nbsp; Without love, most of life remains concealed.&amp;nbsp; Nothing is as fascinating as love, unfortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know love is dark work; you have to get your hands dirty.&amp;nbsp; If you hold back, nothing interesting happens.&amp;nbsp; At the same time, you have to find the right distance between people.&amp;nbsp; Too close, and they overwhelm you; too far and they abandon you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is of a disapproving generation of women.&amp;nbsp; She thinks she's a feminist but she's just bad-tempered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I had the feeling that everything was as it should be and nothing could add to this happiness or contentment.&amp;nbsp; This was all that there was, and all that could be.&amp;nbsp; The best of everything had accumulated in this moment.&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;It could only have been love.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5453641295021416145?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5453641295021416145/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5453641295021416145' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5453641295021416145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5453641295021416145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/09/intimacy-hanif-kureishi.html' title='Intimacy - Hanif Kureishi'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-3777111256913521877</id><published>2010-08-29T09:53:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T16:42:05.152-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Midnight All Day - Hanif Kureishi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;That Was Then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;We are unerring in our choice of lovers, particularly when we require the wrong person.&amp;nbsp; There is an instinct, magnet or aerial which seeks the unsuitable.&amp;nbsp; The wrong person is, of course, right for something - to punish, bully or humiliate us, let us down, leave us for dead, or, worst of all, give us the impression that they are not inappropriate, but almost right, thus hanging us in love's limbo.&amp;nbsp; Not just anyone can do this.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;A Meeting, At Last &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;Eric said, "My children are going to be pretty angry with you when they find out what you've done to us."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Yes," said Morgan. "Who could blame them?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;"They're big and expensive. They eat like horses."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Christ."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;Morgan thought he had been afraid of happiness, and kept it away; he had been afraid of other people, and had kept them away.&amp;nbsp; He was still afraid, but it was too late for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"What?" said Eric.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"I've decided," said Morgan.&amp;nbsp; "The answer is yes.&amp;nbsp; Yes to everything!&amp;nbsp; Now you must get out." He stopped the car.&amp;nbsp; "Out, I said!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;The Umbrella&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;He had always been proud of the idea that he was a good man who treated people fairly.&amp;nbsp; He did not want to impose himself.&amp;nbsp; The world would be a better place if people considered their actions.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps he had put himself on a pedestal.&amp;nbsp; "You have a high reputation - with yourself!"&amp;nbsp; a friend had said.&amp;nbsp; Everyone was entitled to some pride and vanity.&amp;nbsp; However, this whole business with his wife had stripped hi of his moral certainities.&amp;nbsp; There was no just or objective way to resolve competing claims: those of freedom - his freedom - to have his dependable presence.&amp;nbsp; but no amount of conscience or morality would make him go back.&amp;nbsp; He had not missed his wife for a moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"No.&amp;nbsp; No umbrella," she said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;He said, "There were three there last week."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"Maybe there were."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"Are there not still three umbrellas there?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"Maybe there are," she said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"Give me one."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"No."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"Sorry?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;"I'm not giving you one, " She said.