
● Chapter 1 ● When night is falling ●
The setting sun had gone down in the west a few hours ago, and in its place was the Moon Lady, who was slowly rising from the east to the center of the sky. Since ancient times, there have been countless legends accompanying the Moon Lady, most of which are about her irresistible magical charm.
In the sky of this nocturnal city of Taipei, the moon lady hangs high, looking down at the crowded traffic gradually fading. As the lights begin to turn on, the moment when the love beasts belonging to the urban jungle drift with their materialistic desires, and the time of their debauchery is approaching by the second.
Some choose to play a cool handgun in front of the Moon Lady, and nourish themselves to say good night to Taipei. Some are indulgent and willing to be dogs and horses to the depths of the urban jungle fascinating unknown and exciting step by step, trying to seek in the world of the ears and senses of the libido relief and depraved and wild flavor.
I can’t help myself and I don’t want to be left out of this sinking. And I, fortunately or unfortunately, am one of them.
I am twenty-two years old, a senior student of a national university, a deviant, just like any other kind of human being, simply letting my soul roam around in this night-less and empty city, searching for another soul or another group of lonely souls, seeking for the relief of stress and extreme pleasure under the sound and light. In the contraction of the uterus and vagina and the trembling of the penis and testicles, we get a short-lived pleasure and a moment of comfort and warmth between lonely souls and the emptiness after the orgasm.
Day after day, we continue to search. It’s not love we’re looking for, because we don’t believe in love. We believe in money and power. We believe only in ourselves and prefer to rely only on ourselves.
You could say we are high class worshippers. To put it nicely we seek a yuppie-like life.
Night after night we continued to pray, and it was not the realization of our dreams that we prayed for, for we no longer dreamed of greatness and grandeur. We prayed for the strange magic of the moon lady radiating in the darkness of the night and for the next lingering warmth between unknown bodies and contact between gray souls.
You can call me a sound and fury.
Yes.
Life is a sea of sound and color.
We don’t want to be burdened by feelings, love is too useless and too heavy.
We do not want to be burdened by finances, so we choose to sell our souls to the devil of money symbols. Wise men such as Faustus eventually chose to fall, we are not wise men, we are just ordinary women with real flesh and blood, six feelings and six desires or even the love of honor and wealth, blindly pursuing power and fame.
What is the meaning of life? What is the purpose of life? What is the focus of the world’s attention and even the criteria for scoring when you leave school?
The faces of my classmates, slightly mocking, puzzled, and looking at me differently, echoed in my mind, and the question mark that had been constantly present since my junior year of college emerged in my mind as it always had. Did I choose the right or wrong path? What is right? And what is wrong? The corner of my mouth with a sneer looking through the car window to see out of the city at night, is still that prosperous and dazzling, people on the road around or busy or leisurely walking, running. Out of the corner of my eye, I accidentally swept into the window light reflecting the glass window of my own.
Can you see from the reflection of the glass that his soul is falling? What is depravity? What is upward mobility? What is the essence of life? Where is the destination of life? Who can I ask? Is what they tell me always right? Doesn’t the definition of life depend on the heart, and everyone has a different opinion?
In fact, this society is gray, a complete gray area, absolute right and wrong black and white only exists in the gray terrain periphery of a small ring, small, just so small. I don’t know how many years have passed before I realized such a crude truth.
Memory of a sheet of full marks in the examination paper suddenly whole stack of the whole seat was blown away by a gust of wind, along with awards and medals since childhood, all sorts of glory disappeared in a sudden, inexplicable a strange wind, never to be seen again, no longer have any meaning.
Mr. Driver interrupted my heavy, slightly dark blue thoughts by telling me I had arrived.
I paid the money, got out of the car, shaking the body of a brand-name clothes, from the GIOGIO ARMINI shirt to the ear behind the wafting POLO perfume, plus a BOY LONDON cool black scuba diving suit leather jacket, left Bibi there are three silver flash of the iron zipper. Pants wear is LEVIS 501, foot is the United States of America in New York BIG APPLE buy cowhide boots, eighty-five U.S. dollars a pair. Wearing on the hand is GUESS the whole glass surface like a planet like a bulge, the glass cover of the number is like floating in space irregularly high and low, the market night market stalls everywhere in the counterfeits of the brand-name watches.
