Obsession, Addiction, a fake and a poem (An old one back to 2010)

One way or another, I love you.

At least, I think I loved you by that moment.

But, what if, by any chances, it’s just my deceptive imagination.

It’s just my desire built by the lure of fantasy,

It’s just my curiosity polished by impulsion.

True,

I felt the tension as you did,

And I saw the light around you,

And I saw your lovely face drowned into the edge of light,
your eyes told me the sorrow as well as the joy you have ever tasted.

And I saw your body, surrounded by the sugary air, shaking.

That’s one night over thousands of nights.

I’m happy but afraid.

Is that the fucking true love or the desperate obsession?

Life makes its own hole far deeper than ideology, it’s the feeling
taught us the taste of love, it’s the past shaped our future and
it's the shadow nourished the beauty of light.

We managed our love so carefully, well prepared, perfectly arranged,
but all of the sudden, I cannot tell. Maybe that's the unbearable
lightness of being.

We stick to love in waiting of give up, so it’s not the problem of
how hard to persist, it’s the problem that whether it's worth to give up.

For the sorrow of love.

or life.

Kate and her baby

Along the high way in the city of nowhere

Kate lives alone

With her baby

The baby

For short and for long 

It all starts from a point

A point on the paper

With vacancy inside out

The only imperfect blot

Finally romanced

Now, an announcement of existence

We all know

There is no better thing than

When you staring the baby’s face

Watching her every small move

Tongue on the nose, fingers in the mouth

You hear

The flow of water

A crystal river

The flow of light

A cluster of massive information

No shape, no weight, no density, nothing

They connected

Head to tail

Looping around

Formed the entire universe

So she’s alone

Along baby’s crying

Like along with the violin

Later on

Later on, 

The sounds draw down.

The bright tone,

A particular tongue，

Flipping around



But come on,

That has belonged to your memory.

Your little town,

Get me drown.

Into the bathtub,

Inside the ocean,

Someone’s uterus



We might met once,

Or none.

I might,

Heard of that sound.

The song,

Rolling, rolling around,

A dizzy, juicy tang

国事

一
面对问题，当相似的群体立场出现后，具体的分析将退化为简洁而方便认同的口号，对问题的复杂态度退化为简单而先验的二元判断：你要不站在此方，要不就是需要讨伐的敌人。
这是对效率最大化的自然选择：与其大费周折去擇出掺杂在９５%黑沙中５%的白沙，不如将它近似视为１００%的黑沙。人类历史上所有的模型，实体或者思想中的，都经过这关键的简化，抓大放小，首先而且最重要的是：如何分类。
信息技术没有改变人群思维的这一特性，它改变的是这一特性发挥效用的效率。这其实也是品牌营销在这一时代最该把握的特性，信息的传播速度不再是乘数，而是指数。放大器的效果：正如同注意力聚拢只在瞬息之间，其停留也常常只是转瞬即逝。而传播一般信息的廉价使其越来越像其它量产物品一样变得更像大众消费品：更为标准化和无个性。

二
两体运动是一个简单而易解的系统，所以如果一个系统复杂无解，甚至常常让人想要由外力破局，那么它必然不是泾渭分明的两方对峙，就算一时看起来像。当原告和被告清楚的拉开距离，各归其位，最起码从程序上，这是一桩有头有尾的定案。但现实中常常是原告与被告混坐，或者是，在这里他们是原告，在那里他们变成被告。更甚者，被告会认为自己才是原告。而真相常常是，在一个绝大部分人都控诉的系统里，绝大部分人即是受害者，也是刽子手。但是单向的道德审判会被默许，因为这是绝大多数人洗干净手而继续前行的唯一机会，仍然是效率问题。

三
生存的首要限制条件从来都是有限的资源，由此带来竞争。此前提下，文明发展的方向至今仍只能是向外扩张：如果哪里看上去像是进入了美好而诗意的更高级社会，那必然可以在反方向找到为其买单的对手方。再一次，技术进步没有改变这一本质，但是将输入输出单向传输的清晰结构，重织成了更为密集的多向网络。这一现象呈现从全球到细分之后更小组织的自相似性。世界从一个角度而言更为扁平化，从另一个角度而言更为勾连缠结。由此可能可以引申出的有相互关联的两点，更容易的以小博大，同时没有独活。

四
金融系统的最大功用是更有效率的调配资源，这常常可以实现，但是更有效率通常意味着‘集中’，无论从权力还是资源角度而言。于是我们可以依仗的只有通过更迅速的技术进步，将底线抬高，这意味着对有限资源的加速蚕食。这看似很像资本主义的极限，解决前一个问题的方法永远是更向外的将问题摊开。所以生存竞争与现在常被谈起的许多美德与追求多少纽结在一起。其实是屁股决定脑袋：乱世买黄金，盛世兴收藏。

五
在战争初期最被期待的一定是聚光灯打满，酣畅淋漓的决战，这通常不会发生，然后人们陷入被拖沓的疲惫。但是你必须持续的向前看，决定战役胜负的人通常成长在战时本身，比如何痛快的击碎一片城墙更重要的是如何留下持续的火种。

Elephant Love Medley

The air is icy.
She kissed me the second time, left my lips smelling bloody.
“ Don’t you fear me now?”
“No, that’s actually sweet. Like every action or reaction is a derivative of our logical formation or a package of emotion, the way you deliver a kiss is just a medium. The purpose of the choice of a distribution is to make a certain impact as we aim to. But like a signal could be distorted during a transformation, my feeling is not necessarily as the same you have expected. “
“ You can see this through watching the water in the pond. You see myself is awry in the water, but that’s not because of me. Reflection may is not invariant under certain transformation, though the identity of the original could still be told. Misunderstanding thus can live in the gap in full, but that also makes everything more interesting if not the opposite.”


