今日立秋。不知道從什么時候開始，我也變成了一個開始掛念季節的人。不過還是OLIVER提醒我的。是你的，終究還是你的；不是你的，哪怕是死也換不回來。

黃昏的機場，朦朧的微光。OLIVER拿刀在自己手腕上劃口子。折磨與麻痹不是掙脫的唯一方式卻是釋放的一個出口，太過激烈，最后留下的還是自己。

我想要雷蒙斯發型，但是太熱了，于是還是把頭發剃了，跟才從山上下來似的，要拍照留念下。你溫柔可愛的笑，就是我快樂的唯一原因，哪怕是一點點，我也足夠開心好幾天。

傍晚有清涼的微光。

在這個迷你的城市，夜色撩人的城市，到底充盈了多少的幻想？不過就算你一直在幻想，到頭來還是要回到現實，生活畢竟不是童話，生活的殘酷在于它可以活生生的將人的靈魂和肉體分離。

人有多少是活在幻想當中呢？然后再抽身離開，完完全全的離開，回到自己。

昨天跑了半個城，晚上回來還是不怎么累，手機屏幕上藍色的熒光閃耀着，我知道一個人根本不可能完全屬于另外一個人，但是大家彼此都習慣了欺騙，謊言存在的必要性就在于可以讓人有可以隨時隨地依靠的安全感。于是樂此不疲，理所當然。

好想坐在天臺抽根煙。某天MSN上居然有人給我說那是吸毒，或許。

看到遠處的燈光和星光交匯出迷茫的朦朧，不知道自己要什么，又能給于什么。這個時候，有多少人能看到這樣的微光，感受到自己內心永遠也是個長不大的小孩。此刻遠處的天空有飛機即將要降落，桔黃色的微光，隆隆的聲響若即若離，很好很好的感覺。

我也不知道怎么對待其他人了，于是想長久的沉默。就像一只氣球，黃色的氣球，慢慢飛向蔚藍色中間的白色云朵。

我在這里。我一直在這里。而你，在你自己的星球。人們眼中的布拉格，我眼中的布拉格，一個人的布拉格。

我覺得我什么都寫不出來了，瘋狂地想要抽煙，或者做愛。買底褲，背心。永遠的白色和黑色。

反復聽Ben Lee，我也想是個孩子，那種可以隨時歇斯底里吼叫宣泄的孩子。

真的不要說愛，沒有人會有愛。人與人之間的愛，還沒有人與動物那樣的感情來得簡單和純粹。

所以，真的想要安靜的生活。我和我的狗，伴隨言語的失聰。

At this moment, I do not want to think anything. I have been repeatedly reading "Oscar Wilde" and felt that people are really how insignificant, of course, love is more insignificant, love is built on the foundation of mankind, but does not override them.

One room; one scent of a person; eatting the fruit with myself; reading, sleeping alone. Everyone has different expectations, perhaps simply is not such a complexity thing we have imagined.

Watermelon, mango, grapefruit, milk tea, soda biscuits. I need them so much. :) Got the hair cut, a very very fresh style, just like me. :)

Long time no swimming. Yesterday I went to the pool, there were only 3 people. I tried breaststroke, backstroke, the feeling was pretty good. I still determined to exercise properly and avoid becoming fat, the fat man also ends. Ha ha...

U used to say, I am a sturdy boi, but now I feel that i am so week, like a child on the crossing without mother's hand.

In the morning, u kissed me on my face, I'm in a dream, a beautiful one, like Cinderila's crystal shoes, but end with a darkness.

I always want to say that I am still the one in the before. The fact is I am no longer who I used to be.

The smoke ring, opened to diffuse in the room, a layer of smoke, much like the endless spread of memory.

The flower is shy, where have all them gone? Where have I gone? I was no longer hysterical, at the top of the coaster track, to see the sunshine which I never had.