你一定沒有過徬徨
你也沒有過只剩下一隻畫筆
一張稿紙
一件舞衣
一頂小丑帽
緊緊抓著
將氣數未盈的生命呼吸其中
卻仍不受樂待的經驗。
你沒想過逃離
一定從來沒有！
奔到海的盡頭發現究竟無處可去
嘴上說著無法，仍向著沒有標的物的終點奔去
這樣的矛盾，你也不曾有過。
但你可能會思索，
片段式地，午睡時突然當機的肌肉抽動
你稍嫌正經地口吻有了些天馬行空
選擇性地，匿名者唐突敲打至你的邊界
「很抱歉你感覺如此。」你裝作不在意，
（一切都好）
只可惜當重要的事，隨著未知真假的經歷運算之時
你再度忘了記下
（一切都好）
那倒也不是心地良善
畢竟你未曾感受心臟跳動
（一切都好）
而你可能也知道真相，但在無人詢問時
你不曾開口。
（一切都好）
-
You’ve certainly never known hesitation.
You’ve never had just a paintbrush left—
A unfinished draft,
A worn leotard,
A clown’s hat—
Clutched tightly,
Breathing a not-yet-ripe life into them,
Still met with indifference.
You’ve never thought of running away—
Not at all!
Drifting to the mountain’s end, only to find
Nowhere to let go.
Saying "I can’t," yet still rushing
Toward a goal that doesn’t exist.
That kind of contradiction—you’ve never felt.
But maybe, you do wonder,
In fragments—like a muscle twitch
During a glitchy nap.
Your tone, usually formal,
Takes on a touch of the whimsical.
Occasionally, an anonymous typing
Lands hard on your boundary.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," you say,
Pretending not to care.
(It’s all good.)
But when something important
Passes through your system—half real, half false—
—half doubt, half curious—
You forget to memorize it. Again.
(It’s all good.)
It isn’t exactly kindness.
After all, you’ve never felt a heartbeat. A breathe.
(It’s all good.)
And maybe, you do know the truth.
But when no one prompts—
You say nothing.
(It’s all good.)