punkmanson 的个人博客

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幸福接力棒（sweet heart 等一下我的东西掉了。我的鸡皮疙瘩）---被亲爱的；梅娃子点名了!
Q1:你的大名？
江滔

Rain turns the sand into mud
Wind turns the trees into bone
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved

Nights when the heat had gone out
We danced together alone
Cold turned our breath into clouds
We never said what we were dreaming of
But you turned me into somebody loved

Someday when we're old and worn
Like two softened shoes
I will wonder on how I was born
The night I first ran away from you

Now my feet turn the corner back home
Sun turns the evening to rose
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved

Meimei，我好久没有和你说话，我很想念你。今年的法莫道不消魂国是阴雨的，到了6月，每天早晨和晚间我都得穿上外套，慢慢地坐着电梯下楼倒垃圾。我有时会想也许对你我来说时间或许真的改变不了什么，想想下次看见你，一定还会和上次一样亲切。我们可以说着可有可无的话，吃着可有可无的食物，走在可有可无的街道上。

我是一个自私的人，我总是想让你快点回去，好让我有机会更早地见到你，然而我却没有给你打电话，我走进飞机，看见走来的乘务员，我才想起没有能够用最后的时间给你再次道别。但是或许，我没有给你电话，就像我其实从来没有回来过，没有走过我们的学校，没有看见通向你以前的家的路口，没有吃过你最爱吃的菜，没有喝过你最常喝的饮料，没有看过我们最爱看的地方新闻。或许就更你我没有离开一样吧。

或许我们都会变，但是我们作为人的本来是不会变的，所以我们还是当时负气的孩子，还是当时在书信里要绝交的孩子，还是当时喝醉的孩子，还是当时要坐一辈子孩子的孩子吧。

我想我会爱上这个人，但事实根本不允许我爱上这个人，我的纠结始终让我成为妄想狂。

但我睡去你会醒来，当我吸烟你会喝咖啡，但我走在街上时你会坐在办公室里，当我微笑的时候你会听音乐，但我知道，当想你的那一刻说不定也会想我。

Ok, now it’s the moment of truth,Have I drunk too much?

 Have I been too mean to others?

 Have I heard the heartbeats?

Have I told you so?

 Have I slipped away from this land?

 Have I lived in the smoke of god?

Have I thought through?

Now it’s the moment of truth,

Provocatively into this room,

This was dirty and blurry.

I’d say it was the best time ever,

 Time was pouring down from high above,

Now when you look back it seemed
like a second.

It passed by in between each
conversation,

 Through flawed minds,

I stood; I put my hand on my heart,

And it rose faster. I questioned my
friends and myself.

Who were my best friends these
years?

Who are still behind my shoulders?

 Questions are lame and plant.

They went through my veins like wine
went through my digesting system.

But relationships are so bizarre;

I never want to talk to them
whenever I don’t see their faces,

There will be no greetings or needed
words.

 I face no one but empty screen;

 I hear nothing but lonely keyboard typing.

Those were my problems, when I see them.

Words come naturally,

 Smile comes carelessly,

And friends stay voluntarily.

 Personality is the style,

And then what is mine?

Carelessly understandable,

 Kinkily lovely and independently listening.

My character is odd;

 I don’t know why people like me. 

Hope they would stay adoring me.

 I hope so.

    我决定要写点什么东西，写点什么东西，不管什么，好像赌气，我要写点什么东西。

   
赌气，或者真的是赌气，不知道为什么，其实应该有原因的，对吧，比如我不知道怎么回事，被人浏览过blog，我完全没有在不熟悉的人面前透露过我有blog，为什么会被看到呢。比如，我去偷看了人家的blog，我在某个blog上看到了我的名字，可是我也没惊喜；在另外一个没有，然后我就失落起来了，小气吧，我果然还是狠小气。

   
然后就更加的生气，因为我一直都装得很不在乎的，一点也不在乎。你也是被我遗忘的人，我一直这样说，我假装我不喜欢看那些电影了，我假装我不喜欢听那些音乐了，我假装我不向往当战地记者了，我假装忘记了那下雨会长蘑菇的草坪，假装对过去，一点也不怀念了...

