Yrli

Snapshots and thoughts

[yrli]

Chemotherapy is death-against-death modernism. Surgery is the Enlightenment. Reconstruction is the phase that escapes periodization - medicine against absence - not growing crops but the appearance of crops on recently salted field. Disability is whatever isn't history, a battleground turned into a 7-Eleven on which someone has graffitied PAIN WITHOUT VICTORY

The Undying, Anne Boyer

and compassion is the pain we experience at the sight of misery. 

[yrli]

you can listen, you can’t talk

你以为录个节目 能让缺乏沟通的对方 对你的想法 出发点 和如今的生活状态 多一些了解 然而对方跟你说 建议节目里不要爆粗口 随之发来几百字告诉你 做母亲是一个女人完整人生的一部分 每个角色都应该体验一下 女人要在该做什么的时间段抓紧做 生不生孩子跟女权也没关系

因为对方终究是一个只爱输出不会倾听 且情商极低的人

你想起以往的各种不愉快 说 我觉得生孩子这事以后可以不聊 免得互相添堵 对方说 i understand i respect i know, BUT

你说 我发张小狗照片你都要留言「越来越有当妈的样子了」其实挺烦的 对方说 那是你太敏感了 说明你心里对不生孩子这事放不下 什么时候你能心平气和地跟我讨论这事了 说明你才真的想明白了

到此你已经不想再跟对方废一句话了 并且觉得自己每次试图敞开心扉都特别傻逼 气得连哭俩晚上

你意识到你们的关系其实根本没有改善 对你的了解也根本没有增进 只不过这几年你的生活轨迹比较吻合对方的意愿罢了

你想起最初你不想让对方看你的豆瓣 对方说 陌生人都能看的东西 我为什么不可以？ 你当时觉得这是多么无懈可击的一套逻辑 然而今天你想 陌生人一天到晚这么烦 早他妈被拉黑了 于是你决定下次再有这事 就直接拉黑吧

you can listen, you can’t talk. 单方面价值观输出是多么美好的一件事

[yrli]

my private Naples / May 2018

在炎热与抑郁的夏天无法停止抽烟

[yrli]

长沙谢子龙影像艺术馆

[yrli]

I think there are some very general aspects and attitudes common to most of the best artists. These are mostly obvious: the large scale and its particular nature; bright color; use of new materials; three dimensions, in many cases; and especially the difference in the particular aspects of the work (the best work is unlike in appearance). I don't like the terms 'avant-garde' and 'academy.' The range is from good to bad artists. The good ones have invented their own work, made something to suite them. The rest, to varying extents, depend on that invention. So obviously, the good ones lead, but their leadership is a poor way to characterize them. It's only a social aspect; it's unimportant if others follow them because the followers aren't important. ... Each time something new is done everyone expects the followers to grow up and make a school. Good work doesn't start in a school, and there will never be enough of it alike to make one.

Donald Judd, Statement (1966), first published in “sensibilities of the Sixties”, Art in America, January/February 1967.

[yrli]

December 30, 2017 @ Mori Point

[yrli]

Life is one long process of getting tired.

今年办借书证以来，一直在借舍不得花钱买的精装书，建筑摄影设计相关、图多字少、摆着很装逼的那种，This Close to Happy是第一本借的non-fiction。最早是在LitHub上得知这本书的，后来的日子里，我时常会想为什么在LitHub上看过那么多新书发布，唯独从图书馆借出来了这本。

当时看到的简介是：

The New Yorker writer and author’s frank and vivid memoir of her lifelong experience of clinical depression gathers accolades from critics.

...By this point you know what the magic word was. This tumblr blog has become a record of my depressive episodes after all.

