Day 6 – Romancing China

China has always been this vastness that contains immense romance and mystique to me from since I was a child. Perhaps it was all the sword-fighting novels and textbook propaganda cooking up an inexplicable solution with the wild imaginations of a child. I’ve always imagined that one day I shall run into a pugilistic expert amongst those meadow fields, and then I’ll learn to fly above treetops and kiss my studies goodbye; that Hangzhou, oh…

青石板上，雨打湿了城门，而阳光透过云层，踏步岁月铺成的红毯。此间吴越，当作是中华文化这块牛皮糖上最为华润的部分；你眼黛如粉，我目光绵邈，不若一同往时光的暗角里私逃。现下我握起了你的手，以后我们都会垂垂老去，最后我们都会死去。

我一直觉得情绪是很浪费的一种发明。如果有值得让人伤心的事情，哭也无济于事，那么流泪又有何用呢？——却还是在踏到巴耶利巴站台，眼见电视屏幕显示着9:22再想到9:40你会再次自这个城市的上空离开时鼻头一酸。想念可以用什么样的措辞表达？这刀割般的疼痛，胸腔麻痹和眼眶龟裂。这座城市繁华至极，在我眼里已和被超级赛亚人的龟派气功夷为平地无异。