I walked slowly to the place where I had an appointment with Sung.
A place where there is no better place to indulge the senses of the ear and the eye, a place where it is best to forget all worries about the uncertainty of the future.
It is one of the most famous disco pubs in Taipei.
Soon, I will be able to immerse my whole heart and soul in the joyful and dynamic music, to feel and move the pulsations of my whole body, and not to think about the unknowable, not 100% certain future, and my former dreams, past lovers and memories. Forget them all for the time being.
I gazed at a building towering over me and waited over there.
That is a gray and black tin house, it is a tin house, one of the reasons I heard is that it is more fireproof, another is to compare it to give people a more bizarre and novel atmosphere, which is in line with the young people’s favorite novelty. Although from the outside it looks really unimpressive, just like a broken factory. But we all know it’s not like that inside.
Inside, it’s a pinnacle of gold. Some people call it a den of prostitution.
Yes, the men and women come here to shake their hips and tits, and let their flesh pulsate to the primitive courtship music, in order to seduce the opposite sex and pursue the possibility of a night of warmth and ejaculation and orgasm.
The oldest music has its origins in rituals or in the three great events of life – birth, courtship and death.
The oldest humans, long before civilization, did not have love, only intercourse and reproduction.
That is why the desire for sexual promiscuity has always been hidden in people’s natures from the beginning.
Men are sexually promiscuous in order to have their sperm and offspring spread widely and pass on their offspring.
Women, on the other hand, rely on strong and powerful objects to ensure stability in life and superiority in breed.
Love and marriage are just products of civilization.
In the midst of rambling to find a reasonable outlet for my licentious behavior, I saw Shing. A sound and colorful friend. However, he provided me with a lot of borrowed mirrors and references in terms of life experience and social experience. He provided me with many different levels and concepts of entry points, and enriched my thinking horizons.
I walked over to him with a smile on my face and patted him on the shoulder, hugged him a little and shook his hand. Although we hadn’t seen each other for only four or five days, every time we saw each other it was like old friends who hadn’t seen each other for a long time, making out and laughing at each other.
“Where have you been hanging out lately?!” Shing asked with a smile.
“No! I’ve been very good lately. I’ve been holed up at home reading.” I replied with a smile.
“You lied to me? I don’t believe it!” He laughed again.
“How am I like you. You stay up every night and hang out. How many have you picked up lately?” I said back to him.
“Hey. You mind me. I just love to have fun. You’re still the same!”
We sang and sang one another’s songs, and we walked to the door of the pub side by side.
Shing, who is three years older than me, once spent four years in college in the U.S. and is now the owner of a PUB, a KTV, a clothing store, and an automotive material house. He loves money and saves the most. He often counts his day’s income to me, and loves to brag, but the bad thing is that I always believe and accept it wholeheartedly, and I discuss it with him seriously, and I find out new truths from it, and I actually feel that I have benefited a lot. It’s hopeless.
He and I seldom spend money on going to clubs, we always have our own way of getting free food and drinks, and we also get to know the staffs of the clubs very well. Of course, sometimes we would pay a little bit of money to show our appreciation for our friends’ hospitality.
Tonight he and I stepped into this place of sound and color again.
Sung pushed open the door. The noise of people and dazzling lights came pouncing on my face along with the smell of smoke and perfume that filled the room.
On the high round tables of a specially shaped pub, there were dozens and dozens of beers or juices and drinks. Chairs almost a meter above the ground were filled with piles and piles of handsome men and beautiful women, all dressed in fashionable and glamorous outfits. It was a scene that could only be seen in the nightly entertainment venues of the metropolis. Fashionable, bright, and outstanding. This is a scene that can only be seen in the sound and color places at night in the metropolis.