因为是挺火的新书，排了两个月才借到。从图书馆出来的时候端量手里的书，心想在我之前借过的都是什么样的人，为什么会读它？是抑郁患者为了寻找共鸣，还是有亲友生病，渴望了解这个群体？甚至迅速把书翻了一遍，好奇里面会不会有干皱的泪痕。当发现没有时竟然有点失望。

由于后面还有人在等的书是没法续借的，又担心自己没法在三周内读完，硬着头皮顶着读着读着就哭了的风险，带去各种地方。上下班的火车上读，午休读，遛狗时读，长周末开车去LA在漂亮的Airbnb里读。

一次在水边的长椅上午休，健谈的同事看到我，走来坐下开聊，问我在读什么。

**PANIC**

“Oh you know, just some miserable writer’s memoir about their history of depression.” 言语间刻意拉远我和话题的距离，心里嘀咕他是不是连接上点了，我的安静话少社恐在他脑袋里是不是突然说得通了。

作者出身于纽约上层犹太家庭，常年给纽约时报写影评书评，我从来没有读过她写的东西，于是对她的唯一印象来自于书的内封里的作者照片：一个抿嘴苦笑的女人，眼神犹豫闪烁。我想为什么会有作家选这样一张照片放在自己书里。

和很多不开心的人一样，她喋喋不休地讲自己的童年，父亲如何冷漠，存在缺失，母亲如何manipulate她的想法，家庭虽然富有，却如何缺爱。能感到她举的例子都是对她造成了很大伤害的记忆，我读时却觉得 it’s not that bad. 无法共情。这让我想到自己在咨询师或亲友面前痛斥哭诉过的童年记忆，是不是他们听时也不太能理解伤害我的点。这我觉得很embarrassed。

作者曾三次因为有自杀倾向而被送去精神病院，一次是上小学时，一次是刚生完女儿产后抑郁，第三次是她母亲去世以后。她对文人的自杀史津津乐道，视Virginia Woolf为偶像，向往Sylvia Plath在The Bell Jar里描述的精神病院。她从小就觉得自己是要死的，“life is one long process of getting tired”。她说有自杀倾向的人从不被taken seriously，until they actually do it。她像别人答应今年送自己一个包或者一辆车一样地promise herself suicide, year after year。一个印象深刻的细节是，小时候母亲看她喜欢Virginia Woolf，送给她Woolf的玩偶，她给玩偶的大衣口袋里装满小石子，让玩偶在浴缸里淹死了。我：……

她谈到她已经读大学的女儿，觉得很抱歉女儿从懂事起就要担心一个随时有可能自杀的母亲，要反过来照顾母亲，没法完整地做一个无忧无虑的女儿。这让我觉得自己永远不该有小孩。

她谈到有趣的数据，男人的自杀率比女人更高，女人被关进精神病院的比例比男人多。男性作家善于把抑郁症状归结于社会基因家族史，anything but themselves，女性作者则觉得是症结在自己身体和灵魂里。

她谈到年轻时抑郁挺「正常」，甚至有点glamorous，但中年后还被抑郁折磨会显得窘迫，因为you’re supposed to have it figured out。这让我想到当我偷看父亲博客和日记得知他抑郁，然后哭着打电话让他不要死的时候，他大概很羞愧吧。进而又想到原来我和父母一样都是偷看别人隐私的混蛋啊~

书的最后一页，作者和女儿及一两个好友一起，在作者在Hampton租的summer house度假。她的情绪已经稳定得可以长时间专注地读书了。在读书的间隙，她抬头看到女儿和好友，觉得此刻正在变好的她, is this close to happy。The End。

结尾扣题，of course。但是讲自己抑郁史的书怎么能有happy ending呢，结局明明该是「每时每刻我仍深处抑郁的水深火热中无法解脱」啊。有种作者是叛徒的感觉，让我有点沮丧，说不好是什么心态。

[yrli]

 还是会整晚地哭 但比以前更擅于pinpoint trigger了 大多发生在周末 自己还好 哭累了就没事了 一闭眼睡得很香 苦了同居的伴侣 每每给他的带来很大的情绪上的stress

周六晚上的stress 在周一早晨以痘痘的形式呈现在他脸上 下一个周六的我 出于愧疚 去给他买spot treatment 各种情绪就这样变成了看得见摸得着的物体 挺逗

战痘产品的小玻璃瓶上写着 formulated for troubled skin

troubled indeed.