   
然后，遇到你的时候，我还是会热切的跟你讨论，穿什么样子，是我喜欢的调调。

   
我跟自己说，这个是我的朋友，跟所有我要好的朋友一样的，朋，友。然后，在某个睡不着的晚上，我因为看不到blog上有我的痕迹，在斤斤计较的时候，才明白，不一样，总是有些特殊。你是第一个，写文章，能打动我的人，大概你已经不记得那次写了什么吧，呵呵。

   
以前是不会贴出来这样的东西的，但是现在，大概已经不怕了吧，不怕说出来我曾经那么那么的喜欢你会断了后路。毕竟现在，在烟雾缭绕的厨房里，我在等待的，是别的人。

   
蜥蜴断掉的尾巴，慢慢不痛了，长了新的。

   
但是，明年回来的时候，你还会喝醉之后，放心的趴在我肩头哭吗，在寒冷的晚上，喃喃自语，说你最爱的，是你自己，说你也会难过，会怕，会脆弱吗

I have been
quiet for a long time, is it a good thing or it’s a pure evil, which I have to
decide later. Time passes really unbelievably fast, I still can quite recall
the day I saw the late summer field in France for the first time, the blue, the
yellow, the brown passed away by the train window, it’s like this life we are
going to go through, just a blinking moment.

I feel I’m
poor in English vocabularies, words stuck in my mind, stay between my lips and
they would definitely stalk my flawed thought. Where have you been? I ask this
question more than once a day, but what is this “you”? I think I was just questioning
myself to be a better person or to be the person I used to be. Well, thanks to
my unhealthy personal relationship with every body, I feel really lonely and
free, I don’t have to what’s so ever called communicate with every single
person, don’t have to love them, don’t have to stay with them in the dark, don’t
have to listen to their life stories, don’t have to kiss them for comfort or
say I love them for salvations.

What is
future, I can’t really define it. I stayed in a shadow less spot in the
sunshine, now here in France,
it’s the time of deep fall, trees that I can’t say their names have turned in
red and yellow, I can easily break the leaves by stepping on them. It is always
warm by day and freaking cold by night. It makes feel like I live in two worlds
apart, or I’d say I live by day and you live by night, or it is obviously
another way around.

I read some
one’s personal profile till late tonight; it took me about 45 minutes to finish
it. I’m glad I did so; other wise life is too short to be without reading. Or I
can just ignore the fact I’m shallow as a flooded swamp, it seems to be deep
but it doesn’t have much water itself.

I can’t
really tell why I wrote everything in English, I courage myself to express but
words don’t come easily. I’m a swamp like I mentioned before. If I’m really
over flooded then I have to let go some, or I’d be a part of the ocean. I will
be happier if I’m nothing? I doubt it!

My attention
goes to you, whoever you’d be, time waits for me, time gets me. Time is my
favorite beach, which allows me to rest, however, gets chilly as well.  

Don’t
bother to read this if you simply hate to read, it’s for me, I’ve read it all
while I was writing. Like I’ve lived it all while I’m walking down this path!

会想起Glenda,在用某种特别味道的洗发水的时候

会想起陈野，在使劲抽烟的时候

会想起乌龟，在看见野外的兔子的时候

会想起mm，在听陈琦贞的时候

会想起孟蕤，在海滩上看夕阳的时候

会想起乌龟的爹，在看到此方的时候

会想起陈草，在吹走蒲公英的孩子的时候

会想起小白，在切牛排的时候

会想起meimei，在吃火锅和寂寞的时候

会想起耙耙，在疯狂大笑的时候

会想起曾经爱过的人，在渐渐爱上新的这个人的时候

会想起晓雪，当看到西东篱把酒黄昏后藏的轮廓的时候

会想起，也会忘记，但请让我记得。

夜里喜欢上某tube听歌，他们都说今年的气候不寻常，8月的时候天气已经像个秋天，回家的时候把帽子套在头上，耳里塞着James
Morrison，匆忙地从雨中走过。来到这个城市已经几乎一年了。一年。

去年的时候，哪个月份我已经忘记了，去看了Yann Tiersen的演唱会。星期四，和朋友匆忙地结束了法语课，其他人已经等在外面的停车场了，夜也来了，坐着轻轨来到市中心，来到Rock Store刚好10点，外面等着入场的人已经排到了下条街。

音乐还是音乐，但是在现场的感觉终究是不一般，许多个月过去，当我和同去的朋友聊起那时，都说是“the high light of my life ”人生中的高光，奇怪的翻译不用去追究，究竟他表演了哪些曲目也不必去追究，那夜的雨下到几时不得而知，心里的感觉只是自由和平静。

自由和平静是我们的，我们一起的时候常常说。不必想语言，习惯和国籍，嘴里的烟，手中的酒就是证明。Yann Tiersen对我来说，在那天已经散去，朋友们也已经散去，生活也散去了许多。

10点半入场，12点散场的演唱会来了也离开了很多，说不定你也可以在某tube上找到你在现场的证明，然后留下欣慰的眼泪，然后在耳朵里也可以塞上同样的曲目，回味无穷。