I hear the song of the city, im in tel aviv 整天整天从窗户向外看街道的声音邻居的动作光线的变化从童年开始的习惯一开始我被带入某种粘稠静止的日记里把佛珠一个一个挤出去或许比普鲁斯特的颜色更灰一些里面隐藏着在一个不是家的城市里躲在太阳下某间小屋而世界从身边滑过的徒劳 happiness begins with thinking about yourself, and do whatever you have to make yourself feel better my sister is leaving for Paris tomorrow. it is bad. she knows how to live 时间和空间消失眼睛和思绪是快进的云