Day Drink 觉日酒矣

English / Chinese

In the early dawn hours, this strong longing appears in a heart: not be entrapped by anything.

So in a moment, I cry out to you, hoping that we might meet again on the streets, in another life.

Yet I believe we can remain vast, forever beneath the enchantment of dreams, while still possessing the ability to build an everyday life. This is what I see and trust the most in you.

    I'm going to take a trip to Yunnan, as I told you before, to see if it still signifies the same kind of life to me as before. I just recently learned that we can always mend our relationships, nothing will be broken in an absolute sense—this is the benefit of committing.
I am returning there once more, but each time is to break through the self. If I grow tired of all these, I hope there will be a home or a sense of family to hold me back - this is the necessity of integrating and reconciling my life, also as something I learned recently, so my life is eventually a whole, instead of being fragmented by the endless escapes I made. Our writing, too, should not be fragmented—do not leave unresolved topics or unfinished books. The promise lies here, and I will keep it.
As long as you practice noble virtues, you will always be loved. Is this not what you have learned?

Because of my () multifaceted nature, the rapid shifts in my thoughts, and the compulsions that lie within language, at some moment, all of those shift into something that I have to confront once again. As you have long tried to guide me to, I am beginning to recognize my obsessions with you and attempt to step away, and thus become a sounder person. Because we indeed need to grow up, but I am glad that we once shared childhood.
Amidst all this never-ending self-expression, thoughts are born and die like flickering candlelight. I find myself in writing, and find honesty, but also regret this lack of backbone or central theme. I never wished to become someone more transcendent, because we still need to live together, and I still need to live—I no longer wish to die. Thus, I will treat you in the way of continuing living.
Perhaps you have healthier tastes, and have long seen through all that is pretentious and overly dreamlike (yet lazy escapism in reality). I have begun to feel that art is worthless under your questioning: as a group, we have indeed never built a life. I apologize for the fragmentation of being unable to assemble the various parts of life and society into an entity.

From today onward, this writing has a new start: an attempt to stay awake, or I will say, to become a better person, to cause less difficulty for others. Thus, this is the second part.
I am still unsure about this, but I have come to realize that love, for me, is like a kind of hysteria. I have said I do not wish to escape whatever I am feeling, but I am also beginning to understand that a large part of it is an excuse to allow myself to fall.
I truly do not understand the word "fall." I know that I want to become a better person just to be loved more.
I suppose it’s a long way to go.

The person you do not know comes from others. You should indeed oppose it, for that is another soul within me. There was only one person who completely belonged to me for a time once, and I will always love her and her world. Though for a moment, I felt her being intruded upon by others’ souls, but that is something that I never actually knew in life.
Cherish the world we share, and may the different worlds we inhabit also endure. May we communicate across these worlds, with deep love.

What remains unspoken is only hatred, just hating how much and how far you stayed away. Uncontrollably drawn because that distance can shrink to complete dissolution in one moment.
The most terrifying thing about people like you is that you never truly let go. No matter being beaten, scolded, or abandoned, as long as there is any form of connection, any feeling, you will always return to that person (though it’s as distant as the light back in the old days now). This made me also will never truly leave anyone again, and thus truly saved me, perhaps. A fervent longing that I will never truly lose, never be forced to leave—fills me with hope to do everything, to find and retrieve anyone. All of this will eventually linger back to you, because you inspired all these actions.
At the same time, you refuse to be described or fixed into an image; you strive to live on in our lives, rather than—being killed and preserved.
I, too, will destroy their desire to preserve me. I do not wish to be shelved—that is so frightening, for it means that person is already dead.
Even as I explain how intimate my relationship with death is, or how close I sometimes reach to it, I am, in fact, entirely belonging to life. Twenty percent concentration of death is enough to draw me into that hazy sunset light, leading me slowly toward ruin. Sometimes, I feel as if everything in the world, and everyone, is pushing me in that direction. But I would rather live by your side forever, within your “alive” consciousness. And I am beginning to see myself in my writing, see my unreasonable hostility and wariness toward everything that surrounds me.

I am always over-prepared. For the center of life, I have prepared thousands of words of sweetness, as well as letters filled with blades. I have come to realize two things: first, I must endure the swords of my tongue, for it is my weapon, and I must not harm a fragile heart. Second, I have begun to reflect on that unresolved hatred. My unadorned hatred and sour loath for her, rooted in all the harm she has inflicted. But I must remember where we began, where we are eternally connected, so as not to be deceived by the shallow, destructive thoughts whispered by Satan.
That eternal connection was born in the sweetness of everyday life. Gently and tenderly, I sustain all of this in the land of dreams, while fearing the immense pressure yet to be released behind it. Thus, skillful hurt becomes a channel for resolution, timely inserting a small knife or a long needle into my heart, repeatedly confirming or releasing fear. Attack is used to offset insecurity.