[yrli]

Annie Leibovitz at Work

On the Early Days as a Young Photographer:  “We were taught that the most important thing a young photographer can do is learn how to see. It wasn’t about the equipment we were using. I don’t remember being taught any technique. A camera was only a box that recorded an image. We learned to compose, to frame, to fill the negative, to fit everything we saw into the camera’s rectangle. We were never to crop our pictures. We went out every morning and took pictures and developed them in the darkroom the same day. Since the prints were washed in communal trays and everybody’s pictures were lying there with everybody else’s, you tried hard to come back with something good. In the evening we would sit around and discuss our work. We were a community of artists.”

“...I had traded my Minolta in for a Nikon, the camera of choice for professional photographers in the late sixties and early seventies. The Nikon had a really sharp 35mm lens. A free-flowing, beautiful lens. During the early years at the (Rolling Stones) magazine, when I thought of myself more as a photojournalist than a protraitist, I usually carried three cameras on assignments. I didn’t want to lose time changing lenses. I would take a 35mm lens, a 55, and a 105. A 35mm lens provides a perspective close to what the human eye sees, and it was my lens of choice. The 55 was considered a “normal” lens, very classic, simple and noninterfering. The 105 was on a body with a meter and I could use it for light readings. Zoom lenses were not really an option then. They weren’t made very well. When you saw a photographer with a zoom lens on his camera you didn’t take him seriously.”

“...The best thing a young photographer can do is to stay close to home. Start with your friends and family, the people who will put up with you. Discover what it means to be close to your work, to be intimate with a subject. Measure the difference between that and working with someone you don’t know as much about...Take pictures of something that has meaning for you.”

On Getting Enough Pictures: “When I was young, I never knew when to stop. I could never tell what I had. I was afraid I was going to miss something if I left... As I became more experienced, I began to understand that someone who is being photographed can work for only so long and that you shouldn’t belabor the situation. Something is either going to happen or it’s not going to happen. It’s not going to suddenly turn into something else... What does happen a lot is that as soon as you say it’s over, the subject will feel relieved and suddenly look great. And then you keep shooting.”

“(Robert Frank) picked up my camera once... He said to me, “You can’t get every picture.” That was comforting advice. You do miss things. You’re attached to this machine. To its timing. Things are moving in front of you and you’re supposed to capture them, but it’s not always possible.”

On Learning about the Subject: “I do my homework. When I was preparing to photograph Carla Bruni, the new wife of Nicolas Sarkozy, the president of France, in the Elysee Palace, I looked at pictures of the palace. I looked at pictures of other people who had lived in the palace. Pictures of couples in love. Pictures that other photographers had taken of Bruni, She had been photographed many times before. I thought Helmus Newton had seen something in her that other photographers hadn’t. I knew she was a popular musician, and I listened to her music.”

“I came up with the formula of at least two days to work with a subject... A day for meeting them and a second day for shooting or finishing any shooting that had started the day before. When you first meet someone you’re just trying to be nice and picking up clues for a picture. You get ideas when you’re with them that you wouldn’t get simply by reading about them or studying their work... The first day gave me room to observe and talk. Then I could go away and think about what I’d learned.”

On Lighting: “Natural Light is the greatest teacher. You place the strobe so that it follows the direction of the natural light. You try never to fight the natural light by coming from another direction. Adding strobe to the natural light outside makes a daylight studio. When you’re working inside, you try to remember what natural light looks like and see if you can re-create it. I’ve never been able to make strobe light look as beautiful as natural light.”

“The best time to do the kind of work I do is on an overcast day, or at the beginning or the end of the day. When the light levels are low. That’s the time most photographers like to take pictures. The tones are most even then. Although I finally decided that shooting at sunset was too stressful... It’s better to shoot at sunrise. After the sun comes over the hill you still have time to work.”

