THE FEMALE QUIXOTE HOMELESS DIARY
travelling all the way down to you.

2010年3月4日

紅色筆記本

When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.


But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing floor, into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.


Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; 
For love is sufficient unto love.
--Kahlil Gibran, on love


你突然想起那一本陪著自己走遍千里,或記或畫著情緒起伏的紅色筆記本。硬皮封面隨著旅行時間拉長、視野開拓變得殘破、不平整,你越走越遠,東西越丟越多,偏就捨不得丟掉它。


待你回到自己的小窩,卻再也無法翻開它,細讀過去的回憶。


你還記得為了找一本空白筆記本,在南法的大小書店裡翻遍所有的存貨,好不容易在那個有著清澈河水,長綠水草漫沿河床的小村莊大街上某一角的老舊書店裡,發現了有著屬於夏季豔紅色的它,你開心地付一枚硬幣給那位忙著與其它顧客聊天的留著短灰鬍子的老闆,那天的晴朗藍天,還有飄浮在那頭的淡淡白雲,你的笑容在臉上盪漾開來。


後來,你又開始寫起旅遊日記,加上細心描繪的地圖,或用那隻總在漏水的藍色原子筆,畫著一幅幅令自己感動莫名的景色,你的靈魂灑落在黃昏的義大利阿瑪菲海岸,威尼斯運河,巴里大街上;你的歌聲從黑夜的地中海傳達到湛藍色愛琴海,敲醒一座座藍白色,紅白色,黃白色教堂的銅鐘;你疲倦的精神萎縮在克羅埃西亞的警察局裡;然後,在命運的引導下,你一無所有的來到英倫的極北,遇見透明的他。那是一個盛夏的開始,末日之鐘的序曲。


然後你跳起舞來,在月光下,在沙灘上,在花園中,在樹林裡。不斷的旋轉,靈魂,不斷的旋轉,像是穿上那雙永不止息的紅舞鞋,你覺得暈眩,你感到喘不過氣無法呼吸,你想大聲呼喊卻只能發出無力的呻吟。


於是你離開了。帶著幾乎窒息而死的身體,走向未知的旅程。


在那屬於夏季豔紅色筆記本的倒數幾頁裡,寫著滿滿他說過的話,只說給你聽。你所有的眼淚跟掙扎都停留在那一天的記憶裡,透明的字體夾雜著無可奈何的嘆息。


紅色筆記本日漸沈重,終於,你再也無法翻開任何一頁,細讀過去歡笑快樂與痛徹心扉的字句。

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