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Hanna | 7th Feb 2010 | 時間的灰 | (10 Reads)
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有一年夏天,风不停地吹。

与你相见的时候,天很黑。
任何的言语都阻挡我们相爱。
在最后,所有人都祝福我们,但是我们却输给了轻狂的任性。


我仰起头,乳白色的两个想我微笑,我晕眩。只有那么一点光,背景是深邃空洞的黑色。这么的一点光亮被夜色包裹,寂寞无力,孤独脆弱。我从未如此认真的看过这一点光,我以为我不需要这点微弱的光,我也能在漆黑中用信心找到你。
感情也不外如是,脆弱不堪,当我发现我的自己潦草,我的心不在焉。在这样的夏天中已经不背拼挤接纳。就是在这样多情的时刻,我们中指了包容和期待。
我们走不下去了,不争着了,不要伪善地给我温馨一场。有的时候,我只是想有个人对我点头微笑。即使是陌生人也好。
我不需要你的欲言又止了。我不猜测,不说明白,不说理解。
可是我还是要问,你是善意地不肯道破还是离不开呢?
我宁愿你是怕伤害我,而不是残忍地欺骗我。

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这个城市有太多关于我们的回忆碎片。我需要时间去注意收拾。我还来不及痊愈
在你离开之后的天空,我像风筝寻一个梦。

快乐都是微小的事情。


后记:照片文字都是那个夏天的。早几天在收拾东西的时候,找到这么一张纸,上面写着这样的文字。照片是07年夏天,一个外派活动,在沙滩边照的。做了黑白色处理。
有些事情,我记不住了。忘记了那个时候的感觉。某些人的脸在记忆中逐渐模糊了。因为我们越走越远。

如果这个世界是一个童话,那么我会抱着想象去实现。
如果现在的我再去看一次安徒生童话,我想那些再也不是简单的故事了。
巫婆昼夜不断地炼也炼不出的快乐,在哪里?

Hanna | 7th Feb 2010 | 碎碎的詩 | (1 Reads)
有个模样很好看的男人看了又看我的驾驶证,然后一边微笑着跟我说,“生日快乐,迟到的。”一边在我的左手手腕盖了一个小小的特别黑印。
我说谢谢,便要向前走。音乐越来越大声,脚步越来越没力,视力所及的空洞越来越接近脸庞。
我仿佛要被这样的喧闹和黑暗吞噬。但是我心里明白,是我自己向这个地方靠近,是我在指使我的鼻子呼吸这样的瘴气。

在寸步难行的厅子里找到Jill.在微醺的灯光里,我看着她浓厚的眼线赋予眼睛夸张的色彩,但是眼神是迷离的。就像迷路的小兔。
我需要一点的酒精让我更加迷糊地看这些陌生的脸,感受这些陌生的拥抱。
很多的人告诉我他们的名字,但是不消一秒,我就忘记了,甚至我没有挺清楚他们说什么。
我也总是不习惯告诉别人我的名字,因为我们都知道我们不会再见面,问问名字,只是礼貌上的,只是无话可说之下所要说的。
于是,在他们自我介绍之后,期待着我说出自己的名字,就会有那么几秒中的沉默尴尬。于是不了了之。

我不喜欢这样交朋友。

我想起看过的一部影片,在男人在海边救起企图自杀的女人的那一刻,我以为,他们会有故事,男人会背叛妻子,与她沉沦般相爱,然后故事很唯美,也很凄美。连一个拥抱都能让人心碎,连轻轻地哀叹都能让天地动容。但是在最后,他们没有我预想中的那样爱在围城外。
男人帮女人找到她当初爱的人,然后女人跟她爱的人生了个孩子,要男人起名。他真心地欢喜。

原来这个世界也有很多的平凡。

我看着被画布挡住的窗口,试着找一颗闪亮的星星。

Hanna | 7th Feb 2010 | 胡亂妖言 | (5 Reads)

