总是站在喧闹的街头,看着错身而过的人群,那些相似的身影,带来我片刻的失神;总是在囚禁着自己的昏暗小屋里,看见每一件事物,听见每一阵声响,然后,想起一个人,一些人。总是在无法入睡的被窝里无法自制地呢喃着那些熟悉到不能再熟悉,又遥远得不能再遥远的名字。总是在心底,有个小小的声音提醒自己:为什么总是这样想起?……总是,总是被思念紧紧缠绕。我们学习着承受分离,却学不会承载思念。 Always standing in the noisy streets, looking at the people who have passed by mistake, those similar figures brought me a momentary loss of spirit; I was always trapping my own dark hut, seeing everything, hearing every sound Then, I think of someone, some people. Always in the bed that cannot sleep, I can’t whisper those names that are familiar enough to be familiar and far away. Always in the bottom of my heart, there is a small voice reminding myself: Why do you always think of this?...Always, always being entangled tightly. We learn to withstand separation but learn not to bear thoughts.