四方开，橘黄环绕，黑色基调，一字排，座次排辈，书籍书籍。

今天到太古汇的方所看书，很有勇气地拿了《On the Road》（在路上）的原著来读，看了四五十页离开了，打算有生活费了再去继续看，但愿那几本副本不会那么快卖完。这一本280页的书就要人民币104元，平均一下每页书就要5毛钱，我感觉读书好贵，可是这已经是我最大的爱好兴趣以及贴心的友人了，所以多跑一些公交地铁也是值得，毕竟学校图书馆没有一次让我借到书的。

《在路上》，早在高中时候班里就有同学看了，我上大一就买了大四也还才看了一半，也不知道是翻译不好让我一看就犯困，还是这本书虽说经典但就是不适我的脾性，又或者我就是眼半瞎，知道买书然后束之高阁。无论如何吧，我没有把书看完。（很多经典书籍我都下好电子版了，放在移动设备上，总有一两年了，但我就是没有读，一心地在骗自己——我想这事我做得不错。）

Original Version却让我开怀地笑了。以下摘录一些句子，算是给往后记录读书心路历程开个头吧。

As we rode in the bus in the weird phosphorescent void of the Lincoln Tunnel we leaned on each other with fingers wavig and yelled and talked excietedly, and I was beginning to get the bug like Dean. He was simply a youth tremendously excited with life, and though he was a con-man, he was only conning because he wanted so much to live and to get involved with people who would otherwise pay no attention to him. 

But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulousyellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!' What did they call such young people in Goethe's Germany?

I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was- I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam ouside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange secconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost. I was half-way across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that's whay it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon.

在路上的感觉真的很好，每一旅程都让我遇见新的朋友或者添一些新的伤疤，有的时候是旧伤没好新伤覆上了，但或许是遥远赋予的神秘以及遥远赋予的憧憬，所以还是愿意相信这一次会是美好的，于是出发。《On the Road》初步给我的感受是作者在阐述一种为心灵而活的生活，这种生活不是身份高贵的，家产丰厚，学识渊博的人才可以得到的，许多多人忙忙碌碌却不及Dean生活得洒脱。

今天还看了另外一本书的《时间的玫瑰》北岛先生写的，是个记录一些外国诗人生平的集子。这本书讲述的第一位诗人是 洛尔迦 ，他的《吉他》、《梦游人谣》写得很不错的，有时间其实可以去搜一下，也许会有新的有趣的发现。

我没有够到云彩，但并不意味云彩不存在。

我也许微不足道，但我注定为人所爱。

还是我昨天同样的笑，我童年的笑，乡下的笑，粗野的笑，我永远，永远保卫它，直到我死的那天。

《城门》也是北岛先生写的，原来北岛先生是1949年出生的，现在定居香港，去过许许多多的国家，有一个女儿，那么是不是说我努力一些，我可以和他见面说说话呢？啊！和这些哺育我们这一代人的作家说说话，说说我们一路走来也经历了许多——“我不是个没有故事的人”。呵！在不能回到童年的前提下，我更愿意经历属于每一个年龄段的故事、事故，然后成长，但这一路走来内心经历的蜕变确实需要费心力——要不断，不断地告诉自己“没关系，你努力了，我都看到了！我依然爱你！”（《城门》是北岛先生对少年时期的回忆，因为是“回忆”——每个人都有的不是，所以我想吧——我也有好多美美的或者酸酸的回忆，写出来也许也能成集子呢？）

2015.08.30（如果没有伤痛，30号是纪念日不是。）