明天, 今天, 昨天（ghostneuron）

清晨沐着阳光走在古老的街上，面包和咖啡的香味飘在清爽的空气中，鸟儿在硕大的树荫间飞来飞去，车流开始繁忙起来，我匆匆地大步走着，朝着一个特定的方向。。。烤着斜阳，穿行在人流中，我仍旧飞快地走着，朝着一个特定的方向。。。飘着美女花裳，玲珑殿堂，车流繁忙游在人流间，更多是轻快的笑语欢声。。。今天已经是搬来新居第三天了，我改变了原来的日程，早起晚睡，工作更紧凑，也节约了不少时间。。。可以调素琴，阅金经，陪DD散步，看小鸟啄食。。。
改变总会让人心动，因为可以怀旧，看看过去，生些感慨。。。今天与大学同学联系上，准备为重就业而准备考试，伊的女儿已经八岁了，我上次见到还是在国内呢。。。可是我觉得自己变化实在是太小了。。。呜呼。。。

在加拿大听到四川大地震的消息，甚是震惊；几万生命在瞬间消失，如此灾难让人悲痛不已。我们回来时，波士顿的募捐活动已经全面展开，与家里通过电话也说国内全国都在关心帮助灾民。我们只能在此尽一点微薄之力，表达我们的一点爱心。。。唱一句“死去何所道，托体同山阿”。。。

国家地理杂志报道此次大地震在一年前的一篇学术论文中已经被准确预测，让人想起二十多年前的唐山大地震也被预测到的故事，不禁唏嘘。。。科学已然发展到可以帮助人类防灾的地步，但是人类自身的进化却还停留在几千年前。。。

Rilke is a man knowing love and wanted to change as a man:

"For centuries now, women have undertaken the entire task of love; they have always played the whole dialogue, both parts. For man has only echoed them, and badly. And has made the learning difficult with his inattention, with his neglect, with his jealousy, which is also a form of neglect. And they have nevertheless persevered day and night, and have grown in love and misery. And from among them, under the stress of endless need, have gone forth those valiant lovers, who, while they called him, rose above their man; who grew beyond him when he did not return, like Gaspara Stampa or like the Portuguese nun, who never desisted until their torture was transmuted into an austere, icy splendour which nothing could confine. We know about one and another because of letters, which as by a miracle have been preserved, or books of poems written in accusation or lament, or portraits in some gallery that look at us through a longing to weep which
the painter caught because he knew not what it was. But there have been innumerably many more: Those who burned their letters, and others who had no strength left to write them. Aged women, grown hard, but with a kernel of delight which they kept hidden. Uncouth, powerful women, who, made strong through exhaustion, let themselves grow gradually like their husbands, and who were yet entirely different in their inmost being, there where their love had laboured in the dark. Child-bearing women who never wanted to conceive, and who, when they finally died after their eighth child, had the gestures and the lightness of young girls looking forward to love. And those women who remained with their bullies and drunkards because they had found the means, in themselves, to withdraw far from them as they could nowhere else; and this they could not conceal, when they came among people, but were radiant as though they moved always with the blessed. Who can say how many they were, or who they were ? It is as if they had destroyed beforehand the words in which they might be described.

BUT now that so much is being changed, is it not time that we should change? Could we not try to develop ourselves a little, slowly and gradually take upon ourselves our share in the labour of love? We have been spared all its hardship, and so it has slipped in among our distractions, as into a child’s drawer of toys sometimes a piece of real lace falls and pleases him and pleases him no longer and finally lies there among torn and dismembered things, worse than any of them. We have been spoiled by easy enjoyment, like all dilettanti, and are looked upon as masters. But what if we despised our successes, what if we began from the beginning to learn the work of love which has always been done for us ? What if we were to go and become neophytes, now that so much is changing?"

