For My Perfect Moment

        一批成功的美国50岁的人被采访：什么是你希望你25岁时有过来人告诉你的话。最多的三个回答：1）不要被世俗教条蒙蔽，追随你的心和梦想；2）关注你的家庭和你爱的人；3）享受人生体验和珍惜快乐时光。

       “ 不要被世俗教条蒙蔽”，我很高兴说我没有，不要企图用个例覆灭我的信仰。我不奢望能说服你们，因此也请你们不要枉费力量……

    It was a crash. A car came across me when I was driving making a phone call. No big deal. They just hit. 
    Fortunately, everyone's fine at least physically.
    But deep inside me, a CRASH occured. And it is like a slow motion shooting which lasted for months and would last like forever.
    I don't know what happened to me. You may say it might be him. I highly doubt. No, not about him, at least not all about him.
    Someone met me, told me that he had a crush on me. I know he wasn't lying, not for his Lindt chocolate, Swarovski or those phone calls to me and my relatives. I saw through his eyes and found sparkles there. I know what it's  like to see someone you really love. When I stayed inside the car looking across the East Lake's choppy water, I couldn't help thinking about those days when I was dreaming about these days, these future days. I missed me, the old me in those days when I could smile just because of some fairy dream no matter it could happen or not, when I was happier than I ever thought I could be in these days. I missed the whole bounch of  things in thoese days which could easily make me laugh to tears.
     I met my friends today. I realized that a lot of my friends are leaving me for the job, the lover or even for me. I laughed at their jokes with sorrowful tears in my eyes. I just wanted to grab them and tied them into those chairs forever. I know they're leaving for good reasons. I just can't accept the slince they would leave behind. You know I really like them.
     John Mayson's website opens again. I'm shocked by his recent works, his wonderful imaginations. He was a stranger I went into at 798 art factory.  We made fiends in about 5 hours. We became strangers again within 1 minute. I missed him, for his friendly talk, for his amazing paint and photos. But still, he is no more than a passer-by in my life like the man I once loved for 4 years.
     The CRASH tears me into pieces. They flutter and fall there with a sigh.

我小小的记忆犹如雨滴之于大海，那么的渺小，所以把它埋藏在大海里，我不必担心它能兴风作雨。
可是为什么会有潮汐？月渐圆，人渐缺，那些雨滴们随着潮汐夹杂着咸咸的味道一遍一遍的拍打着我脆弱的神经……
我可以很快乐，但这一刻，请让我尽情的欣赏潮汐，安静的回忆……

      一直等到了veryCD上出了月食的DVD版，发现VC上那些极具sense of humor的网友们不是声讨Belle就是咒怨Jacob。
      确实，看到现在，觉得暮色的剧情越来越迟暮了，但Jacob是我唯一看下去的理由。
      Edward深爱着Belle，但是Jacob's always in the way. 对于B和E来说，估计太困扰了，可站在J的右肩——通常天使站的地方，除了爱，我还看到了他的执着与倔强，不论距离、不论死亡、甚至不论另一份爱的存在，相比E曾经的放弃，相比大多数人的退缩，他有着值得我爱的坚持与勇气！
      写完上面那些，我想起了Yale心理学公开课里的某些观点，我只得承认喜欢J的原因和佛洛依德的潜意识有点关系……