It is another colorful night with a lot of color and a lot of paper and gold, and a room full of color. This is a night of lustful flow, venting, and relief for all the men and women of the world.
At night, pits full of nocturnal men and women, city roses pinned and etched to the lights of prodigal music in here.
The flashing lights intertwine into a colorful spider’s web, which you can see but not touch, but it still catches the hearts and souls of the absentee men and women. People’s souls are like the food of the fallen masters on the neon spider’s web, one by one, because of their own desires and automatically like moths to the evil masters of worship, submission, willing to be a meal to carry out the transaction of flesh and blood, and automatically fall into the net, fall into the net of lust.
How far is the distance between the fantasy world of a pub and real life? Is it so close that it’s just a door away, and when you push the door open, it’s another world? No! In fact, the sound and color of the world is rooted in my heart rather than in the physical environment of my body. The little bit of clarity in my brain that I have never lost tells me soberly.
My brain cells never stop their holy and diligent work, I am always thinking, combining real situations with books, imagination with real experiences, when I can’t combine the situations in the pub or in the society with the moral principles that I have learned, all I can do is to look for new rules of the game to experiment, to imagine, to improve. Maybe I’m just thinking too much, maybe I should see a psychiatrist, WHO KNOWS?
I often feel that the mind can be split in two, and that the soul can be withdrawn from the workings of the body to observe and wander. This reminds me that when I make love to a girl, I often climax in the back position, like Thomas in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and I like to observe the girl’s reactions during sex, their contorted expressions and shins, and their reactions when they climax. At that time, I felt that my soul was abstracted, floating on the ceiling or in the corner of the room, looking in the reflecting mirror at what was going on underneath where I could not see the light of day.
This similarity is being reflected in my demeanor at this very moment.
On the one hand, I’m pushing aside the crowd in this narrow space, following Shing’s pace towards the center of the dance floor; on the other hand, I’m not doing the “proper thing” of searching for the sluts inside the pub, but thinking about some metaphysical things that don’t exist in my mind. I was thinking about some metaphysical things.
Shing took my arm and pushed his way through the crowd to the center of the dance floor, where the most girls were around. We then began to search for our prey with our eyes.
We tantalized the other girls with our eyes. From time to time, we talked in English or exchanged opinions and information. Talking in English is not about practicing basic English listening and speaking skills, it is about avoiding the embarrassment of having girls look at us with suspicion when we talk to each other and make comments.
“how about the two on your land?” I asked Shing in my broken English what he thought of the girls around him.
“ACTUALLY, I PREFER THE THREE BEHIND YOU.” he replied.
We swapped positions on the dance floor in time to the music, and then made offhanded glances at the group of girls just mentioned behind us and to our left from the perspective of where the other had been standing.
In the crowded dance floor, men and women were squeezing each other shoulder to shoulder. Most of the people’s eyes were continuously searching for prey like wild beasts, only a very small minority of the alien is closed eyes, immersed in the dynamic music, wandering, traveling. Thinking of how long ago I had been like that with a pair of pure and innocent, without a trace of impurity in the eyes to the dance lights in the colorful flashes, gently closed the window of the soul to let the notes around the whole body and dance. How long ago was that self, how long ago? Well, I can’t remember. Was it two years ago or a year ago? What kind of a period of time has transformed and distorted my original youthful appearance almost completely?
I shook my head like I was trying to shake off boring thoughts and dandruff.
The two girls to my right couldn’t stop moving closer and pushing towards me. One of them accidentally leaned her whole back against my right shoulder. It’s touching. My hand was deliberately careful to keep some distance from her vital parts. I don’t want to touch her buttocks without paying attention and be thought of as a pervert who likes to eat tofu and sexually harass her.
