我想要不断地写作，写作是我对抗遗忘的一种方式。今天我有些悲伤，我发现我在不断忘记。
所有的记忆翻搅在一起，像粘稠的番茄汤。我的备忘录里写着，有时候也只是想给云朵拍拍证件照。任何语言晦涩故弄玄虚的哲学都是皇帝的新衣。
写作，拼命的写作，这是我维护我的摇摇欲坠的世界的一种方式，给蓬松嘈杂的大脑一个细小的出口，填满这个物理空间里所有的洞。记忆和思绪的河流汹涌地撞击这个细小的出口。如果等待它们溢出，那我就丢失了一部分我自己。将我身体的每一部分，和大脑放在一起。这是一种存在的方式。在一个虚拟的数字世界里，默默地留下痕迹。我仿佛被恒星捶打过很多次，在热寂中和水蒸气一起默默燃烧。今天我看blueprint的protocal上说，清醒18-24小时相当于血液中含有0.05%的酒精浓度，而0.08%的酒精浓度就可以看作是喝醉。这个月来我常常清醒，所以我常饱含醉意。
I have to keep on writing, as it’s my defiance against the tide of forgetting, the arrow of the time, the entropy. A sadness hit me today, a cold realization that I am losing things piece by piece; or it could be my luteal phase. My memories churn into a thick, syrupy soup, a murky stew of all that was. On my memo I wrote: I simply want to capture the face of the cloud. Any philosophy wraps itself in shadows and pompous words is nothing more than a naked lie, the emperor’s truth hidden in plain sight.
Writing, a desperate, fervent act of writing, is how I sustain this precarious world of myself, a slender escape for mind’s loud and scattered noise. A river of memories and thoughts slams against this small opening. If I were to wait for them to spill, I would lose a piece of myself. So I bring every part of my body and my brain together. This is a way of being. I feel as though I’ve been hammered many times by a star, burning silently with water vapor in the heat death of things. Today I read in Blueprint protocol that being awake for 18-24 hours is the same as a 0.05% blood alcohol content, while 0.08% is considered legally drunk. I’ve often been drunk this month, fueled by nothing but wakefulness.
我最近在读/已经读过的书：人类群星闪耀时、中亚纪行、海边的卡夫卡、存在主义咖啡馆、why fish don’t exist、butter、微生物大历史、さよなら絵梨、orbital、TechGnosis。