&amp;nbsp; "&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;If there were a thousand umbrellas there I would not give you one.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-3777111256913521877?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/3777111256913521877/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=3777111256913521877' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3777111256913521877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3777111256913521877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/08/midnight-all-day-hanif-kureishi.html' title='Midnight All Day - Hanif Kureishi'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-2058736780295583121</id><published>2010-08-26T20:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T02:48:34.727-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>《夜車》 Night Train - Martin Amis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;但人們的一些行為往往是在沒人知道的情況下發聲的。人們殺人﹐埋葬﹐離婚﹐結婚﹐變性﹐發瘋﹐生小孩...... 全都沒人知道。人們神不知鬼不覺地在廁所生下了三胞胎。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-2058736780295583121?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/2058736780295583121/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=2058736780295583121' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2058736780295583121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/2058736780295583121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/08/night-train-martin-amis.html' title='《夜車》 Night Train - Martin Amis'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-7835835994361492614</id><published>2010-08-17T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T22:49:08.026-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>The Fall - Camus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;I know of others who have appearance on their side and are no more faithful or sincere.&amp;nbsp; I knew a man who gave twenty years of his life to a scatterbrained woman, sacrificing everything to her, his friendships, his work, the very respectability of his life, and who one evening recognized that he had never loved her.&amp;nbsp; He had been bored, that's all, bored like most people.&amp;nbsp; Hence he had made himself out of whole cloth a life full of complication and drama.&amp;nbsp; Something must happen - and that explains most human commitments.&amp;nbsp; Something must happen, even loveless slavery, even war or death.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;Without desire, women bored me beyond all expectation, and obviously I bored them too.&amp;nbsp; No more gambling and no more theater - I was probably in the realm of truth.&amp;nbsp; But truth, &lt;i&gt;cher ami&lt;/i&gt;, is a colossal bore.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;There are always reasons for murdering a man.&amp;nbsp; On the contrary, it is impossible to justify his living.&amp;nbsp; That's why crime always finds lawyers, and innocence only rarely.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;A person I knew used to divide human beings into three categories: those who prefer having nothing to hide rather than being obliged to lie, those who prefer lying to having nothing to hide, and finally&amp;nbsp; those who like both lying and the hidden... But what do I care?&amp;nbsp; Don't lies eventually lead to the truth?&amp;nbsp; And don't all my stories, truth or false, tend toward the same conclusion?&amp;nbsp; Don't they all have the same meaning?&amp;nbsp; So what does it matter whether they are true or false if, in both cases, they are significant of what I have been and of what I am?&amp;nbsp; Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Truth, like light, blinds.&amp;nbsp; Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-7835835994361492614?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/7835835994361492614/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=7835835994361492614' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7835835994361492614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/7835835994361492614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/08/fall-camus.html' title='The Fall - Camus'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-1124862011198223021</id><published>2010-08-07T17:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T09:55:47.686-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>勘誤表 Errata: an Examined Life -  George Steiner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;無論是情感、智識及專業各方面﹐我都不信任理論。只要我能力所及﹐在科學﹐或是某種程度內的應用科學裡﹐我能夠把意義和理論概念相結合。理論可以從數學或邏輯驗證中成立﹐而它們要求的是關鍵的實驗以驗證其真偽﹐如果實驗結果不符﹐理論就會被取代。但在人文學科、歷史研究及社會研究或是品評文學及藝術﹐要從「理論」著手﹐我覺得是虛偽不實的。人文學科既不須實驗﹐也無法驗證(除非是就物質的﹐紀實的層次來談)。我們對人文學科的翻譯是直覺的敘事。在語意無拘無束的活力中﹐在意義的長流裡﹐在詮釋不受限制的交互作用裡﹐唯一的命題是個人選擇、品味、回 音的相近或聽而不聞。...... 我認為當前理論在文學、歷史、社會學等論述的勝利﹐其實是自我欺騙﹔無非是因為科學站上風﹐人文學科為了背水一戰而發展出來的。