Back to North America, clean, antiseptic, insular. Sitting in a pre-dawn room of greys, my body is back but my mind not. I must have left a piece of my soul in Tibet or Beijing. How else might one explain the strangeness of home. At 6:30am, the Cascades have turned blue against an outline of pink and yellow. Outside a cock crows.
I seek warmth from my fellow beings. I’m not satisfied with mere acquaintanceship; I want nothing less than the naked touch of the soul. Thus we bare all, raw, tentative, haltingly or in a rush. At times I feel bewildered by the plethora of genuine emotions open to me. There’s something transitory yet eternal about those moments of connection: transitory in that the moment ends, eternal in the sense that the reverberations indicate something that extends far beyond the capabilities of our ordinary senses of sight and feeling. You have plucked my string, and now I shall sing forever.
You have plucked my string, and now I shall sing forever真是枚感性的理科生。
你脚步太快的，灵魂跟不上。。。慢慢来：）
NAKED？WHERE?WHERE??！！