I do not wish to be trapped in all of this. I do not want my thoughts to be consumed by trivialities, yet in reality, apart from love, I indeed have begun to think of nothing else. This is a significant problem of mine. A person should never be utilized as a conduit for the infinite—it will destroy them, as you said, "consumed too much."

I no longer have so much to think or say. Perhaps honesty is the first step when facing writing.

Thinking of a future dream, a future dream connected to a moment in the past. Searching for a non-realistic subway station in Shanghai, meeting with Liuzi in the cold winds of December to January, I could not find the Sun Mountain station. But it was a good place, with a milk tea shop as if from my childhood, and I remain obsessed with drinks as the old days. In life, I also try to recreate through nostalgia. I begin to make similar foods, deeply enjoying the moments when no one is home. Even the small unfinished bottle of Jack Daniel’s Sonya gave me, is like the alcohol I drank on the streets or at home all those many nights when growing up—all of this makes me feel joyful from deeply within.

Would you feel safer if you locked yourself away? Trapped in darkness, how could you not feel there is nowhere to go, just as I feel now? I turned off the lights, and buried myself in a small blanket, knowing it was a post-trauma response—escaping everything, even the moon. Escaping the vast world, because shadows begin to lurk in every corner, and all of this is a metaphor that has infinite depth and breadth. Once one sees this clearly and starts the broadest learning, he cannot continue living as a human anymore—he becomes something else, something capable of guiding others. But how can you truly want that? For the sake of transcendent guidance,  morally for the ultimate well-being of all, you relinquish your earthly rights. Love can bring you back, so as food, until you no longer have love, and I do not yet know what that feels like.

After so many years of wandering and loss, what we desire most, apart from revolution, is nothing but home. The feeling of home, familiarity, the warm and stable daily life, placing everything that brings us happiness within reach while life moves forward in an orderly manner, ensuring that we are building something—I also know, on another level, that marriage would utterly destroy our lives, forcing me to face the person that I deeply love, deeply despise, and yet am utterly helpless against every day. Hurt by any small action she takes; I will not be satisfied until she takes me out for a date and takes care of me. Perhaps I should read more books about marriage, to learn how others treat and love.

At this moment, I also begin to feel that, I can see now how I consistently make mistakes in my life, or rather, how I have twisted and entangled with myself. A sense of urgent despair starts to creep in. I can hardly become more awake, and if you begin to see my problems, I beg for a realization. Look through my life, tell me how I could save myself. I have lived poorly through all of this, and I am beginning to faintly sense the urgency of solving these problems—or I will never wake up.

(I really, really like a friend, her moments that seem cute and overly joyful, her slightly conservative heart. When she is happy, she says everything, perhaps just because she is happy.)

I have to cut off from any part connected to love, permanently cut our ties. Because I feel that love is like my cancer, I tried to bring my feelings for you to the surface, but you refused to pacify them. I also refuse to pacify them in deep facts. Now I admit to myself that I will permanently sever ties with you, and only in this moment do I feel like your ally.

But always cutting away the parts that cause me pain and shame, along with love, over time it makes me feel like one with limbs severed; my heart has been cut off its hands, and no longer have the ability to create or feel love. Feeling sad, as if suddenly become incomplete, losing the ability to act for love, to dream of the near future and find happiness in it.

I am afraid, not knowing how I will end up like this. This does not lead to suicide, but I truly feel incomplete again, and I worry that one day the limbs of my soul will be permanently severed.

Empty inside, I can no longer stay in the café. But it is the same everywhere.

Here, I begin to understand my feelings for you.
The radiant, sorrowful past—I fear that self, that society. If not being with someone so easily hurt, without the restraint, I would become the self I disgust. I need people like you, who do not understand, do not wish to understand, and are too easily hurt. I must hold onto you to preserve this self.