这两天舌头长疮,很痛,然后脸上冒痘,讨厌得要死。 我想可能是最近看尸体看多了。然后梦里又常常出现那鲜活的,整齐的切口。一定是憋出来的。别人不是说,国外的学生都憋成思想家。思想家都是不修边幅的。我还是算挺斯文的哪一类的。 在我打这篇东西的时候,我的左脸的某一点有点痛,因为那个祛痘的东西在作用。 唉。 恐龙给我买的药到底还是不起作用,她要是看到这句话,又会说我不懂感激了。我还是要说的,她买的牛仔裤有一条是掉色的。她一定会抓狂了。但是我还是深爱你的。虽然你笨,你懒,你粗鲁,你没有文化,你没有素质,你说话大声,你是垃圾,你是败类,但是我还是爱你的。 这些日子以来,我什么都想说说。 “ 早上炉头,晚上枕头。” 我好想把这句话写进歌里面,然后让我弟弟大声地唱出来。 这是来自一个在餐馆打工的留美华人口中的。 他对着炉头感受生活比我对着时尚Laptop感受生活还要深刻。 我知道我们不该消极,可是我们无奈。 我们不知道在这里做什么。也不知道背井离乡来到这个陌生的国家是否就生活得比过去好了。 有个在哈佛读医学博士学位的中国人满脑子就是想着跟个年轻女孩子在夜里去哪里搂搂抱抱,亲一下调调情。 有个在餐馆埋着头留着汗挥动手臂吵着宫保鸡丁心里还惦记着ABCD怎么念的勤勤恳恳的中国人。 有人说他不会生活,只会工作,简直就是头牛。目不识丁,但是至少肯做。 美国人说他抢了他们的工作,但是却学不会他做的工作,也不愿意做他做的工做。 工资不高,但是工作量很大。喊苦喊累,却从不告假。 难得有天休息,又要忙着交水费电费煤气费,或者看个医生。天又黑了,洗了衣服吃了顿饭,少了早上炉头的晚上枕头却别扭了。 太阳出来,又是对着炉头的早上。 尽管嘴里念叨着行尸走肉的生活,心里却从不向生活低头,至少不向非洲裔领导低头。 我们对你的就职演说没有兴趣,不懂得你说谁站在历史的WRONG SIDE. 让我有点后悔为你住进白宫走过来站在你的SIDE. 黑白相冲的。


Hanna | 7th Feb 2010 | 鬱鬱寡歡

That is  a sad story. Before I tell you this heartbreaking story, please let me introduce the author of < The Rape of Nanking>


Her name is Iris Chang. She was born in New Jersey, a daughter of the victims of the war. Her immigrant parents had escaped from China via Taiwan to the United States During the Nanking Massacre.


After the book was published, one reporter asked Chang, “ Why did you write this book?”


She replied: “ Nazi Germany is well known in the world, people know how many died for this, but few people in the world know what Japanese Army has done to Chinese.”


Her grandpa worked for the Nanking government, when the Japanese army entered the  Nanking City, started being brutal and inhuman, he was killed. Also a lot of the residents of Nanking city were killed by the Japanese army with no reason. The Japanese army raped the women, sliced the babies not just in half but in thirds and fourths, the pregnant women were tormented by the Japanese army, further more, they buried the young, strong men even they were alive and healthy. 


There were more than 300 thousand people died in the Nanking massacre.


When I was reading this book, I was suddenly in a panic that this is terrifying disrespect for death and dying. I do know that was war, but Japanese army should not have been so cruel. 


However, this is history, and we need to look forward and move forward. We would love to join with others in a peaceful union, but history should not be forgotten or denied.


We didn’t make this up. In deed, there are outright pictures and documents and empirical ways to tell the truth. Some people might think the instrument in the quest of the harmful warfare is Chang’s personal thoughts, for example, the what she was told by her parents who had survived in the massacre. In fact, that is not true, the history is the foolproof. Regardless of the admitting of the Japanese army’s enormity, the harm has been created. We would never forget this jeremiad.