On Tripods: “The original tripod is my two legs. Being able to move, to go up and down, is an important part of my work. When the camera is put on a tripod, the picture looks different than when the camera is held in your hand. The photograph will never feel the same. My assistants will set up a tripod next to me, and I won’t use it. By the time you’ve renegotiated the tripod, you’ve lost the moment. Everything’s changed. I shoot a lot of pictures standing up. With a tripod, you have a tendency to straighten everything out. With your body, you unconsciously tilt yourself. You’re not coming straight on. You’re fine tuning by pulling yourself in a little bit and then out a little bit.”

On Digital and the Choice of Cameras: “I believe that you are better able to capture what you really see in color with digital. There’s a distinctive intensity in a digital file. Digital gives a more honest view of how things actually look, and with the advent of all these possibilities, I still want the pictures to look like they’re real.Whatever camera helps me do that is the camera I’m going to use. I’m not nostalgic about cameras. When I talk about how important the camera is to me, I mean the idea of the camera. What photography does. I’m not into it because of the equipment, and I’m not concerned with the things that concern more technically acute people. I want to use whatever helps me take a picture in all kinds of light with faster speed and fewer problems. I changed my 35mm digital camera four times in one year. As soon as I hear there’s a better one out, I try it.”

On Music: “I use music when I shoot. In the beginning it camouflaged my inability to talk to people. But the music on a shoot isn’t just background. It raises the mood, sets a tone. The right music at the right time elevates the situation. Music can make or break a shoot.”

[yrli]

anticipation has a habit to set you up

右胸里养了个疙瘩 十二点方向 1.9厘米长 在二月份做妇科年检时摸了出来 随后约了超声波

体检和超声波隔了两周 期间右胸因为各种触摸和挤压 经历了前所未有的痛感 精神状态也受荷尔蒙影响 起伏波动 上班读关于乳腺的paper 对着电脑屏幕哭 回家坐在马桶上哭 长这么大没有任何一刻比这两周更痛恨自己是个女人的事实 频繁想起看过的那些 因乳腺癌而割掉乳房的女人的裸体照片 心想 赶紧他妈割了吧 割完连内衣都不用再买了 到时候也照一组照片 我没胸我自豪 不要太酷

转念又悻悻地想 这样好像对胸部不太礼貌 会不会是一直抵触自己的第二性征 嫌弃胸部 终于遭到了它们的报复 失敬失敬 阿弥陀佛

镜头切换到两周后的超声波 挤在皮肤上的凝胶冰凉 躺着看不到仪器屏幕 便努力仰起脖子偷瞄墙上画框玻璃反射的波图 宽大的卫生袍挡不住纹身 终于还是被护士问起是什么化学分子 如实回答后一阵沉默 我想护士可能一边看着我胸的波图一边在想： 「谁让你抽烟 活该」？ 想到这里羞耻感涌上心头 其实纹身这事本身再无聊不过 头脑够热够蠢够中二的都做得出 catch在于 纹完一辈子都得不断被迫面对曾经傻逼的自己

超声波显示 除了被摸出来的大宝 十一点方向还养了个1.1cm的小宝 初步结论两个都是没大碍的fibroadenoma/乳腺纤维腺瘤 保险起见 又约了一周后的活检

期间胸最疼的一天不巧穿了有钢圈的内衣 无法专注于工作 思念躺在家里的base range小背心 想到家里的两件已经穿了两年 不假思索地又买了两件 我一手捂胸口 一手下单的样子 一定像是个微信表情 retail therapy is the best kind of therapy, they say. 

