墙

从前有一个男人,找到了一个神奇的酒杯,如果他的眼泪落入杯子里,就会立刻变成一颗珍珠. 虽然他一直以来都很贫穷,生活没有保障,但他却是个十分开心的人,从不落泪.于是他开始寻找能够让自己伤心的方法,这样他的眼泪就可以把他变得富有. 珍珠在一颗颗地积累,贪婪也随之膨胀.故事的最后一幅画面,是这个男人坐在一座珍珠山上,手握利刃,他挚爱的妻子在他怀中已死许久,他只绝望无助地哭向酒杯.

just recently finish reading The Currency Wars by Song Hong Bing for the second time. As much as am enlightened to realize we are no better than unaware frogs on a slowly frying wok, the notion that we r living so blindfoldly scares me more than any conspiratory scheme ever contrived as introduced in the book. how can we just so naturally presume that the so-called justices will serve as we were taught growing up. after i was convinced and basically every otherwise opportunity was ruled out, the question of fairness, social equality and distribution of wealth has become such an ill-advised no-brainer. hell, no. 95% of the people are indeed played so foolishly by the other 5%. democracy as a concept is so cooked from the get-go. it serves its purpose of feeding the rich as good as socialism serves its bureaucracy. except socialism can be very easily translated to nationalism or collectivism, which sure as hell can be a double-sided sword when the post-olympic china-bashing begins. but democracy is such a nice-sounding word that paints you a picture that you couldn't sleep thinking about. it's the land of the free, it's civilization, it's modern, it's you and me holding hands. but will we be every bit as happy as advertised? yes, to only that 5%. bankers mostly. a very old HongKong gangster movie line suddenly occured to me, "there are only two types of people on earth, one is smart, one is dumb."  i guess if u wanna get anything out of life more than survival, u'd better live it smart.  at the end of the day, all of our struggles for a better life better not to wind up at the last resort. 

我小时侯每年的夏末秋初，北京通常会下几场很急的雨。桶楼前的甬道上会铺开几毫米厚的“雨河”，时急时缓地奔向地势低洼的井盖或者下水道里。天色一变，我通常就会开始准备，着手叠我的纸船。那时邻家几个孩子之间顽皮的战争，是站在楼道口，同时放下自己的纸船，看哪个漂地最快最远。我偶尔会赢，多数时候是输，但每次下雨，我总是会很开心，那时候没想过为什么，只是看着纸船漂在雨水中远去，心里面充满了兴奋。

 

对我而言，一杯十四欧元的咖啡和雀巢速融尝起来本没有太大区别，可是此时傍晚，广场四周琴声环绕，一对中年夫妇的身影在我眼前的地上翩然而舞，在这些十分安静的音符里，我更觉得，我在品尝一杯原汁原味的自己。见过不少描绘孤独的句子，没有一句比这咖啡形容地漂亮。笑迎着天下爱侣的威尼斯，对一个独行至此的过客，表现出理所应当的鄙夷。圣马可广场再往南行几步，就是叹息桥。从12世纪开始，这里就是押往监狱的囚徒们回望尘世最后一眼的地方。这是座很短的石桥，透过精致雕琢的镂空，刚刚能够瞥到外面的情景。时间不能改变的东西是人类的忧愁，今天我所叹息的仍然是囹圄，我所张望地恐怕也依旧是自由。

 

有人说来到威尼斯，如果不迷路，反而是一种迷失。这是叫我们走入它的时候，要学会失去方向。通常地图会带你到达的地方，今天脚步就可以。因此，来到这里的人，很少不自信，很难不潇洒，因为前行的目的不再是追赶。走进一家餐馆，点了道驰名的墨鱼面，吃过之后会把牙齿染黑的那种。我当然不是故作风雅，邻桌的美国老太太捂着嘴笑了半天，我才意识到原来自己吃相不堪。这里由118个小岛组成，约400座桥。威尼斯可爱的传统，让新人乘着贡多拉，在每一段桥下拥吻以表达他们忠贞不渝的爱情，我觉得实在有些麻烦。

 

我的旅馆，在广场的对岸，我深夜一人独坐，街灯与我漠然遥望。忽然间我意识到自己就是那条纸船，不知觉地在美好的雨天里前行，不知道自己多远多快，也似乎没什么开心兴奋，只想尽快停靠，摆脱这海水的咸腥。用罗盘换几杯兰姆，驱驱一路而来的风寒。

承诺是飘渺，永恒是虚无．只想把自己燃烬，化成你阳台上望去的夕阳．或者把自己燃烬，然后死在你怀里．此时这刻，是爱情唯一存在意义的瞬间．

下一个枫叶飘散的秋天，不知道还会不会站在这门前，清扫昨日吹乱的寂寞．那些歌唱着到天明的誓言，总是人们又觊觎，又害怕的东西．怕醒来后原来是场长梦．白天醒来的时候欢喜它的真实，晚上睡觉前又开始担心明晨就那样散去．这样日日夜夜的一辈子，让生命在爱情面前矮了半头．我们都不该试图去爱另一个人一辈子，而该去爱那个人每一天．每一分钟，每一秒钟，或者更小的什么单位．爱情和喜欢本质的不同在于，想要把自己燃烬成尘．　　

中国这一年灾祸不断，全国上下都过的很辛苦．祝福祖国能够平安，更希望国人能够团结，勇敢．