间奏曲 : 短篇故事
浑浑噩噩的故事记录
“被人性玷污的天堂迟早会消失，即时，它会变得纯净，随后毫无踪影”
在云彩和海面交融的地方，我们进入一处世外桃源的港口，作为世上最后一份日报的忠实读者，我立刻辨认出礁石的独特性（金光闪闪，却十分轻薄），这片世界深处的土地及一切是由长年旅行而来的星尘筑起，人们经常来找寻神性，却从未得道。
那些笨重的皮靴被这香艳气氛所吸引，我在岸边驻足良久，部队不停向前去。我顺着雾气向高地望去，人们好似着了迷，争先恐后地奔跑；很快，他们一个个在记忆中凭空消失
“这算什么呢？人又不是泡沫，炸开就不见了。”
在这里的时日已经过去三天，天空不断降下来自东方故土的信件，纸张里全是空白，并且沉重无比。通往高地的路上全是岩石，偶尔见零星野花；启程以来，从未见过活物，只能透过飘荡的雾气听见水声。（这景象与一副无法追朔来源的画很像）野花的数量随着时辰变化增长，他们不断挖苦迷路的我，直到富饶的植被落在眼前。
1. 花绒之上
时间以一种神秘的方式逃开了，身边的植物牢牢锁住一切。黄昏驱散饥饿感，却不会致死。
每次入睡的时候，彷徨的同伴都会出现。
这里的花永远在绽放，心蕊则亲吻自身，并且散发暖光和一种迷人的香气，即便毁坏他们，也无法看清道路。 在桃源的天空中，从未有太阳踪影。
2. 终点
寒流骤起，植物枯萎，雾气散去，期盼已久的石阶引导步伐，高地逐渐显现
奇怪的是
河水一动不动，好似生长在土壤中
潺潺水声却仍然从天而降
清澈，动听
后记
清晨前倾，野花漫山遍野
浓雾将山峰和我
紧紧包裹
2019.12.14 纽约
浑浑噩噩的故事记录
“被人性玷污的天堂迟早会消失，即时，它会变得纯净，随后毫无踪影”
✽
在云彩和海面交融的地方，我们进入一处世外桃源的港口，作为世上最后一份日报的忠实读者，我立刻辨认出礁石的独特性（金光闪闪，却十分轻薄），这片世界深处的土地及一切是由长年旅行而来的星尘筑起，人们经常来找寻神性，却从未得道。
那些笨重的皮靴被这香艳气氛所吸引，我在岸边驻足良久，部队不停向前去。我顺着雾气向高地望去，人们好似着了迷，争先恐后地奔跑；很快，他们一个个在记忆中凭空消失
“这算什么呢？人又不是泡沫，炸开就不见了。”
✽
在这里的时日已经过去三天，天空不断降下来自东方故土的信件，纸张里全是空白，并且沉重无比。通往高地的路上全是岩石，偶尔见零星野花；启程以来，从未见过活物，只能透过飘荡的雾气听见水声。（这景象与一副无法追朔来源的画很像）野花的数量随着时辰变化增长，他们不断挖苦迷路的我，直到富饶的植被落在眼前。
1. 花绒之上
时间以一种神秘的方式逃开了，身边的植物牢牢锁住一切。黄昏驱散饥饿感，却不会致死。
每次入睡的时候，彷徨的同伴都会出现。
这里的花永远在绽放，心蕊则亲吻自身，并且散发暖光和一种迷人的香气，即便毁坏他们，也无法看清道路。 在桃源的天空中，从未有太阳踪影。
2. 终点
寒流骤起，植物枯萎，雾气散去，期盼已久的石阶引导步伐，高地逐渐显现
奇怪的是
河水一动不动，好似生长在土壤中
潺潺水声却仍然从天而降
清澈，动听
后记
清晨前倾，野花漫山遍野
浓雾将山峰和我
紧紧包裹
2019.12.14 纽约
Intermezzo: A Short StoryMuddleheaded Story-log
“Sooner or later, all heavens tainted with humanity will be lost: purified at first, then gone without a trace”
Where the clouds and the sea met and blended, we steered into the port of an Arcadia, and as a loyal reader of the last daily-paper on earth, I immediately recognized the uniqueness of the reef (glittering, yet thin and brittle enough); at the depth of the world, this very piece of land, together with all that had been born with, on and to it, was made of, and by, the stardust in constant voyage; often did men come for divinity, though none had left enlightened.