她再一次将嘴唇贴过来，将我嘴唇边的空气渐渐拨开，气流的扰动剧烈而含有吸着力，湍动着在将碰未碰间创造出一个独特的气场。
“这次如何？”
“脆弱而轻浮。你试图将一个吻演绎的更为生动而富有层次。你理解足够的前戏对于一次成功的presentation的重要性，如何调动情绪，创造感受聚焦的舞台。这就如同低腰裤是在身体空间上对性感的一次presentation，在导引目光的同时给想象力留下足够的空间。这是在这个日渐扁平化世界的生存要义，在一定局部上重现仪式化。更具体的例子可以是，在我父辈的年代，看电影是一次“正襟危坐”的活动，特定时间，特定地点，聚集的人群和目光，“仪式”本身可以改变对相同内容的感受，通过对预期和神经专注度的控制。但你终归没有完成这个吻，这个悬音对我固然是种挠人的挑逗，但如同《等待戈多》中荒诞的虚无是对存在的质问，你怯于落到实处的调情只能是脆弱而轻浮的。”“另一个很好的补充是，乐评人李睆说过的一段话：“歌声是重要的，但不会比音乐更重要；歌曲是重要的，但不会比织体更重要；声线是重要的，但不会比声响更重要。”当然，这是信息爆炸后消费主义的特色，你更加难以也不必要去知道一次映射和操作背后的underlying是什么。”


“Sometime it’s the science, sometimes it’s the art, but we only see the engineering.”
“Are you feeling sad?”
“No, what’s happened had happened, I just see the resignation lies beneath the surface happiness.”
“What about art?”
“Art is an integral part of daily life, when life becomes more Consumerism, art is more about marketing. The beauty of marketing is: reality is whatever the majority deems it to be. It’s not necessarily the best or the most logical. But it’s the one that supports the desires of society as a whole. So you know, it’s all about to make the term “preconceptions” working.


“那么A. McQueen呢？”
“他脆弱而无助。展览中的四首音乐：“A Scent of Intrigue”, “Disco Bloodbath”, “Sarabonde”,　“Frosti”，每一首都是如此。我最初被展品展台间刺眼的极端所震颤，你可以看到他对内心黑暗的迷恋，对仪式化的迷恋，对形式主义的迷恋，对叙事性的迷恋，对表达的极端渴求。你可以看见他如何纵容情绪窜动，怒放出的只关于内心的花朵，也可以看见他奔向历史，奔向丛林和和海洋，寻找到的那些被他manipulate的元素。他是一个同性恋，这使一切变得更有意思。那些戴着各式面具，没有表情的躯体，很容易让你联想到类似《大开眼戒》出现过的那些符号性的群交场面。而那些考究的织物本身，又很自然的表达出他对女人身体的迷恋和敬颤。正如他自己讲到他并没有为具体的某一个女人所着迷，而是被女人这个整体所启迪。我认为他在某种程度上恐惧女人，因为他不知道如何控制她们。所以他在她们身上疯狂的试验，给她们做出各式各异的枷锁，美，是他创造的美，没有表情，充满异化。”
“所以你并不喜欢他？”
“并不尽然。如果你将个体的灵魂视作一个空间，外部的世界视为另一个空间，我们的身体则恰恰处于两个空间的交界，作为感受和表达的媒介。织物作为身体这一媒介的附着，自身成为又一层媒介。一个理想的表达应该是借由织物这第二层媒介去放大身体本身的信息，而他的作品则直接forming了过量的信息，我将其看作某种攻击性。正如前所说，攻击性来源于恐惧，恐惧来源于未知。我认为有趣的正是此处，他的女装如此声势夺人，充满了个性化的符号和想法，但是他却未曾真正贴近一个女人。就如同你无比擅长催人情欲，却不知道如何献上真诚一吻。他动人的脆弱和无助恰是爱无能的产物，无法消解，永不和谐的红与蓝，最后将人逼上尽头。”


“ You look so sure about what you are talking.”
“ His death is a multivocal exposure and I don’t doubt he is a genius.”
“ What else?”
“ Let's kiss one more time."

Foreign forest

There are trees


Trees like trains


Passing me by


With winds


Like your finger rolling and gliding 


With the rain


Lapping up my lips




There are apertures


Cracking the shadows 


With lights


Spacing north and south


Inner and outer


Making worlds of severals


Half flaming red, half ocean blue

The history

History is his story, parallel with others

Combined with ideas, it’s a fake

It’s a dinosaur’s sample constructed by cause effect

It’s a mathematical model calibrated by willingness

It’s an illusive verity waiting to be explored

It’s a truthful mendacity have to be built by own

It’s dead but still alive

It’s happened but would happen once again

 

But ideas come and go; stories stay

It stays there like the floating smoke you can’t catch

It stays there like the fragrance have been leaving behind

It’s like a collapsar, would lick you up, empty yet heavy

One moment at separate spaces

One room full filled of times