The Japanese are very deceitful, they deny what they have done. And I think they are standing in the wrong side of the history-like President Obama said in the public when he became the president of the United States. Please be honest, don’t be a betrayal of the history.


This is impossible to deny. The 300000 people died, the city fell. The tears, the blood, the lives, the screaming, the horror and the pain would never be forgotten.

The Japanese said, the massacre of Nanking did not happen, this is a deception. The development of Japan is not bad, they don’t want the world know they have ugly history, they want people believe that they are a beautiful country. They tried to throw a veil over the true history. And Iris Chang has dedicated her own life to get the truth told, she took the victim’s pain as her own, her weapon is her word.


It’s done, the page is filled, with blood and tears. She is gone, but the book is still in bookstores, it is not vain, the world will finally hear.


Before I write this, I googled a lot of informations, because I don’t want to make my word sounds like a false story. For instance, I read the articles on wikipedia, in addition, I watched the related videos on youtube. The American People also wrote something about the holocaust on their own website, which has indicate the enormities that the Japanese army had done to the Chinese in 1937. They did mention <The Rape of Nanking>


I love my country more than anything in the world, I never bought Japan airline ticket when I went back to China, I don’t buy Japanese products, things made in China are good enough to use. People may say I am insane, but that is the way I love my country. I wish I was able to write a history book as a simple instrument for political deception.


I am proud that my country is booming. 


To my well-beloved great writer-Iris Chang. 



Epilogue 

Chang suffered a nervous breakdown. Before she began to write the book, she made several trips to China in order to find the victims of the massacre in Nanking city, she was told a lot of heartbreaking stories. In her mother’s word is:: “The book made her sad.” After the book was published, Chang received hate mails,threatening notes on her car and believed her phone was tapped. She would respond overwhelmingly to any question of the validity of her work. Succumbing to her battle with depression, Chang laid hands on herself in the winter of 2003 in California, in age 28.


You gave your voice to the voiceless, cried out for justice. Even though, you left behind, but your spirit lives on, we would pass it on.


Hanna | 7th Feb 2010 | 有時安靜
I watched a documentary on The rape of Nanking recently and was astounded that I had never heard of this before. Coined “The forgotten holocaust of World War II,” in a period of 6 weeks between 20-80,000 women were raped and hundreds of thousands of Chinese civilians were killed by the Imperial Japanese Army in 1937.

The documentary I watched showed the massive devastation in this area, old traumatised Chinese people recounting how they watched every member of their family raped and killed before their eyes, there was still rubble and war remnants to be seen everywhere. How did I not know about this? How did the world let this pass them by?

The documentary told the story of Iris Chang, a young American Chinese who had Grandparents in Nanking and decided to investigate the few hints she had heard that something huge and unspoken had occurred in a quiet provincial town in China. As a young journalist, she absorbed herself in the stories and tragedy of Nanking and wrote one of history’s only accounts of this massacre, genocide, what ever word you use to describe the deaths of countless thousands.

Tragically, Iris Chang took her own life some years after writing this book. She was so tormented by what she had seen that her optimism turned to cynicism and her passion turned to despair. I sat wide-eyed throughout the whole documentary. The brutal honesty of the deaths and rape of innocent citizens was hard to swallow, and then the tragedy of Iris Chang committing suicide just clinched the frugality of this world we live in and the danger of living it with the absence of hope.

After finishing the book on Nanking, Iris went on to research and write about some of the world’s other unspoken tragedies. I think she became so disempowered by the evil around her, so disenchanted by the state of man that she lost her will to live in this world. Her death was a wake up call to me. I think when you sorround yourself with gross injustice and immerse yourself in some of the greatest acts of evil, you can’t pretend it isn’t going to silently affect you. Coping mechanisms, good friends to debrief with, outlets need to be created to help process the things you are seeing. I need to set more of these things up!!