Those heavy and awkward boots cajoled by scents of boudoir, the troops marched on, and on, while I stood for long beside the sea; I looked up the mist toward the Elevation; people were more obsessed than attracted, swarming, scrambling; and soon, they one by one, and all in the mind, disappeared into thin air...
“What of it? Men are not foams. They don’t vanish at burst.”
1. Above the Flower Velvet
Time fled in a mysterious way, everything kept dead-locked by the plants nearby. The twilight talked hunger off, but nothing to death.
Every time I fell asleep, up my companions showed, bewildered in drift.
Flowers here were forever in bloom, and blooming, while stamens and pistils kissing themselves at heart, glowing warmly, letting out a bewitching sort of scent: destroy them as you might, the path remained a blur.
In the Arcadian sky, there’s not a helio-trace.
2. Terminus
Cold wave in storm-rise, flora withered, and mist cleared: steps led by long-longed steps of stone, the Elevation emerged, poco a poco.
The weird thing was:
The river stayed still, as if ingrained in soil
but still the purl’s greeting us from high above in allegro
Clear and pleasant
Epilogue
Themorning leaned forward, wild flowers all over
The steep peaks, and me
Fetus-ed in the fluid mist
December 14, 2019 New York
“Sooner or later, all heavens tainted with humanity will be lost: purified at first, then gone without a trace”
✽
Where the clouds and the sea met and blended, we steered into the port of an Arcadia, and as a loyal reader of the last daily-paper on earth, I immediately recognized the uniqueness of the reef (glittering, yet thin and brittle enough); at the depth of the world, this very piece of land, together with all that had been born with, on and to it, was made of, and by, the stardust in constant voyage; often did men come for divinity, though none had left enlightened.
Those heavy and awkward boots cajoled by scents of boudoir, the troops marched on, and on, while I stood for long beside the sea; I looked up the mist toward the Elevation; people were more obsessed than attracted, swarming, scrambling; and soon, they one by one, and all in the mind, disappeared into thin air...
“What of it? Men are not foams. They don’t vanish at burst.”
✽
It had been three days here. Letters from home (the far East-land) kept pouring down: all blank sheets of paper, heavy as hell. The path to the Elevation was covered with rocks, sporadically wild-flowered. Since we set sail, nothing alive had been in sight; only the voice of water came survived through the drifting mist. (The scene resembles a painting of unidentifiable source.) As hours shifted, there were more flowers to count; I got so lost in their ironic smiles, until I saw the verdant green.1. Above the Flower Velvet
Time fled in a mysterious way, everything kept dead-locked by the plants nearby. The twilight talked hunger off, but nothing to death.
Every time I fell asleep, up my companions showed, bewildered in drift.
Flowers here were forever in bloom, and blooming, while stamens and pistils kissing themselves at heart, glowing warmly, letting out a bewitching sort of scent: destroy them as you might, the path remained a blur.
In the Arcadian sky, there’s not a helio-trace.
2. Terminus
Cold wave in storm-rise, flora withered, and mist cleared: steps led by long-longed steps of stone, the Elevation emerged, poco a poco.
The weird thing was:
The river stayed still, as if ingrained in soil
but still the purl’s greeting us from high above in allegro
Clear and pleasant
Epilogue
Themorning leaned forward, wild flowers all over
The steep peaks, and me
Fetus-ed in the fluid mist
December 14, 2019 New York