    在凌晨时感到这种强烈的渴望：不要被任何东西束缚住。

    于是在一瞬间，我向你发出呼喊，希望我们还能在街头，在另一种生活里相见。

    但我想我们可以永远巨大，永远在梦境奇幻之下。但也有建立日常生活的能力。这是我在你身上最为信任也看到最多的。

    我要去一趟云南，如我所说，去看他还是不是还意味着同一种生活。我刚学到，我们还是总是可以把关系修补，一切都没有那么绝对——这就是契约的好处。

    我又要回去，但是每一次是为了突破自己。若是累了，也希望有家庭能将我兜住。这是将自己的人生融合和解的必要性，也是近来学到，于是我的人生竟是一个整体，而不是在各种的逃避里支离破碎。我们的文章也不应该支离破碎——不要离开未解决的话题、未完成的书。承诺就在此，我将遵守。

    只要实践高尚的美德，便总也被人爱。这不正是你学到的吗？

    由于我 的多面性，思维转变的速度和在语言里的强迫性，在某一个时刻，这一切又变成了不得不对抗的一切。就如你长久以来试图让我做的那样，我开始意识到这些对你的痴迷并试图离开它，变成一个更健全的人。因为我们确实是需要长大的，我也很高兴我们曾一起分享了童年。

    在所有的这些永无止境的自我抒发时，念头时醒时灭。我在写作里找到自己，找到诚实，但也为这种没有主题而感到遗憾。我也从不想变成更超越的人，因为我们还要一起生活的，我还要生活的——我现在不想死了。因而我要以能生活下去的形式对待你。

    也许你有着健康的品味，早已看透一切过于虚饰，过于梦幻（而实则慵懒逃避）。作为一个艺术家我开始从你的质疑里感到自己一无是处了：我们作为一个群体，确实从未建立生活。对于无法将生活在人生的各个部分，以及在社会的整体组装到一起的支离破碎感到抱歉。

    从今天开始，这种写作又有了新的起点：一种试图清醒的尝试，或者不如说：试图成为一个更好的人，给别人造成更少的困难罢，所以这是第二部。

    我尚不确定，但是有意识到爱于我像一种癔病。我说过我不想挣脱无论我在感受的什么，但是也开始明白，其中有很大一部分乃是允许自己堕落的借口。

    我实在不明白堕落一词。我知道我想成为一个更好的人只是想更被爱。

    我猜这条路是很长了。

    你所不认识的那个人来自于其他人。你确实应该感到反对，因为那是我灵魂里的另一个人。曾经只有一个人完整地属于我过一段时间，我会永远爱她以及她的世界。虽然在一个瞬间我也开始感到她被他人介入，但那是生活中我不知道的事。

    珍惜我们所一起存在的世界，并希望我们所在的不同世界也常存。希望我们在不同世界中交流，怀着深爱。

    未曾说出的只是恨，只是恨你远离的程度，远离的距离。不可控地被吸引因为那种距离也会在一瞬间被缩短到彻底消解。

    你这种人最可怕的是从不真正放手。不管被打，被骂，被丢弃；只要还有任何形式的连接、感受，你会永远回到那种人的身边（又像那时的光一样遥远了）这让我也不会再离开任何人，于是真正拯救了我。或许如此，那种我永远不会真正失去的一种热望、永远不会被迫离开的热望，让我满怀希望地去做一切事——会找到和找回任何人。这一切在这之后将联结回你，因为你启发了这样的行动。

    同时你也拒绝被描述和定格成一种形象，你试图永远活在我们的生活中，而不是——被我杀害，储藏。

    我也会毁掉他们储藏我的愿望。我并不愿意被束之高阁，那真吓人——那说明这个人已经去世了。

    纵使我再怎么说明我跟死的关系如此亲密、有时与它如此接近，我事实上是完全属于生的。浓度百分之二十的死亡已足以把我带进那种夕阳迷离的光里，让我缓步走向灭亡。有时这一切（也意味着所有人）都在以那种方式推动我，我是这样感觉的。但是我更愿意永远在你的身边活下去，在你“活着”的意识里。而我开始从我自己的文本里看出自己，看出自己对周遭一切不合常理的敌意和戒心。

    我总是准备得很多。对于生活的中心，我准备了数千字的糖果，也准备了饱含刀剑的邮件。我开始意识到两件事，第一，必得忍耐口中舌剑，既然那是我的武器，须得不去伤害一颗脆弱的心。第二，我开始反思那未解决的仇恨。我对她的无法粉饰的仇恨和厌恶，基于她曾给出的所有伤害。但必须记得我们从哪里开始，于何处永恒相连，才不至于被撒旦暗示的浅薄而破坏性的思想所蒙骗。