I have always been utilitarian – believing that it is better for one person to suffer for the sake of many. I would rather live as a slave if it meant thousands could be free, that kinda thing… but Iris Chang has challenged my views. Yes, she got the story out about the Rape of Nanking. Thousands of people from Nanking feel vindicated, heard, validated through people knowing their story, the world now knows what happened in Nanking and this serves as a reminder and warning about the capabilities of evil in every man….. BUT…Iris Chang told this story at the cost of her own. So noble, I know, but she was such an incredible writer, so passionate, so brutally honest I wonder how many other people she could have advocated for, provided hope for if she had lived many more years. I wonder what would have given her that hope and strength she needed to stay in the game and not take her own life.

Hanna | 3rd Jan 2010 | 有時安靜 | (12 Reads)

09年的最后一天,把最后的一个病人送进了手术室,我一个人坐在电脑前,外面飘着雪花。

早上很暖和。经过那个冰雕的时候,发现她正在融化,像个哭泣的姑娘。
是谁辜负了你呢?是谁让你的等待变成留在地上的一滩水?

不知道现在下了一场不大不小的雪,那姑娘怎么样了呢?
很想去看看她。

昨天躺在床上很认真地又一字不漏地看了《在黑水的日子》
心里很不是滋味。总觉得我自己差了点什么东西。
我要在我今年生日的那一天给自己买一张去四川的机票。如果哪位朋友想要给我送礼物,请事先联系。可折现。感激。

其实对于山区的情况,说太多,愤怒太多,怜惜太多,没有用。
他说孩子们不缺衣物不缺文具。缺的是水电和好的教育。
但是我没有办法让他们有水和电,或者好的教育。
我希望我的国家富饶,人们自力更生。但是我知道不是现在。
我终于懂得先让一部分人富起来的意思,但是这富起来的人都不愿意建设社会主义。
我们是不是走错了一条路?是不是我们理想化了这些事实?

每个人的生活方式都不一样。我不敢说那些在我们眼里看起来可怜的孩子们是不是每天都在埋怨命不好。
人知足就会开心。
富有的人不是拥有的太多,而是需要的很少。
我不见得我比他们快乐。但是在我的价值观看来,我比他们有更多的机会和条件去追求我要的梦想。
我最近都在想,怎么样可以在最短的时间考到RN
在这里我有点小迷惑,我怕我急于求成,到头来得不偿失。所以我觉得还是慢慢来,谨慎地走好每一步。
但是白白说要快刀斩乱麻。
我就迷惑了。
迷惑是因为我还不了解我自己。我觉得这是可怜的。

好久没有在网上看到云云。昨晚很偶然地看到她灰色头像的签名:2009年完成了两件大事。
结婚跟生孩子。
她说小虫很可爱,我也很想抱抱这个可爱的孩子。

以后我们会走得很远。

2010,我很期待。


Hanna | 3rd Jan 2010 | 時間的灰 | (1 Reads)

昨天晚上跟颜同学进行着漫长而没有意义的对话。
他说他要改一个永久的英文名字。
我很不屑。
因为他的英文名字常常换。我印象中在这一年内就已经换了三次了。
但是他说这次改了,就以后都不会改了。
我怀疑他的决心。所以没有打算去帮他苦思冥想一个。再说他说不要自己造字。

我说你可以叫HILTON发音跟他中文名字一样。他就向我竖起中指了。真不友善。
然后我说要不HUTO或者HUDO
他说HUDO让他想起ALDO
然后我们把眼睛锁定在HUGO
我说,你衬不起这个名字。在我看来,叫HUGO的男人都是西装笔挺,很斯文,很理性的。
他反驳,说他很斯文,很成熟。
我说你不是。

断断续续地说了一会。我有点累了。想睡觉,但是他死缠烂打。
我说你叫PEPPERONI好了,要不就BACON
他就恨死我了。
说着说着就不爽了。他说你叫BBQ PORK
我说你叫PEKING DUCK

