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忽然念舊

你有沒有許多事物你總是嫌棄着,以半控訴的態度與之相處。然後忽然一天…..

主角是一個深藍色大型行李箱,是百貨公司減價時,爸爸買給我去英國讀書用的。長得很普通,輛子不好使用,也有點苯重,唯獨勝在容量高,漂洋過海必備。

十來歲的我非常瘦弱,用那雙輕枝可折的手臂滾動着幾十公斤重的旅行箱,姿態別扭。有時候推着箱子趕火車,其劣質滾軸卡拉卡拉聲響,步步艱辛。基於它長得過份普通,在行李輸送帶上多次略過眼前亦視而不見。我不禁投訴「點解唔買靚喼比我」,「個喼唔擺野都好重」及「我唔要減價貨!」等等。

有次穿州過省時在地下鐵部遇見奪命樓梯,只好有理無理把箱子一腳”抻”落樓梯,樓梯底再見。換上是過萬元的名牌高級行李箱,我大概不會這樣做。

每當我到達寄宿學校時,箱子就會被收納進宿舍裏潮熱的閣樓,一整個學期眼不見為乾淨後,翻出來時一陣沼澤氣味。

這般粗手粗腳的長征北伐,醉翁之意在於換過個新的。千算萬算算漏了減價貨居然有三年保養這回事,被我老爸換了三個滾輪後行得走得,我還是得挾着這箱子來來回回求學去。

如是者五年過去了,大學畢業時我提着二十多公斤的箱子還能談笑風生。看我一雙臂上三頭肌和二頭肌之完美比例,多少拜搬運行李所賜。後來每每到行李輸送帶,只瞄半眼也能職別那個殘舊箱子,不得不承認是默契。

驀然回首,反而糊塗了。到底是當年行李箱太笨重,還是當年自己弱不禁風?

畢業良久,家中儲藏的行李箱增添不少。有哥哥公司抽獎送的纖巧行李箱,爸爸一擲千金買的名牌行李箱等等,林林總總,任君選擇。我卻不惑地拉出這個深藍色大型行李箱,說道:「這次去美國,你陪我吧。」

對好多事物的依戀,不論喜歡與否,源於當中載運某個年代的自己。就似這深藍色大型行李箱,以一個側面切入我的留學生生活,其重量不知不覺盛載着我的成長。

~周子媚

2014年5月30日

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Great people do things before they’re ready. They do things before they know they can do it. And by doing it, they’re proven right. Because, I think there’s something inside of you—and inside of all of us—when we see something and we think, “I think I can do it, I think I can do it. But I’m afraid to.” Bridging that gap, doing what you’re afraid of, getting out of your comfort zone, taking risks like that—THAT is what life is. And I think you might be really good. You might find out something about yourself that’s special. And if you’re not good, who cares? You tried something. Now you know something about yourself. Now you know. A mystery is solved. So, I think you should just give it a try. Just inch yourself out of that back line. Step into life. Courage. Risks. Yes. Go. Now.
Amy Poehler  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: tinytruant, via thatkindofwoman)

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It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold; when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.
Charles Dickens, Great Expectations (via teabythesea)

(via teabythesea)

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我在浪裡

少年輕狂時一頭栽進游泳池裡,因泳術不精而嗆到,抽搐在那一淌低溫的氯氣水裡。
若果你咎由那一次輕狂而學不會游泳,你將永不知道那洶湧的美。

來吧,往那咸咸的大海推進。
以輕狂敵輕狂,沒更好的辦法,沒更好的協奏。
聽那白頭駭浪在岩石上拍打的節奏,你聽那嘲諷。
極緻的洶湧,你可以懂。

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Never the same love twice?

Many a times the spark of a romance follows the same stylistic pattern. Within the context of my limited experience, here’s my synopsis. First off, snap judgement on appearance (Tall? Check. Cute? Check. Small eyes? Check.) Then we move onto harmless flirtations to test the personality, humour and likings. Back and forth, the tennis ball bounces between the two courts. Gradually, the mysterious darkness lurking in her eyes demands him to follow suit.

You know what follows, candle-lit dinner on hazy evenings, endowments of flowers, macaroons, love songs and etc. In most cases, I do not observe significant deviations from the ancient formula for most conquests of love. So what’s so special about the chemistry of love that causes each experience to differentiate from one another, rendering to the conclusion that Fitzgerald has conveniently summated as “There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice?”.

I am eternally grateful for all incidence of love that has come to me. But why? My dear. Why never the same love twice? Or am I too modern to be raising concerns out of a quantitative comparison?

#feelinglikecarriebradshaw #loveandthecity