Dwight_

如果我向你跑去的话,我敢相信我所精心准备好的词语都会融化进我飘摇的影子里,我的舌头会被风折断,我的丑陋会迎着风盛放开来,所有平日麻木的体面都墙皮一样剥落。我的恐惧,战栗和期待,我在深夜皮肤和被单间隙里孕育的怀疑和孤独,没能开口说出的快乐琐事一定都幽灵般穿过你的胸膛,你捕捞不了任何一句,但我的身体一定紧紧地被你拥抱着,血肉欢快地随心脏搏动。

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A picture lives by companionship, expanding and quickening in the eyes of the sensitive observer. It dies by the same token. It is therefore risky to send it out into the world. How often it must be impaired by the eyes of the unfeeling and the cruelty of the impotent.
——Mark Rothko
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