Haven’t been waking up so early for such a long term,my soma acts a little uncomfortable,I take a deep breath of the cold and dry air,feeling a picric tumefaction in my throat.
7:00 am,BeiJing time.It’s still dark outside.The dimensionality of our territory makes a big time difference between the eastern and western part.I stare at the horizon,suddenly bring Floatice and Butterfly and other pals who are struggling in ShangHai in mind,they are must striving with other white collars,peasant workers,thieves,civil servants in a subway carriage,foot by foot,back to belly,all facing to the rising sun of ShangHai,all with a solemn golden light on their faces,I imagine.
Trees out of the window pass back fleetly and hazily,just like a folding screen made up by cyan silk,sound from the train running over the gaps of the rails fills up my ears,repeats rhythmicly,and seems endlessly.My notebook glitters a faint blue shimmer,looks like an occult windows to somewhere unearthly.
I like travelling alone by train,’cause the perceivation of both time and space is not so clear any more,they are so mucous and so subtle,just like vertigo candies,it always reminds me lots of old friends with long time no see,and then goes writing.