Distance? My penis was less than five centimeters from the uterus of the girl next door, almost to the point where the whole thing was attached and entered. This kind of distance is definitely not close, say close, say far like from Taiwan to the United States so far, a cushion but definitely not a few. Tonight this urban jungle of lust hunting ground is really crowded, crowded like eating tofu wolves are not happy, like to be unfamiliar handsome East touch a West pinch a piece of the girls are also not happy. This distance is not far? It depends on whether you have taken the step to shorten the distance between each other. The question is how short can I shorten the distance? Can you use words, use wit, use appearance, use dress, use all kinds of internal and external conditions to successfully deliver thousands of sperms from your testicular scrotum to the condom in the womans palace next door? You certainly can’t, but I’m not so sure.
There is almost no physical distance between people, and they may even be completely synthesized as one without distinction. But it is obvious that the spiritual distance is always a hundred thousand miles away, and the meeting of mind and body is only for that moment, only for a short time.
Because you and I are alone, and people are born unequal, but are equally alone.
The distance between one independent and self-aware souls is just like the cars passing by on the road, which may collide with each other and make sparks, and may also cause disputes, but more likely, we will all be safe and sound in our own spiritual track system, and not dare to go out of the track, and continue to move forward in the direction of that unknown place. Some are going home, some are just wandering aimlessly and moving on to their next chance encounter.
That’s when I realized that Shing’s eyes were lingering somewhere. I followed suit and looked over.
A girl wearing a silver-white low-cut one-piece dress was dancing with her partner not far away. Her figure was very good, according to my eyeballing, it was about 35 D. No wonder she dared to dress like this.
I tapped Shing on the shoulder and leaned over to whisper in his ear “Well, 35 D.”
He laughed so hard he couldn’t straighten up and gave me a middle finger up gesture. For my part, I reached out and touched the back of his head to show that my heroes were in the same boat, and took the opportunity to catch him in the act. Then I put my torchy gaze back to roam over the girl’s moving torso.
Looking at the cleavage of the girl next door reminded me of a Chinese lady I know. Her breasts were also quite impressive, and her body was tall and slender. My mind drifted back to the night I had the pleasure of traveling with her and her title of Miss China.
She always spoke in a fatherly manner. Big eyes, soft white skin, slightly plump cheeks with a seductive body. She was truly God’s best gift to men. The only drawback was that the words that came out of her moist lips were always just a simple adrenaline rush, but other than that, her speech didn’t appeal to me at all.
Regularly organized every year, Miss China selection of selected beauties gives the feeling that the quality is getting worse and worse, only the breasts are getting bigger and bigger. Is this the standard of the organizer or the aesthetic of most men in the whole society? Is big breasts beautiful?
A woman who makes it impossible for a man to grasp her with one hand, does such a woman mean that she has a big heart or big breasts? I began to seriously wonder. Just as sexually experienced women have a “phallic worship” complex for men’s penises, men have an even more pronounced “breast worship” for women. Every man wants to “master” the so-called “so that men can not grasp the woman”, the problem is that how many can do it? D.H. Lawrence, the writer of erotic literature, favorite in his novels (such as the son of the lover, Mrs. Chatterley’s lover) to engage in the “phallus worship”. “phallic worship.” What is phallus worship? This goes off the rails in the same way as the worship of a woman’s breasts, from the size of the areola, the color of the nipple or the presence or absence of long hairs on it, the cup of the breast, the shape of the breasts sagging or uplifted….
The various cult complexes, poked and prodded in one sentence, are curious cults because they don’t have them.
Nowadays, the trend of photo shooting is prevalent, but the problem is that how many of the three-tier actresses who dare to take off their clothes and show off are real? Even the jade stars have to be in the bra pads, magic bra is very popular, abstract ideology for commercial use, men’s “breast worship” complex can also be a big seller of money!
There is a saying that “breast augmentation pads chest magic cover, three nuns and six women Mei Dengfeng”, banner: “chest big ambition”.
I still remember that night next to her for a late-night meal, she was wearing a black low-cut sexy one-piece short dress. While her long, slightly plump legs beckoned men to look at her, her breasts in her blouse swayed and beckoned to my cock, as if to say, “Hey, little brother, do you want to rest in the canyon between my peaks tonight? Try a little harder! As long as your old brother has a way to get my big sister to agree.”
