我躺在床上,闭上眼睛,将我所有细胞里残留的对于这段感情的回应全部沉到黑暗里。重新开始,永远是梦,人是旧的,就没有真正的崭新。可现在,我的时钟重新开始了。1.三十岁生日,我是一个人过的。倒也没有什么孤单寂寞,反正也已经习惯了。我像往常一样,在黑胶唱机里放上唱盘,热上红茶,坐在窗口,望着港口停靠的那些船。那个时分就轻描淡写地走过了,和三十年里的每分每秒没有区别。 I lay in my bed and closed my eyes, sinking all the remnants of my feelings in this cell into the darkness. Restarting is always a dream, people are old, there is no real new. But now my clock is starting again. Thirtieth birthday, I was alone. It is nothing lonely, anyway, have also got used to it. As usual, I placed a turntable on a vinyl record player, hot black tea, and sat at the window, looking at the ships docked at the port. At that moment it was an understatement, no difference from every minute of the thirty years.