    那永恒相连之处，诞育于甜美的日常之中。甜蜜温柔地将这一切持续在梦想乡里，同时不禁恐惧背后尚未释放的巨大压力。于是有技巧的伤害（skillful hurt）就变成了解决的通道，适时地将一柄小刀或是长针插入我的心中，反复确认了或释放了恐惧。攻击被用于抵消不安全感。

    我不想被困在这一切里面。不想让我的思绪被琐碎充斥，然而实际上，除了爱人我也确实开始什么都不想，这是我身上的极大问题。一个人永不该被当作获取无限的通道，这会毁了一个人，就像你所说，“被消耗太多”。

    我已没有那么多可想可说的。或许诚实是面对写作的第一步。

    想想未来的一个梦，未来的一个梦与过去的一个时刻相连。在上海寻找那找不到的地铁站、和流子会面时，在十二月至一月的寒风里，我找不到太阳山地铁站。但那是一块好地方，有着小时候的奶茶店，我依旧痴迷于饮品。在生活中也试图复刻让我感到熟悉的，旧有的一切。我开始做那类似的食物，深刻地享受无人在家的时刻。甚至Sonya给我的酒，未喝完的一小瓶Jack Daniel’s，如同那么多个夜晚我在街上，在家里独自喝的一样，这一切让我从心中感到快乐。

    如果你将自己关起来，会感到更安全吗？在被困住的黑暗里，怎会不感到无处可去、就像我现在感觉到的一样？我关上了灯，或者困在狭小的被子里，深知那是创伤后的反应——逃避一切甚至逃避月亮。逃避广大的世界，因为阴影开始埋藏在一切角落里，所有这一切都是一种无限深和广的隐喻，一旦看清这一切并进行最广大的学习，人就难以再在人间生存——他变成某另一种东西，一种足以指导其他人的东西；但是你如何真正想要那一切？为了那超越的指导性，为了道德上所有人最终的福祉，你放弃了你人间的权利。爱能将你带回来，食物也是，直到你没有爱了，而我还不知道那是什么感觉。

    而这么多年的彷徨、迷失之后，我们最想要的除了革命，便只有家。家的感觉，熟悉的，温暖而稳定的日常，将使我们感到幸福的一切放在触手可及的地方，同时生活有条不紊地前行，保证我们一定在建立些什么——我也知道，在另一种层面，婚姻会彻底毁掉我们的生活，我又要每天面对那我深爱、深深厌恶，同时无可奈何的人。被她所做的任何微小动作所伤害，在我被带出门去、被照顾之前，我都不会得到满足。或许我应该多看一些关于婚姻的书，于是就知道其他人是怎么对待和去爱的。

    此时，我也开始感觉，可以看到我以何种方式，在我的人生中持续地出错，一种急迫的绝望爬上心头；或者说，以何种方式扭曲、和自己扭曲在一起。我几乎已经无法做到更清醒了，如果你开始看出我的问题，我祈求一种醒悟。关注我的人生，告诉我怎样能拯救自己。在这一切中我活得糟糕，我已经开始隐约察觉到解决问题的紧迫性——或者我将永远醒不过来。

    （我真的很喜欢很喜欢一个朋友，她那些看起来可爱又过于快乐的瞬间，稍有些保守的内心。她快乐时什么都说，或许只是因为快乐而已。）

    我不得不切断任何跟情感相连接的部分，永久地切断我们的连接。因为我感觉感情像我的癌症，我试图将我对你的感受放到台面上了，但是你拒绝这样和平化处理。我也拒绝在事实上和平化处理。现在我对自己承认将永久与你切断联系，只有在这一刻我感到成为你的同盟。

    但是总是切割掉使我感到痛苦和羞愧的部分，连着爱一并切去，长此以往让我感觉像总是被切去了手脚的人；我的心被切去双手，没有再能创造些什么或感受爱的能力。感到难过，就像突然残缺了，丧失了爱的行动能力，丧失了梦想不久的将来并从中获得幸福的能力。

    我很害怕，不知道自己这样到最后会怎样。这件事不导向自杀，但我真的感觉我又残缺了，而且担心有一天心灵的四肢会被永久切去。

    空落落的，我在咖啡馆待不下去了。但是哪里都一样。

    在这里，我开始明白我对你的感受。

    光辉悲伤的过去，我惧怕那样的自我，那样的社会，若非与一那么容易受伤的人在一起，我会不受约束地变成我所厌恶的自我。我需要你这样既不明白、不希望去明白，并太容易受伤的人民。我必须保住你，才能保留住这个我自己。