      学校旁边建了个别院，上书“美术学院”四个大字，2010年7月25日，我正式收到了录取通知，进入别院攻读美术硕士学位。
      我拿着录取通知，满眼迷茫，难道我要去读个双硕回来？而且直接读美术硕士，我怎么考取的啊？！
      满心疑虑的进了别院，这古朴的建筑更像是教习五行术数的道院。在内院小脚门的台阶上我见到了我的美术导师——白须飘飘的干瘪老头，和我印象中带着贝雷帽叼着烟斗的画家形象还是有些许的出入。身旁是我的同门师兄弟，一个很有气质的中国男孩，和一个像是捷克来的帅小伙子。
      我很紧张，一方面我有自知之明，Painting is the last thing I could ever imagine！我的导师倒也真是个艺术老头，很轻柔地对我们仨说，开学第一天，你们有一个小测验——24小时内，画一幅2米见方的壁画！
      我有些无助，但却似乎并不那么焦躁与绝望。我在木质的楼梯间缓慢地踱步，听着年老失修的吱呀声……那个捷克小伙子倒是显得焦急，来回问着导师问题，而那个中国人则胸有成竹似地在墙壁上挥洒开了，没半天功夫，墙面便出现了壁画的轮廓——轿车围堵下的圣婴。显然导师大为欣赏这副画作与创意，亦拿起笔为他的画作填了几笔，并给出了些许建议，我安静的站在一旁聆听，手里拿着画笔。等导师说完话，我低调的走过去，对他说——老师，我觉得我没法画完这副壁画，我失去想象力了！然后眼泪夺眶而出……导师拍拍我的肩，安慰我道：这只是第一课，不是教你画画，而是教你面对——不是每一个时刻都是你人生的巅峰，你要学会应对枯竭时的苦痛！我拼命的点着头，转身夺门而出，一瞬间看见那个中国人无辜却心疼的眼神……
        我醒了，双眼迷离，这居然也能算是继上2个古装梦后最靠谱的一个了！

      当看到qq上亮着的彩虹，很心痛却又很温暖，那边在听这首歌，很温暖却有很心痛……
      我忍不住开口问道Have you changed already？
      H2：No, Nothing's gonna change my love for you, FOREVER...
       甚至没有在意这句话是否真的有意义，但是我真的相信！

       我又想起了丽江，想起你不再会出现在我身旁，四方街广场上点着蜡烛，小青年们打着东巴鼓，谈着吉他，唱着传奇，唱着那些花儿，唱着那些熟悉的歌谣……一段段地回忆起四年却似一生的美好，想象你在那个晚会上第一次看见我，回忆在教室里撞到你凝视我的眼光，看见你站在华师的小道上捧着郁金香时的不知所措，想起在舞会上领我跳舞时你紧张到冰凉的手，打开装着你PS的我们照片的巧克力，在寝室边的小花园里掉着眼泪告诉你我认识这只蚂蚁，从满是花瓣的大盒子里刨出一个小小的装着的项链红盒，一次又一次翻开你写给我的情书，告诉我多少年过去我依旧深爱着你……
       音乐还在唱响，漫天都是低到可以伸手抓住的繁星，我是那样平静地给身旁的师弟讲着刘若英的故事，却早已在心底哭过笑过好多次……
       丽江美在哪里？是那青的砖，木的墙，玉龙雪山上的天堂，还是峭壁上的一米阳光？是那一个又一个美得让人心疼的传说，如果你相信那个古老的传说，是不是也会相信川夏在云杉坪上的那一越呢？

       I would forget all. I said so.
       However, I've tried so hard.

I dreamed a dream last night.
And it's exactly like this song.
Angel of the morning...

I think it might be the anger that makes it much easier to bare. 
But now I can barely remember the cruel Shakespeare who tears us apart, barely remember the anger, the pain, even the end.
Sometimes I feel release from the bottom of my heart.
I just know that one day right there some place will enter my happiness.
I truely believe.

      上海，让我想想，是什么时候真的感受到它的美丽，应该是那夜的戌时，当我在外滩嗅到了江的味道……让我感觉到了上海就系在我家边上。然后，那夜子时，我体会到了久违却又新鲜的快乐……像迷迭香一样，放松了我所有的神经，那一刻，我忘记了我左手拽着的四年半的回忆……

      我是那样的不想离开，因为我知道，回来后那一切的熟悉又将拽着我一遍遍的回忆那些令人悲伤的幸福曾经，一刻不停的提醒着我放开左手……为什么中国这么大，太大了，大得让人伤心……

For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin-real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned onto me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment that you have. And remember that time waits for no one. So stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school; until you get married, until you get divorced; until you have kids, until your kids leave home; until you start work, until you retire; until you get a new car or home; until spring; until you are born again to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy.... 　　Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So,
　　Work like you don't need money,
　　Love like you've never been hurt,
　　And dance like no one's watching.