活检发生在领证的第二天 去医院的路上想   「婚后第一天妻子被查出癌症 丈夫不离不弃」大概是个感人的故事 这是人生中第二次经历麻醉 醉前为了活跃气氛 护士假装真诚地夸奖了我的transport tote 随后问道 正在服药吗 nope 有过敏吗 nope 做过手术吗 nope

You’re an easy one.她说 heh well you just wait and see. 我心想

大夫入场 开始用对小孩或小动物说话的口吻向我解释接下来要发生的事 这语气令我费解 出于对未知和失控的巨大恐惧 向大夫表达了想看着针扎入皮肤的意愿 大夫说「I would really rather you look the other way」 第一针麻醉后 取样用的粗针头进入胸部 喊疼 于是又补一针麻醉 手攥成拳头 靠深呼吸勉强维持镇定 默默看着声波影像中的针头在胸里戳来戳去 像个没有教养的阳具 听到大夫说 接下来你会听到一声像订书机一样巨响 而开始紧张  anticipation build up至最高值 终于在巨响发生的一刻被吓得眼泪不受控制地开始涌 就像第一次经历麻醉一样

之后发生的事都是一片blur 只记得想趁着麻醉药效还没消散赶紧回家 回去的路上也一直哭 是一种对身体失去控制的本能的抵触和恐惧

三天后上班时接到大夫电话 依旧是跟小动物说话的口吻 「我有好消息哟」 她说 没癌没癌 半年后复查 记得保持心情愉快哟 这样瘤们不容易长大

easy for you to say. 我想 下班回家狠狠抽了根烟 反正不是癌啊 反正心情愉快

( Brooke Shaden / The Fourth Wall )

[yrli]

i’m not afraid of you and i’ll beat your ass!

or maybe i won't.

you're right i probably won't.

还是打不赢怪兽。

[yrli]

Part of the attempt to relive my 「北京文青第二人生」was to visit art exhibitions while I was home.

- 温普林中国前卫艺术档案，红砖美术馆，北京 (pic 1-5)

温普林行为艺术档案的内容挺全面的，看到了肖鲁的电话亭实物和不少以前「听说过没见过」的装置。本想多花些时间仔细阅读，同行的朋友兴趣似乎不大。和去年初在798的Pace看行为艺术回顾的感受相似，赞叹八九十年代中国年轻艺术家们的戾气。我喜欢他们独有的这种戾气，尤其是因为现在的中国社会已经不允许了。

红砖美术馆本身作为一个art space，室内的自然光很少，灯光安置也没跟上，整体感觉采光很差。倒是后面的园林设计语言丰富很多，随便从哪个角度拍都是构图精彩的一幅中国画。

园林里碰上一群学习摄影的中年人，每人都是5D红圈的装备，指导老师指哪拍哪，可爱又好笑。

- Andy Warhol: Contact，木木美术馆，北京 (pic 6-8)

展览只有五个小房间，其中两个影像、一个装置、一个阅读室，剩下一个挂着拍立得相片，二十分钟看完了。 60块钱的门票晚晚也敢收，玩票界大拿，忽悠起人来真是艺高人胆大。木木的格局这么小，真不知道能办出什么展。

呸呸呸。

- Felix Gonzalez-Torres，外滩美术馆，上海 (pic 9-10)

同样是每层格局很小的空间，外滩的处理比木木精彩好多。最喜欢的是图10的装置，房间被映射得暖暖的，角落里的ipod循环播放着华尔兹，插着可供两人听的共享式耳机。戴上耳机后感觉顿时被transform到了另一个空间，仿佛能看到跳舞转圈的一对情人。

上海的艺术氛围比北京robust很多，是这次最突出的感受。

[yrli]