我们一边在MSN上说这无棱两可的话。一边发着EMAIL说着心里话。
他在EMAIL里说爱我,不爱我的时候是因为心情不好。
这明明就不是真爱。

但是我还是很高兴,那么多年过去了,7年了,你还是爱我如初。
我也一样爱你。

我宁愿你没有在恋爱,这样你会有更多的时间在与我交谈。
我有很多的话想跟你说。很多的小事情要跟你分享。
我想跟你说我喜欢的人,喜欢我的人。
我想告诉你球赛结束了,邻居漆了粉红色的篱笆,今天下雪了,哪个商场有特价了。。。
我也想听你跟我说你的他,即使我相信你们不会天长地久,但是在你说很喜欢他,他很好的时候,我希望你不要想太多,尽情地快乐就好。


其实我不愿意改我的名字。但是你说只要你叫KORY 我叫KORI
我们就会永远是一对。我就很开心。相信这样你也不会随便改了自己的名字。

以后,我要告诉我的他。为什么我叫KORI


Hanna | 3rd Jan 2010 | 碎碎的詩 | (2 Reads)

最近遇到的一些陌生人。

在09年的最后一天,我想感谢这些与我擦肩而过的人。

 1,傍晚的时分,天色已经黑了。很冷,冷得街上只有寒风肆虐的声音。

我站在那个露天的站台等着进城的列车,冷得发抖。

有个老奶奶对我说,戴上你的手套会暖一点。
 那天,我没有戴手套。
后来我告诉恐龙这个瞬间。
恐龙说,你真幸福,连陌生人都关心你。
这句话像投进平静如镜的湖面的小石头。涟漪是心头上的一点小伤痛。
是不是我忽略了些什么?