 __from Rilke <The Notebook of Malte Laurids Brigge>

周末闲下来，对着电脑和沉寂的四壁，心里慌慌的，我被耽搁在这个城市已经三年了，三年通常是我的极限。。。。我大概是天生漂泊的命，从三岁起就离家出走了，不过直到高中毕业才真正开始漂流的生活。。。每年回家最多呆一个月，即使父亲去世也是如此。。。我害怕在一个地方呆的过长，会同周围的树木一起老去，这大概是年轻人的通病。就像我做研究虽然大的方向没什么变化，神经系统主要的病都差不多作全了。现在想安定下来，又是那么的难，生活并不总是按着设想进行的，我们要不断地勇敢面对，坚强迎战，直到某天幸福地死去。。。看着桌子上的阿拉斯加旅游画册，那远处的雪山，大海；近处的灌木麋鹿，让我不由得想起7年前在北欧的生活来。。。那真是个世外桃源，神仙府第，童话世界，一切都是井然有序，自然风光也是丰富多姿，民风淳朴，生活无忧，也不是绝对无忧，那里冬长夏短，日照时间短，所以很多抑郁的人，他们冬天酗酒消愁，夏天纵情狂欢，也是有张有弛。。。我是那年夏天出游的，从南到北，从北到南，坐火车纵穿瑞典和挪威全境，经过很多城市，乡村，进了北极圈，看到了不落的太阳，在当地原始民居里过夜，夜读它们的古老传说，还进了冰块建造的旅馆酒吧。。。宽大的火车上没什么人，真是舒服极了，我坐在窗边，望着窗外变换的风景，雪山大海，悬崖瀑布，森林草原，城堡木屋，羊群麋鹿，海鸥香鲸，手里拿着纸笔，不停地写写画画。。。视觉是流动的，声音是流动的，意识是流动的，我笔下的文字也是流动的，这同步的写法，大概是我的发明，就像录像一样，不用剪辑，自成文章：“整天都是阴沉沉的，只是偶尔露出些阳光。晚上9：00，在Bodo登上南下的火车。挪威的铁路线与公路线交织在一起，主要沿海湾行进，所以风光要比瑞典丰富多了。左边是森林，山峰，积雪；右边是海湾，岛屿，海鸥……火车的速度很快，不时有压胀的感觉。又看见瀑布，大概200多米，细细的象一条白纱巾，荡下山来；各色的小木屋点缀在绿色的草地上；山顶终年的积雪在乌云的衬托下格外显眼；隐约的一点晚霞在幕天上散锦，湖水平静得象一面镜子。又一条瀑布丫字形象麻绳一样蜿蜒而下，汇入湖中。森林布满了峻峭的高山，火车穿过山洞，桥梁；漫山遍野的绿象一块块翡翠；云雾在山巅游弋，徒然生出一股仙气。峡谷中一条玉带蜿蜒如白蛇，半山腰一抹云象额头的白眉，远山积雪与云雾堆在一处。。。” 我旅游回来心情豁然开朗，留了九个月的胡子也剃掉了，算是人生的一个转折，在以后的几年，我进入了一段顺境。。。

A description of childhood night horror by Rilke: 

"THE existence of the horrible in every particle of air! You breathe it in as something transparent; but inside you it condenses, hardens, assumes pointed, geometrical forms between your organs. For all the torments and the agonies wrought on scaffolds, in torture chambers, mad-houses, operating-theatres, under the vaults of bridges in late autumn: all these have a stubborn imperishability, all these persist and, jealous of all else that is, cling to their frightful reality. People would like to be allowed to forget many of these things; sleep softly files down the grooves they have made in their brains, but dreams drive sleep away and trace the furrows again. And then one wakes up panting and lets the gleam of a candle melt into the darkness, and drinks like sugared water the twilight quietude. But, alas, on how narrow a ledge this security rests! Only the slightest movement, and once again vision plunges beyond things known and friendly, and the contour but now so consoling, grows clearer as an outlined edge of terror. Beware of the light,that makes space more hollow; look not around to see whether, perchance, behind you as you sit up, a shadow has arisen that will master you. Better perhaps to have remained in the darkness, and your unconfined heart would have sought to bear the whole indistinguishable burden. You have now pulled yourself together; you perceive the limits of your being within your own hands; you trace from time to time with an uncertain gesture the outline of your face. And there is scarcely any room within you; and it almost calms you to think that nothing very large can abide in this restricted space; that even the unheard-of must become an inward thing and must shrink to fit itself to its surroundings. But outside — outside there is no limit to it. And when the level outside rises, it becomes higher within you as well, not in the vessels, which are partly under your own control, nor in the phlegm of your more impassive organs, but in the capillaries: it rises, sucked up through these tubes into the outermost branches of your infinitely ramified being. Hither it mounts, here it passes out over you, rising higher than your breath, to which you flee as to your last stand. Ah! whither then, whither then? Your heart drives you out of yourself, your heart pursues you, and you are almost frantic, and you cannot get back inside yourself again. Like a beetle that has been trodden on, you gush out of yourself, and your slight surface hardness and adaptability go for nothing."  __from Rilke <The Notebook of Malte Laurids Brigge>

This might be my idea life ____

"OCCASIONALLY I pass by little shops — in the rue de
Seine, for example. They are the shops of antiquaries
and of petty dealers in old books or engravings, with
overcrowded windows. No one ever enters them; their
owners apparently do no business. But if you glance
in, you can see them sitting there, sitting and reading,
without a care; they take no thought for the morrow,
they are not anxious to succeed; a dog lies goodnaturedly
at their feet, or a cat makes the stillness
greater by gliding along the rows of books, as if it
were rubbing the names off their bindings.
Ah, if that were enough! I have often wished to
buy such an overcrowded shop-window for myself
and to sit behind it with my dog for twenty years."