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;法文即使是以抒情的形式呈現﹐也是一種公共媒介(法文裡並沒有確切指示「隱私」的辭彙)。法文強調雄辯滔滔﹐到了走火入魔的地步。即使是和情色相關的文字﹐也隨處可見冠冕堂皇的修辭和華麗用典的辭藻﹔法文中的死亡也可能喋喋不休。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;羅馬劇作家說﹕「只要是人性的﹐於我都無甚陌生」(Nihil alienum)。或者換一種方式說﹕有時候﹐其他人的出現哪裡比得上我自己更令自己感到陌生﹖&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;我相信﹐從生理局限的解放出來﹐從我們自身死亡以及個人和集體失望的外在永恆毫無出口的牆垣解放﹐靠的無非是語言。就生物社會的角色而言﹐我們確實是短命的哺乳動物﹐和其他動物一樣會絕跡。但是我們是語言動物﹐這一點天賦異秉非常重要﹐使我們短暫生命變得能夠忍受且有意義。人類言說的演化 -也許來得遲 -假設句﹐祈使句﹐反事實的條件句﹐及動詞的未來時態(並非所有語言都有時態)﹐已定義並保障了我們的人性。正是因為我們能夠述說有關十億年後的宇宙故事﹐無論是虛構的或是數字 - 宇宙論的﹐因為我們能夠﹐如前所述﹐討論、概念化自己火化之後的星期一早晨﹐因為「如果」的句子能夠隨意地去否定﹐重建﹐改變過去、現在、和未來﹐以另一種可能勾勒實際現實的決定因素﹐所以存在始終值得體驗。文法就是希望。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-1124862011198223021?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/1124862011198223021/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=1124862011198223021' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1124862011198223021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/1124862011198223021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/08/errata-examined-life-george-steiner.html' title='勘誤表 Errata: an Examined Life -  George Steiner'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-738295035890008256</id><published>2010-08-06T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T17:53:37.326-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>臨時愛情 - 哈金</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;那天夜裡祖明堅持要做愛﹐麗娜也願意。完事後﹐丈夫睡了過去﹐而她卻好幾個小時都睡不著﹐聽著他打呼嚕。雖然聲音不大﹐但像隻破風扇。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-738295035890008256?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/738295035890008256/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=738295035890008256' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/738295035890008256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/738295035890008256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post_07.html' title='臨時愛情 - 哈金'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5870581464986660885</id><published>2010-08-03T12:45:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T20:23:03.298-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Voyage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dream'/><title type='text'>創世紀</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TFhtnhcXFEI/AAAAAAAADj0/1dEX2FRUjpY/s1600/Dance+me.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TFhtnhcXFEI/AAAAAAAADj0/1dEX2FRUjpY/s400/Dance+me.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;應該要從另外一個世紀醒來，睜開眼，一切還是一樣。應該要跨過什麼，但跨不過去。像在諾亞方舟上說了不好笑的笑話，被扔到海裡的恐龍還是長毛象；洪水來不能沖走你，地球爆炸沒把你散成分子，要靠自己創世紀。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;這不是你一直在做的事情嗎？但你寫不出來，渾身乏力。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;你想移動，不知往哪裡去。你知道這無需想像力，而是動力。你對醒來見到的狀況不甘心。你需要的不是一場睡眠，是一場昏迷。早晨的地鐵裡迎面走來你的鬼魂，整裝待發、毫無血色；抹著一臉毒粉，一年吃掉一條鉛。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;到最後他們都是你的敵人，站在你的相對面。你說不出謊言，誠實又不仁慈。不是你不想走，是你不知走到哪裡去。繞了這麼多次又似乎回到原點，消磨志氣。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;從高處摔落的幻覺不停來喚你：想閉上眼睛，揮不去清醒。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5870581464986660885?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5870581464986660885/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5870581464986660885' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5870581464986660885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5870581464986660885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html' title='創世紀'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TFhtnhcXFEI/AAAAAAAADj0/1dEX2FRUjpY/s72-c/Dance+me.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-4259415102906885475</id><published>2010-07-31T01:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T01:13:32.729-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><title type='text'>一個夜行性動物的自白</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TE4IqU2x63I/AAAAAAAADjo/fxgdJbmyzBc/s1600/Picture+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="258" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TE4IqU2x63I/AAAAAAAADjo/fxgdJbmyzBc/s400/Picture+2.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="medium_text" id="result_box"&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;走到路上去，夜裡。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;" title=""&gt;一一和他們說話。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;那是你最適合的角色...... 一個鬼魂。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;" title=""&gt;夜裡的那些城市。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;你走過。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;你熟悉的。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;黃色的照在地上的燈，洗刷過石板路發光的雨。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;" title=""&gt;其它的遊魂。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;" title=""&gt;橋墩。