bad habits

离开北京时，一包抽完不方便扔在家里的苏烟被匆忙塞进书包侧兜；二十多个小时后，在收拾行李时掉落在湾区公寓的地板上。 被爱人问怎么抽了一整包烟，在北京的状态怎么和在湾区时不一样。 能感受到空气里沉默的judgement和轻微的责备，于是闭口没提其实这是第二包，而且抽屉里还有以备不时之需的全新的第三包。 过几天独自抽烟被爱人闻出，招了供，答应以后不会规律地抽烟。 又过几天，看完《海边曼城》的晚上回到家，爱人说： 「要下楼抽根烟吗？」 时间闪回两周前回北京的第一晚。 落地到家吃完饭后和长辈说想出去溜达，下楼径直走到了马路对面购物中心一楼的香烟专柜。 一包苏烟一个火，是回北京的第一笔消费。 随后是迫不及待地拆封敲烟点燃，吸进久违的北京冬天凛冽的空气和雾霾颗粒混合起来的味道，伴随着燃烧的卷烟一口口顺滑地滚入咽喉。 （妈的苏烟是真好抽，此处应该有苏烟给我的广告费。） 后来从柜台老板那学到这款叫大苏，二十多块钱的是小苏。 再之后便是，从家走到地铁的路上，下车走到餐馆的路上，酒足饭饱之余，和抽烟的朋友见面时，多少来一根。 第一周接近尾声的一晚，因为签证的事焦虑，以「去报刊亭挑杂志」的名义揣着烟下了楼，漫无目的地走，窘迫地想：市井气息浓郁的亚运村找不到一个可以让我舒坦地抽烟的角落。 后来走到了街对面小时候常玩耍的有假山和湖的私人公园，黑灯瞎火没人看门就溜了进去。 人造湖变成了空荡的水泥池，我坐在湖上一块小时候总不敢迈不过去的石头上，屁股冰凉，隐约能看到湖对面一个人手上的红色光点，就这样谁也没示意地各自抽烟。 结果抽到一半烟断了，扫兴地起身拍拍屁股，在小区里找了个烟酒店买了第二包，比柜台便宜7块钱。 全程耳机里在放科恩老头最后的专辑，更准确地说是单曲循环着《On the Level》这首歌。 和豆瓣结识的朋友第一次出来，临分别前揣在兜里的手摸着烟和火，始终没好意思拿出来，觉得这和自己在豆瓣刻画的环保极简的形象不符。后来临走前又一起吃饭，吃饱后终于掏出了烟，朋友说「你还憋了挺久的嘛」，忙不迭解释是回北京才抽的，因为北京抽烟的人太多，引得我馋。 又或是和抽烟的朋友见面，末了装作已经戒很久了，但看在被对方offer的份上还是来一根吧。这屡试不爽地会让别人觉得很flattered。 爱人提出的「在北京的状态怎么和在湾区时不一样」这事，自己也一直在思考，却抓不准具体的症结。 只知道离开湾区前已经开始悸动，人格随着飞机落地首都机场的那一刻就分裂成另一个样子，而后又会在假期接近尾声时对北京的状态感到厌烦，最终随着降落旧金山机场，迫不及待地恢复到现在的状态。 一种可能，是因为读书时每次回北京都是赴局见人抽烟喝酒的混沌状态，身体自动把北京和一种更躁动的精神状态划了等号。 还有一种可能，是早几年总在意淫如果没有出国而是一直留在北京，或许会是一个从事文化产业、周末和发小吃饭喝酒看展览演出的小青年。以至于每次回国都在试图relive这个第二人生。 在读了Paul Graham那篇关于城市和野心的文章后，另一种可能则是把责任全部推到城市身上：湾区传递的信息是to live better，北京却在说fuck it all，接着敞开大衣给我看里面所有的诱惑，像个devil。 

至于烟，在这个故事里只是个symbolism，象征着身上所有的戾气和恶习，象征着年轻的荷尔蒙，被环境一招惹就散德性似地跑了出来。 两周时间德性散光，开始渴望安稳闲适温吞积极的状态，就迫不及待地回到生活里。

和兰海说起这分裂的形态，她说你从小就这样。于是觉得这一切被normalized了，也就不那么为自己感到羞愧了。偶尔让情绪有个出口，似乎是好的。 老头在《On the Level》里唱， I’m fighting with temptation but I didn’t want to win. A man like me don’t like to see temptation caving in.

