迫不及待

迫不及待

03-09-05

把瓶子擦干净 用点一根蜡烛的时间

一道菜做好 美味没有期限

落地灯一秒点燃 下一秒手指落到琴键

爆米开花 等到什么季节

用半生的岁月 开始故事第一个章节

两个小时的碟片 看尽众生百相的人间

冰淇淋融化 是掌心温暖的射线

记忆蜷缩成一点 背叛还是勇敢

月亮逃岗的午夜 几个小时瞬间不见

脉搏频率 砰砰砰砰 共振眼里的光圈

灯光熄灭 背后留下一道闪电

几个天使 跳跃在你的指尖

黑夜白天 悱恻缠绵 再用一个星期去想念

我要你轻轻合上双眼

我要你忘记时间 在我怀里安眠

*****************************************************

离开办公室的时候，突然又想起一首老歌；顷刻间竟然回忆叠映，如风中画面斑驳明灭。这首歌，今天唱来，仍然有童年般的幻想和憧憬。

Scene 24

There’s music to be heard, and there’s music to be banned. Mahler’s 9^th is sort of both. Its splendor is glittering in every note and yet the haunted feeling of destiny grasps every muscle of the pounding heart. I found Chailly’s version on SACD Friday, due to a plan change, and rushed home to listen to my 7^th collection of Mahler 9^th. Recording of 2004 is fantastic, it brings out the chills and pains of every corner, and my room was filled with darkness in the daylight. And it was the good Friday. What a joke.

Saturday was gorgeous. Sun was out eventually after all the rain. I found Jackson’s CDs for my cousin and bought the BBC session of Cocteau Twins. I got myself a copy of Thriller too. Pretty good album of all time. And then came the long drive home. Little Lamb was tame as usual, keeping my spirit as high as the speed. The night found us in Venice beach, taking pictures of invisible objects. Darkness after darkness I saw, and smelled. And I was constantly criticized for not knowing photography. “There’s no space over the head, the side body is being cut off”…Well needless to say I’m very centered on one form of art than the others. And we leaned over at the pier to watch the waves in deep dark water. The night was getting very chilly and mysterious. The wind, always whispered in my ears.

The recording session later on was a great joy. I betrayed my strong clinging to perfection and let it go, hoping to catch something more pure and natural. And I did. Watching Little Lamb swinging and shaking with my melodies was such a rewarding thing. And he sang in great indulgence, laughing ceaselessly, stretching the whole session to almost three hours. And three songs were made, I did background vocals for one of them, always hoping that there could be some ashes if one day, the bonding collapses again.

Fragrant morning. Easter was here, meaning nothing but a word with a capital E. We ate a simple lunch and watched Home Alone. His laughter almost made me feel that it was the best movie ever made. And he turned to me and showed that embarrassed look for his loud laughs and I said go on. Then we went to the Castle Park for mini golfing. The weather stayed amiable the whole time, and people were smiling around us. Watching four little kids having fun and I tried to picture my own childhood as one of them. But I lost the game before I knew, to this newbie, and we were making fun of it the whole time.

Soon we were warm in Borders drinking coffee, flipping through CDs and books that appear so scholarly on those wooden shelves. It wasn’t the same fun as digging stuff at Amoeba, and the price suggested so too. I found by surprise that the Yo-Yo-Morricone CD was released on dual side disc with 5.1 resolutions. And I took it without a thought. It was one of the highlights of my listening experiences last year. And I can still hear it from the other side of the phone when I talk to my parents. It was a soundtrack of sheer beauty and warmth. Just like the Story of the Weeping Camel. And I already promoted 5 copies of it last year. Interesting.

Dinner was lamb. Our lamb, always, no more no less. After I got back home I seated myself on the couch and played Yo-Yo-Morricone with thirst. Music from films that I’ve seen and not seen poured out, sounds getting reverbed in the room, heating up a moment, a heart, and a life. Cello can always solidify the atmosphere, and I had to light up a candle and my memories to keep air flowing. Malena’s theme was my favorite, Cinema Paradiso was the cutest, and Moses was the saddest.