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;兩邊的聖人。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;山上一個發亮的城堡。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;無人的櫥窗前。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="medium_text" id="result_box"&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;喔。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="medium_text" id="result_box"&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;說了什麼並不重要。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;" title=""&gt;交換過什麼並不重要。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;因為夜包裹著你們－ 它永遠不會結束。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;親愛的。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title=""&gt;它永遠不會結束。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-4259415102906885475?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/4259415102906885475/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=4259415102906885475' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4259415102906885475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/4259415102906885475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post_31.html' title='一個夜行性動物的自白'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TE4IqU2x63I/AAAAAAAADjo/fxgdJbmyzBc/s72-c/Picture+2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-3664613654774741136</id><published>2010-07-13T14:52:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T20:23:30.914-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>這樣一個女子</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TDzaQYyMYYI/AAAAAAAADio/4xfhgY_h1mQ/s1600/she+%26+him.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="301" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TDzaQYyMYYI/AAAAAAAADio/4xfhgY_h1mQ/s400/she+%26+him.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;他知道他仍然是喜歡她的，因為他仍然覺得她好看，而她本是一個毫不起眼的女子。有時他在她上班的地方等她下班，遠遠地用陌生的眼神打量她，把她當成一個毫無干係的他人，更深深感覺到那份平庸。她那沒出什麼差錯卻稱不上勝利的五官，塌陷在臉盤邊的頭髮，隨意買來的衣裙，縫線粗糙的涼鞋。你不會回頭看這個女子。她於任何人毫無二致。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;然後，她轉過來看到他，對他揮手，對他笑。他看到自己揮手。意識到自己嘴角的微笑。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;他時常對自己感到疑惑。疑惑像一條奇異的線，牽著他去想。這疑惑成了這份愛戀最主要的一部分，不合理有不合理的魔力。讓他自覺自己必定與他人不同，自覺自己見到別人見不到的部分，而那部分完全是屬於他自己的。這麼想的時候她便蒙上層層光輝，他看著那模糊的柔光對自己感到自豪。他告訴自己只有他懂得她的價值，激動的幾乎想把懷中的她揉碎。他和自己說她不像其它女子－ 那些誰也知道，誰也可以看見的貨品－ 她们在宴會中站的挺直，就怕自己撐不住對方出的那個價值。她不一樣，因為她本是這樣毫不起眼的一個女子。&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-3664613654774741136?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/3664613654774741136/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=3664613654774741136' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3664613654774741136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/3664613654774741136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/07/mine-mind.html' title='這樣一個女子'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TDzaQYyMYYI/AAAAAAAADio/4xfhgY_h1mQ/s72-c/she+%26+him.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-5057276671238537365</id><published>2010-07-03T17:43:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T20:23:54.457-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Cœur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Word'/><title type='text'>明日世界</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TC_ON345mUI/AAAAAAAADhY/yQugEEO9Z9A/s1600/breathless.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="285" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TC_ON345mUI/AAAAAAAADhY/yQugEEO9Z9A/s400/breathless.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;這一年，要用什麼作為單位衡量？新的城市，走過的路，拍下的照片，遇見的人。那些新嚐的美食，讀的書、寫的字、看的電影、課程、人。產生了什麼新想法、或臉上還捉摸不清楚的細紋。產生了什麼新迴路、多相信什麼、多不相信什麼、對什麼開始毫無所謂，或是更輕易的裝作無所謂的模樣。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;誰知道我是走前了還是往後退，總之是移動著。該習慣的四季和那些上上下下的興奮和絕望。我知道我什麼都不知道。理解自己是不可被理解的。掌握我什麼也掌握不到的事實。擁有誰也無法真正被誰擁有的真實。自信我再也不會對自己這樣自信，我不知道明天的我，明天的我可以在這裡知道我。 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;等我走到金光閃閃的對方，太陽將會把我深深灼傷。我將會相信謊言，我將會說謊；我將會吃驚，我將會讓人吃驚。還有更深的絕望和孤獨在等待我，我知道。那是我最大的勇氣和喜悅。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-5057276671238537365?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/5057276671238537365/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=5057276671238537365' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5057276671238537365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/5057276671238537365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html' title='明日世界'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TC_ON345mUI/AAAAAAAADhY/yQugEEO9Z9A/s72-c/breathless.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6497213586057112046</id><published>2010-06-29T11:21:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T17:01:34.833-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Voyage'/><title type='text'>為什麼我的世界始終沒有變小 -  Tony Wheeler</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TCo5Qc1eSTI/AAAAAAAADgs/rXSSGBUSnBg/s1600/Picture+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TCo5Qc1eSTI/AAAAAAAADgs/rXSSGBUSnBg/s320/Picture+1.