Sleeping to Dream

Bryan没有想到,悲哀竟也具有延时性——过去的鬼魂又找上来,而这一次,他再也没有力气抵抗。

如果要现在的他形容一下悲哀的形状,他会说像流体,在胸口中盛着,走路时候会晃着,撒出一点来腐蚀他的心。躺下的时候开始平稳地流淌,唯有随着心跳一起颤动。

至于温度,绝对算不上冰凉,是温热的,比胸腔的温度稍高一点,不断缓缓释放热量烘烤着心脏,这感觉就像…文火慢炖,和着痛苦熬煮,却总也煮不熟,活跃的神经持续提醒着他痛苦的滋味。

这个世界上只有一种超距作用——那就是在他后脑勺操控着这锅深渊之汤的回忆们,在与雨打浮萍般的命运一同酿制发酵了一年有余的前一段时间,在他打开这件装满废弃回忆的地窖门的时候,酿好的鬼混带着温暖甜蜜的愉悦与怨恨气味,一下子涌上来让他犹如被一击重锤击中——这表现在我看来实属羞愧,或者说明白一点,羞愧到无地自容,我从来没见到他这样过。真诚自信却又年轻坦荡,现在却迷失在时间的之中,他分不清哪些事情发生在现在,哪些事情发生在两年前,哪些事情他以为发生在昨天却其实已经过去了一年。这些他在过去的一年里以为自己已经早已丢失的回忆,最终以一种如此清晰可见的形式弥散在所有有序的其他回忆之中,如同癌症一般感染。更早些的干净回忆如今也开始有了严厉的棱角,游荡在他的脑子里。

可惜可怜的Bryan只是一位可悲的一维时间生物,不知道自己的脑子在某些时刻中只充当着传音媒介的作用,将久远的信息传递给无数次迭代后的自己,同时做着带着淡淡悲哀的自信蠢事。这一刻他终于意识到了,夹在神与野兽中的人性的悲凉,然而仍然不受控制,要为这螺旋悲剧做祭品。

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Ode on Melancholy

BY JOHN KEATS


No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

此刻他满腹凄惶,可怜的Bryan。