唱完老头就走了。 日后这些自己无法put into words的情绪，由谁诉说？

[yrli]

I loved the music of David Bowie and Prince, but they were larger than life to me. They were comets shooting across the sky who existed in a stratosphere well above my own. I looked up at them in awe. On the other hand, I felt like if I walked into just the right bar on just the right night, Leonard Cohen might be sitting there. I’d buy him a drink. I’d thank him. We’d talk about the state of the world, especially this week, and we’d pound back a few cocktails, probably whiskey. I’d tell him about the first time I heard “Suzanne,” how much “Hallelujah” meant to me when I was in college, and maybe even quote one of his masterpieces back to him (this week it would probably be “Everybody knows the fight was fixed, the poor stay poor, the rich get rich”), but he would make me feel comfortable. Cohen always felt like one of us. He was a people’s poet. He was someone who opened his heart in song after song, capturing something about the fight for love and faith and passion and freedom and hope that others tried to replicate but so often failed to do. As Justine Smith, one of our contributors who actually grew up in the same neighborhood as Cohen says about his accessibility, “Throughout my entire life, through the darkest moments, I always felt somehow I could just write a letter to Leonard Cohen and it would all be all right. I never did, but now I wish I did.” When Bob Dylan won his Nobel Prize, I honestly said aloud to no one, “I hope Leonard Cohen is next.” He was that good, and he will be sorely missed, but his impact will go on forever.

LEONARD COHEN: 1934-2016

[yrli]

You’ve been quiet and strong for so long that I forgot you were suffering.

今天读纽约客给 Leonard Cohen 写的 profile 时，我琢磨作者攒这篇文章攒了多久了，是不是报刊作者们每个人手里都攒了几篇早就写好的回顾型文章，等着老头老太太们撒手的那天发布；我琢磨 Cohen 老爷子这还没撒手呢，纽约客怎么这么猴急。

老爷子说他从青少年时期就开始和抑郁症抗衡，有些年严重得下不去沙发，有些年能正常生活但痛苦的背景音从未消散过（The background noise of anguish still prevailed）。

这是第一次得知他的抑郁症，本能反应是「Of course he’s depressed」，可能是因为听说过他向各派宗教神灵寻找答案的经历。寻求解脱这条路这么苦，大多数人都折在途中而抑郁了。前两年总在说「活得太用力的人后来都死了」，我好奇能幸免的究竟有几个。随后我又在想怎样才算是幸免呢，或许像老爷子这样，最后能落得家庭幸福、资源富足，得以从容地度过尾声，虽然没有达到大圆满，却是比其余那些活得用力的人幸免得多。只是我不知道幸免是不是个好结局。

至于我自己，现在健康地保持着与荷尔蒙近乎同步、每月一low的稳定频率，却还是能深刻体会老爷子说的那个prevailing background noise。最近的状态很像是2014年夏天规律地进行心理咨询的时候。那是一种极其善于自省和内观的状态，对于脑袋里的每一条想法、为什么会产生这样的想法、这些想法有什么规律可循，都高度敏感；像是跳出了肉身在做一个实验记录员，遇到困境时只需要观察和记录，以便下周汇报给心理咨询师，不需要在当下解决问题；因为不需要解决问题而有一种近乎麻痹、让人上瘾的轻松感。

但麻痹苟活毕竟不能持久，更何况间断时的痛苦是加倍的。住在心里的这只不安定的怪兽，还没被打死；总把运势比作股票或浪潮，有起有落，在安稳的日子里我时刻都在担心下一秒就要跌落，连幸福的瞬间都不是纯粹的。

[yrli]

Well Marianne, it’s come to this time when we are really so old and our bodies are falling apart and I think I will follow you very soon. Know that I am so close behind you that if you stretch out your hand, I think you can reach mine. And you know that I’ve always loved you for your beauty and your wisdom, but I don’t need to say anything more about that because you know all about that. But now, I just want to wish you a very good journey. Goodbye old friend. Endless love, see you down the road.