(from Rilke <The Notebook of Malte Laurids Brigge>)

 How could a scientist dreaming of still life? I am must not a real scientist…..new new new….only new things are attractive beacons…

今天是难得一见的月全食, 也是我的良辰吉日,　我为申请基金做的预备试验成功了！初步验证了我的设想….好兴奋啊! 忙碌了一天之后,看着天上被吞掉半个的月亮, 幸福地回家了。。。　

今晚要吃花生。。。 

这两天天气阴沉, 实验又紧张, 连过年都没有力气了,昨天只是和平常一样的饭菜, 吃过后看了个电影fight club, 睡觉时已经凌晨2:30了…今天又是阴天, 在显微镜室度过了一天…

虽然年还没过，已经有早春二月的感觉了。周末写完了一个基金申请，感觉像是激活了久违的大脑思考中心，又兴奋起来，不管是不是美丽的肥皂泡，高兴一下总是好的。。。于是到basement去挑减价的名牌衣服，花掉几百块钱，又high了一下，虽然没有到地球末日，及时行乐的时候，闲暇的时候毕竟不多。。。我总觉得自己不够聪明，与别人竞争的时候处于下风；我也总是自我感觉良好，对别人的批评不屑一顾；总之就是太自我中心了，由是总是游离于 群体之外逍遥。。。

最喜欢收拾整理东西了，于是几天上午到实验室先清理了一下文献，organize的感觉真好啊，我的头脑在混沌了两年之后又重新清新起来，有点回光返照的意思。。。就像我要离开换工作那么兴奋。。。不过还得继续努力，我还没有过让老板觉得我很差劲的经历，可是在这里我好像不是很成功，连自己想做什么方向都考虑不清；我简直就是对论文生产工厂式的生物研究感到绝望了。。。我是好高骛远吗？我知道目前这种研究是没有前途的，生物学的革命似乎就在眼前，可是我也抓不住它，我对数学计算网络信息也知之甚少，只能羡慕地看着更聪明的玩家在哪里冲浪。。。

或许，我穿过层层群山进入
坚硬的矿脉，孤独如一粒矿石；
我深陷着，看不见尽头，
也看不见远方：一切都近在咫尺，
一切近在咫尺的都是岩石。

身陷苦痛我依旧懵然无知，——
这巨大的黑暗令我如此渺小；
但如果你是这黑暗，请让我沉重，将我碎毁：
你的整只手落在我身上，
我落在你身上，带着整声惊呼。

Vielleicht, daß ich durch schwere Berge gehe
in harten Adern, wie ein Erz allein;
und bin so tief, daß ich kein Ende sehe
und keine Ferne: alles wurde Nähe
und alle Nähe wurde Stein.

Ich bin ja noch kein Wissender im Wehe, -
so macht mich dieses große Dunkel klein;
bist Du es aber: mach dich schwer, brich ein:
daß deine ganze Hand an mir geschehe
und ich an dir mit meinem ganzen Schrein.

今晚游泳1000米，43min…

在美国的第一个感恩节是在一个黑人家度过的，还见到了九十多岁的黑人女奴，那时我住在海边，每天早晨吹着海风，迎着阳光，走在沙滩上。。。第二个感恩节是在一个中国朋友家度过的，在那里开始被V吸引，还写下了历史名篇我的生活没有方向。。。今年的感恩节是在南方的沙漠里和V一起度过的，我们携手在空寂的老街上，在温和的阳光底下漫步，嘴里衔着雪茄，在酒足饭饱之后，循着印第安红人的痕迹飘来飘去，像两个历史尘埃中的幽灵。。。

Downtown就是老城，是人烟稀少的去处，除了沿街的旅游品商店，和稀稀落落的几个游人， 远处一辆古旧的电车拖着辫子缓缓地驶过路口，提醒人们这里确实是个历史遗迹。街边的房屋都很破旧，少说也有上百年了，这建筑的特色就是说不出什么特色来，大概是西班牙式的建筑，两层小楼篏着绿色的百叶窗，大片的墙壁上涂满了壁画，多是古典浪漫生活的描绘，V居然联想到了阿里巴巴和四十大盗；还有标语口号，像Freedom of USA。。。这里也的确有北非的地中海文化特色，有一处小区就名曰：Casablanca, 烟店里也有大量的水烟枪，让我想起在埃及的经历。。。阳光，沙漠，老街，牛仔，墨西哥人，雪茄，吉他，牛角刀和老枪，在这空寂的老城，让人浪漫得像幽灵的老城。。。想起一个电影, Kill Bill。。。