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... 今天我們生活的這個星球看起來像是陷入了一個永無休止的怪圈：衝突，誤解還有悲傷和心碎。但與此同時旅行也一直在不斷地提醒我們：我們生存的這個世界是如此美好而這個美好的世界是屬於我們大家的。對於一些國家來說，旅遊業對他們的經濟十分重要，而對於無數旅行者來說，旅行則會給他們帶來巨大的滿足和喜悅。但更為重要的是旅行能夠以最積極的方式去幫助人與人相互結識，去讓我們認識到我們有著同樣的希望和渴求，去證明我們可以擁有一個更美好的世界。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;不管經歷過多少陽光與風雨，也不管在這些年裡Lonely Planet 帶著我走過多少徬徨，對我而言，旅行一直都讓我充滿熱情，我也願意為之付出一切。&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;塞給我一張機票，告訴我出發的方向，我馬上就可以動身上路。&lt;/span&gt;這些旅程不斷提醒我為什麼我的熱情始終未曾退卻，為什麼我的世界始終沒有變小，以及為什麼我的旅行癮似乎，令人幸福地，永遠也不能治癒。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;Tony Wheeler&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;Lonely Planet 創始人&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lonelyplanetcn.blogbus.com/"&gt;Lonely Planet China Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6497213586057112046?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6497213586057112046/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6497213586057112046' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6497213586057112046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6497213586057112046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/06/tony-wheeler.html' title='為什麼我的世界始終沒有變小 -  Tony Wheeler'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/TCo5Qc1eSTI/AAAAAAAADgs/rXSSGBUSnBg/s72-c/Picture+1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324197780782261409.post-6357608466394989385</id><published>2010-06-19T19:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T22:32:54.619-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book'/><title type='text'>Women - Charles Bukowski</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;A young guy - at least 6 feet 6 inch tall - walked up to me. "Look, Chinaski, I don't believe all that shit about you living on skidrow and knowing all the dope dealers, pimps, whores, junkies, horse players, fighters and drunks...."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;"it's partly true."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;"Bullshit," he said and walked off. A literary critic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;Then this blonde, about 19, with rimless glasses and a smile walked up.  The smile never left. "I want to fuck you," she said. "it's your face."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;"What about my face?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;"It's magnificent.  I want to destroy your face with my cunt."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;"It might be the other way around."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;"Don't bet on it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #444444;"&gt;"You're right.  Cunts are indestructible."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my bottle and went to my bedroom.&amp;nbsp; I undressed down to my shorts and went to bed.&amp;nbsp; Nothing was ever in tune.&amp;nbsp; people just blindly grabbed at whatever there was: communism, health foods, zen, surfing, ballet, hypnotism, group encounters, orgies, biking, herbs, Catholicism, weight-lifting, travel, withdrawal, vegetarianism, India, painting, writing, sculpting, composing, conducting, backpacking, yoga, copulating, gambling, drinking, hanging around, frozen yogurt, Beethoven, Bach, Buddha, Christ, TM, H, carrot juice, suicide, handmade suits, jet travel, New York City, and then it all evaporated and fell apart.&amp;nbsp; People had to find things to do while waiting to die.&amp;nbsp; I guess it was nice to have a choice.&lt;br /&gt;I took my choice.&amp;nbsp; I raised the fifth of vodka and drank it straight.&amp;nbsp; the russians knew something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324197780782261409-6357608466394989385?l=yes-dear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/feeds/6357608466394989385/comments/default' title='張貼意見'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324197780782261409&amp;postID=6357608466394989385' title='0 個意見'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6357608466394989385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324197780782261409/posts/default/6357608466394989385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yes-dear.blogspot.com/2010/06/women-charles-bukowski.html' title='Women - Charles Bukowski'/><author><name>Coco</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13771464630181254353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_8nMoNPQuKO0/SEstrFGJxnI/AAAAAAAABf8/5DL2D3IXg3g/S220/little+head.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