 2,在这个冬天最冷的那一天,为了这部macbook,我坐了两趟地铁,在寒风中等了20分钟公共汽车,在店里流连了差不多两个小时。

抱着这笨重的高科技产品离开的时候,走了半小时的路,才找到去地铁站的公共汽车站。

 在一间洗衣店的门口。
 
我站在站牌下。对面pizza店内人影晃动,我仿佛可以闻到cheese的味道,我饿,一整天都没有吃东西,饥寒交迫就是这样的。

而我是在饥寒交迫的时候被leiz的声音彻底冲昏头脑。

我的眼睛一直看着汽车来的方向,全神贯注的。
 
如果这个时候下雪,我会觉得很诗情画意,如果下雨,我会觉得祸不单行。

 但是如果这时,有人拍你肩膀,会是“有何贵干” 一张微笑着的脸。

用很重的俄罗斯口音的英文说:come in,please.it`s cold standing outside. 她一边说一边转身示意我进去洗衣店。

 隔着玻璃,我看到店里有一个穿着绿色衬衫的男人,微笑着,做着手势让我进去。
 
我有点不好意思,但是更加不好意思在街上扭捏着说,不用了。而那个脸上带笑的女人穿得很单薄站在寒风中等我一起进去。

我弯着腰进去了那个店,向穿绿色衬衣得男人问好,感谢。

 他说,车子来的时候再出去,车子就在店门前停站的。

大概等了10分钟。他说车子来了。

他隔着玻璃看到了车子。

我说谢谢,新年快乐。

 
谢谢。

3,说新年快乐的人。
也是很冷的天气。从图书馆出来的时候,天已经黑透了,黑得不留情面。

 马路对面有个男人在做冰雕。灯光投影在图书馆的墙壁上,是一朵朵偌大的白色雪花,很好看。

月亮安静地挂在漆黑的夜空。

 站在门口的一个男人告诉我,他在等月亮跟冰雕形成一条直线的时候,就照相,这样的照片说不准能卖到好价钱。

 我真希望他身体健康,幸福快乐。

 基本上我要写这篇陌生人的时候脑中想的就是这三个人物。写好了之后,我又想到了一些人。

 那个在地铁站与我每天相见,但是都只是你在自言自语的,在我拒绝帮助你的时候,会对我说fuck you的人。

我希望你明白,你是一个四肢健全,并且身体强壮的人,这个世界上有很多事情你可以去做。

我希望你2010年身体健康,财源广进。
 那个在地铁站总是拉住匆匆而过的人们,只是为了要人给你2块钱买杯咖啡的人,我也曾经为你停止了脚步。

我为自己感到惭愧。

你要的仅仅是一杯可口的有cream on top的并咖啡,并不是维持生命的食物或是御寒的衣物。

而children international就是在离你一个路口远的地方。



每天都在跟陌生的人擦肩而过,到最后,连自己都不认识了。


Hanna | 26th Dec 2009 | 越說越多 | (5 Reads)

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时间过得真快。

岁末了,圣诞老人都走了。在三万尺高空俯瞰这个大雪覆盖的城市,像一张雕刻在时光里的苍白的脸。

在这样的时光里,总是适合回忆,想念,思考,或者许诺。

思念是一种色彩,无声的,就像一张绚烂的卡片。

我们回到了那个年月。

最喜欢穿着天蓝色的牛仔裤,白色的帆布鞋,手腕上总是卡着一条黑色的橡皮筋。

那天你把额头上的头发都梳起来,而我穿了一件I LOVE NY的白T恤。NY就是那个很大,很繁华的都市。我们都这样理解的。

烈日晒得混泥土都在膨胀,我们看了三次路边的公共汽车站牌,以证实不是荒废的车站。只是车子总是不来。

没有风,摇晃的是像要燃烧的空气。


Hanna | 23rd Dec 2009 | 時間的灰 | (16 Reads)

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我連續吃了四天的pizza,難道我還能說我的生活不好嗎?

我握著微暖的咖啡,站在十字路口等著白色小人,因為經痛讓我在10華氏度的氣溫中有種汗流浹背的感覺。
在火車站買票,想一個人坐火車,去哪裡都可以,只要溫暖地度過這樣的下午就好。
聽著人們微笑著互道聖誕快樂,我猛然發現我需要陪伴。

我似乎不相信我可以活著回到家裡。

我躺在床上,我好想有人跟我說話。連續地,奪命追魂般通過電波尋找PP,他都沒有回應,留言信箱也滿了。節日快到了,他就會很忙。
然後打給在加國的顏同學,他鬼鬼祟祟地說話,我說你是在上課還是在戀愛啊?
他說我跟他在一起啊。
我就裝哭了,我以為這樣他會在電話里停留久一點。

還是掛掉了。

我想不到我可以打給誰了。

我知道恐龍這幾天在風流快活,但是北京時間凌晨4點多,再怎麼風流快活也該睡覺了吧。
我不管,誰叫我想找人說話呢。
電話通了,我做好被她埋怨的準備。
誰知道她好像酒精上腦了,聲音很興奮。

她在花天酒地,徹夜笙歌啊。

我說,龍啊。

她說,菜啊。

然後進行著兒童不宜的對話。
(省略300字,但是我又好想詳細地記載)

她最后還是受不了這樣的談話內容,回去她瘋狂的狂歡中了。

沒有人會包容我的神經質了。
我也不打擾其他人了。

所以我騷擾小白了。

但是他恥笑我。同時我為我拗不過他而站不住腳的愚蠢行徑深表遺憾。
我什麽時候才能成為欺負別人的那一個啊?

今天早上打開郵箱,看到有阿角的郵件,他說,他們聚會,想見我。

到底是你們想見我,還是只有你想見我?

你到底是不是愛上我了?
你說嘛。你說出來啊。你告訴我呀。你知道我不會接受你的。

謝謝你在我想念那個很可愛的我的時候,排除萬難找到那張照片。

我愛你們,所有的人。

我心情好,博愛一下。


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