Sunday night I came back to Mahler 9^th and fell asleep. When I woke up, cello music was in the living room. And I drove to school listening to Billy Jean. Here walking on campus I have CT around my ears. What a combo. And I suddenly remembered that one sentence to seal up this whole story, Krall singing- “The night becomes---the day”.

我带你回家

看完Sylvia的203040， 突然很有冲动弹钢琴。索性一个人静静的在午夜里低回。“失落与获得，交错着，刚好够我写一首短歌。”片子里竟然没有用到这一首歌。遗憾。而手指在键盘上滑 动，心情在过去未来翻涌，竟然感到要写一首歌且欲罢不能。躺在床上掂量了二十分钟的歌词，轻按下很温柔的旋律，凌晨三点，“我带你回家”录完混完，自己被 自己感动得一塌糊涂。遂听歌睡去一直到清早，回旋在自我的温暖能量。我的祝福，你听得到吗？

我带你回家

03-23-05

回忆的伤 伤到害怕

孤寂的夜 黑得冷啊

曾经的悲 总要一点点放下

我尝过 这样的挣扎

飞到天边 才发觉世界多大

虽然面对 总想丢盔弃甲

心中的伤口 结了疤 不碰它 它也不会说话

相信吗

我带你回家

拾起路上的笑话

看着天上的月牙

是否你也情愿收藏幸福的刹那

是否明天可以少一些牵挂

我带你回家

一个地方让你肆无忌惮地躺下

把回忆捆好轻轻推下遗忘的悬崖

我等你在来时路上的灯塔

我带你回家

点亮所有的灯

让你不再害怕

明天启程 可以疯狂可以度假

我的祝福 你听的到吗

我带你回家

当你不想听到外面的嘈杂

今夜相拥直到你笑着睡了

今生相伴直到海浪忘记淘沙

翻身

收拾硬盘之余翻看了过去两年内写的东西。有些很熟悉，即刻映入眼帘，有些却很陌生。好像除了被记载在自己的札记里，那些事根本没发生过一般。晚上听到Carpenters的Merry Christmas Darling这一首，不禁又看见那个推着空购物车在超市里不忍离去的伶仃身影。三年前的一幕幕汇聚又散开，在我清晰的视野里。看到自己对“橘子红了”一曲的感怀，想起那个夏天，又想到回国将近，有点莫名的喜悦，又瞬间被怀念冲走了。

于是我静静的诊视一年来生活的各种变化。一年前在UCLA学生电影展里有部名为STUCK的 短片，一个值夜班的外科医生在混沌间赶到急诊室却不小心将艾滋病人的针头刺入了自己的皮下。随后的长镜头一直跟着外科医生的思绪在走着。那是一种怎样的坚 持和无奈，我想，沉思了许久。那天夜里我辗转心忧，想回国探亲想通过资格考试想让自己生活发生变化。我何尝不也是被记忆的针头镇定在无奈的繁琐里，整日重 复着雷同的经历。在那样的无眠之后，听着Debussy的钢琴，听着Billy Joel的甘冽，我开始准备考试。夏天里竟也在炎热间为自己打造了过去的“奋斗”气氛。

考 试是通过 了，并没有出色到底，而且很有浮光掠影之嫌。但我心思落定，觉得生活仍是第一位的，要我再多献身实在乏术。紧接着我自己为自己挖了个坑，跳进去，埋上，又 钻出来。随后一直追问说我成熟的人眼睛到哪里去了。流了许多无谓的眼泪，却也因此给了自己一根绳索，一个开始。到现在回忆起来，冲动和躁狂是如此嚣张，虽 然之后也没有消减多少，但那一次的我仍然是丧心病狂的。Stuck的反面，就是，弹出去好远好远。