Leonard Cohen (x)

“Now I haven’t gotten near finishing up. I’ve finished up a few things. I don’t know how many other things I’ll be able to get to, because at this particular stage I experience deep fatigue. . . . There are times when I just have to lie down. I can’t play anymore, and my back goes fast also. Spiritual things, baruch Hashem”—thank God—“have fallen into place, for which I am deeply grateful.

The big change is the proximity to death. I am a tidy kind of guy. I like to tie up the strings if I can. If I can’t, also, that’s O.K. But my natural thrust is to finish things that I’ve begun.

I don’t think I’ll be able to finish those songs. Maybe, who knows? And maybe I’ll get a second wind, I don’t know. But I don’t dare attach myself to a spiritual strategy. I don’t dare do that. I’ve got some work to do. Take care of business. I am ready to die. I hope it’s not too uncomfortable. That’s about it for me.

I don’t ask for information that I probably wouldn’t be able to process even if it were granted to me.

At this stage of the game, I hear it saying, ‘Leonard, just get on with the things you have to do.’ It’s very compassionate at this stage. More than at any time of my life, I no longer have that voice that says, ‘You’re fucking up.’ That’s a tremendous blessing, really.”

[yrli]

Observations & Musings

1. 现今的我在心情低落时喜欢给别人花钱，比如给 bc 买礼物，给新生儿小北鼻买可爱却昂贵的袜子，给朋友买生日礼物，etc。我不再享受「treat myself」这件事，因为精简的生活方式使我在自己身上花钱时开始感到 shameful。

I don’t know what to make of that.

最近开始认真地觉得自己在 self-care/self-love 方面的技能是缺失的，很多别人做起来没问题的事在我这里都会变得很拧巴。

2. 一件想不通的事： 个人来讲，我在博物馆只会照建筑本身、逛博物馆的人和一些细节，几乎从来不会工工整整地照艺术作品本身。  却发现有（不少）人去逛博物馆时会给艺术作品本身拍很多照片，一边逛一边发到社交网络上，八张十张甚至更多。起初我以为会这样做的是比较uncultured、不常光顾艺术场所的人的新鲜行为，当发现欣赏的一些人也这样做时开始好奇背后的心理。我在试图揣摩这样做的动机，毕竟艺术作品不是你创作的，拍下来发布在 instagram 上是想表达什么？是为了表示你喜爱/认同这件作品所传达的含义吗？是为了像游客打卡一样地宣布到此一游吗？还是试图从博物馆所有展品中 curate 出专属于你自己的审美和风格？一边逛一边发照片不会打扰你在博物馆的状态吗？ I have so many questions. 

至于在博物馆自拍和 snapchat 的人，就更不能懂了。不过自拍和 snapchat 这两件事本身，我也是不能懂的，和博物馆不一定有关系。

3. 当一个朋友和我说ta觉得自己有抑郁症时，我无法摆脱作为旁观者所带进对话的 judgement，即便自己是个深知这样很讨厌的过来人，也无法摆脱。我会潜意识地拿自己曾经的处境和我观察到的对方的现境作比较，比苦、比惨、比试图挣脱困境的 effort；然后做出「你这点苦算什么、you’re just not trying hard enough」或者「喔你比我苦所以你确实是抑郁吧喔天呐请加油」的 binary 心理建设。

I don’t know what to make of that either.

4. 基于豆瓣的创作和输出一旦搁置一段时间就很难有动力捡起来；但是硬着头皮捡起来后，与生人互动交流的可能性是上瘾的，让人不想停止分享，我不觉得这是健康的，于是进入下一轮搁置。

5. 写不出有连贯性的东西大多是因为读得少。事实上我越来越觉得自己读的东西很少，因此导致文笔差得可笑，可分享的东西没有价值，因此不想输出任何内容。对于已经输出的东西，哪怕是一周两周前的内容，回头看时也想全部删掉。幸好目前这只限于文字内容。

6. 没有办法输出任何有价值的东西时我会开始列 list。all kinds of them - grocery list, shopping list, packing list, to-do list, to-do list at work, to-to list for blog, to-do list at home. 

And look at what I’m doing right now.