从那一次弹出去就再也没有收回来过。LA的 冬天是阴雨绵绵，却不灭我狂野的兴风作浪，饕餮迷乱。一次次我在夜车里出离沮丧，变成旁观者冷笑自己因孤寂滋生的愈发孤寂。“夜照亮了夜”一语道破天机。 第一次我和世界的角落孤军对峙，没有出征前的告慰指示，亦无一次次溃败后的精神疗伤。我变得残忍，事故，狡猾，心无余温。那段日子我一直在听马勒的交响 曲，感觉天地无尽，岁月无伤，再多的起伏不过是沧海一粟。浮沉间我模糊了视线，也终究耐不过天气和病毒的折磨，在冬之将近的二月败下阵来。

感冒中的我喉咙剧痛，恰逢在Long Beach开会，每天忧心忡忡日不可终；而吞咽之辛酸，歌唱之不能，也让我的生活除了喝水就是出汗。黑夜里在床上翻滚，时时听见撒旦的声音。Hypochondria 在我身上第一次应验。想起从前病症上身忧郁的都是父母亲，这一次却只有自己对自己行使救命的责任。那个星期里和病毒顽抗，老天却让我开始迷上Cocteau Twins的作品，也安排了一场未曾想象的相遇。等到星期五康复，床头已经摆了若干CT的唱片，手中也好像多了一个似有若无的牵挂。直到朗朗晴日若干之后的一场小雨天，窝在一起听着宁静的鼾声，音箱里传出阿菲的“麻醉”，我竟瞬间生出无止尽的满足来；于是也安静的窝着，慢慢调整自己的呼吸，将眠将醒的，让那一个下午绵绵无尽。像极了房间里的香水百合。




机票开好，一年前的忧患一一解除。虽然算不得衣锦还乡，也没法肯定感情这次于我有多么眷顾，我仍然心存感激地在世间燃烧绽放。不断听到戛然而止的生命，感慨仓促间所为极微，开始觉得尽管疤痕累累，依然余勇十足地品味生活制造快乐，甘之如饴荣膺护心使者。

告别

告别

谁料得到
后来的耳厮鬓磨 头晕目眩
凉夜里看不清 洗不去 谁的脸
让记忆凝成沙漠
变心的朔风，只起黄沙万卷
遥远 遥远
留给未来笑看
留给自己敷衍


我们终于挣扎过了愤怒的梦魇
我们 累了 等着彼此不忍心的答案
流泪 是凝视当下的瞬间
是告别过去的勇敢
已无猜心难耐的负担
也放弃诊视人间的聚散
萍 水
聚是缘起 偎是心甘


行囊冲好 等你在彩虹一端

Scene 23

And now what, he asked, looking right into the crystal of his brain.

He touched the piano with little strength, removing dust from two or three keys. He wanted to nail out a lullaby for himself, he thought maybe someday the tune would be reminiscent of his past, his unwanted burden of sorrow.

And he played this song...he wanted to be big but not loud, quiet but not muted. And he played on. Searching for a parasol in the corner he changed the chords to B7, he darkened the room with light morose. And yet the music sounded hopeful at the very end, letting out a dim ray of tomorrow for him and the audience.

Rain started to drizzle outside his window. And he thought of spring. He thought of the rainy days he had and he pondered upon "rainy". What a name, thought he, how could he come up with something like this for a name. And as if it was a big bouquet of dead daffodils he dumped the whole thing, the name the weather the scene. He wanted a new bundle, a brighter one that possibly lasts longer, and he was willing to pay full price to replenish the splendor, the watery fumes and the warming fragrances. He repositioned his hand on the keyboard, feeling for that new chord that could change the room's color, at least for the day.

And suddenly he remembered Stina's first album, and he was mesmorized...yeah mesmorized at the moment, seized by the tunes in his head.

I'm searching for a color, don't know what it's like. It's something between pink and brown.
And it came out of the piano, convolved with his own sadness and blurred with stress on the high notes. His color was even harder to find. And he didn't know what to expect this time. Soon the drapes of the room lightened up and he knew, for the first time in the day, that he was doing something right, something constructive and rewarding. He was filled with tears.

He finished the piece in great triumph, opened the window, and saw no rain or trace of any since morning.

Now he really cried.