As a result, imaginations are, of course, just that: imaginations.
A sound of women screaming and men whistling for a good commotion interrupted my imagination.
My eyes were drawn from superficial thoughts to an iron cage several meters above the ground. Only foreigners and foreign girls were allowed to go up there, and Chinese people and dogs were forbidden to enter. I once wanted to climb up there with Ah Cheng to have some fun, but BARTENDER saw that we didn’t speak English and didn’t dye our hair blonde and wouldn’t let us go up to the show, so I was very impressed. That iron cage is a solo stage for western imported blonde animals, specially used for dancing to show off their muscles, short skirts and thighs that are too thin to cover their black panties. In short, you could call it the throne of the Golden Lion King in the urban jungle zoo.
A golden cat was dancing lustily inside a pocket stage that was perched high up in a steel cage on the bar.
According to her bone structure, height, face, dress and age, it seems that she should be a model, or their group of male and female foreigners legend is all MODEL. away from the hometown background to this handful of small islands to make a living and earn Taiwan dollars. Is Taiwan fun? Is Taipei beautiful at night? If you ask them these questions, the voices in their hearts are probably saying, “Hey, it’s fun to watch all the black-haired, yellow-skinned Taiwanese, and the yellow guy who’s half a head shorter than me, go crazy in a crowded, noisy pub! Of course they were still smiling and saying, “EXCUSE ME?!”
I remember one night a tall, lanky male geezer in a barbed wire fence on that bar was what screamed out.
He was wearing a dark suit, black suit pants, and a tie on his striped shirt, and without a stitch of detail he stood right inside that steel cage, not moving a muscle.
He stood quietly, looking at his watch from time to time, and if he wasn’t standing eerily on a stage in a weird cage two meters above the ground at the bar of a bustling, noisy pub, you’d think he was waiting for the bus to get ready for work. Standard office worker attire.
He crossed his arms in front of his dick’s pants, wearing a pair of dark black sunglasses as he stared squarely ahead in a nighttime manganese field where the sun was nowhere to be seen and the setting sun had long since been replaced by the moon.
Suddenly, the tempo of the music changed, becoming more raunchy and slutty.
The geezer in the cage (let’s call him JOHNNY) also starts to move.
GO JOHNNY GO GO , GO JOHNNY GO GO GO GO !!!!
He began to wriggle all over, slowly he removed his suit jacket, wriggling lustfully as he did so, his legs slightly bent, his hips swaying up and down to the rhythm. Then he took off his tie, shirt, shoes in order, accompanied by screams and whistles, he took off his underwear, suit pants, wow, he even took off his socks, all the clothes with the wild music, Johnny’s dance, the audience’s eyes and applause, one by one, scattered in the cage on the railing, on the ground.
I turned my head to look at Shing, and gave him a little tongue out and a wink, and the look of excitement on my face told him that I found it all hilarious, wacky, and unbelievably funny, and it made me bend over in laughter.GOODNESS!JESUS!WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? At this moment, JOHNNY was left with only a white bullet-shaped underwear that couldn’t enclose the legendary SUPER SIZE western big dick. A monk from afar can read scriptures? However, I am sure that my penis doesn’t have the guts to go on the stage and slowly show it off as JOHNNY did, causing the crowd to shout and marvel.
The night was not yet over, the dawn had not yet risen, and the crowd’s emotions had long since risen and fallen with the waves of decadent sounds from the West and some sounds and colors full of movement and happy rhythms, unable to help themselves.
The Golden Lion King from the West slowly stepped onto the stage that the other beasts in the Eastern city of Mangan had made for him, and in the midst of the cheers and salutations of the beasts under the stage, once again ascended to his throne as the defender of the crown, and unveiled the prelude of the city’s nocturnal, frenzied, and depraved flavor. The primitive and provocative drums of the jungle, accompanied by the maddening halo of the Moon Lady on high, still remain in my mind, hard to erase, as if they were signaling to the people that –
Yes, darkness has fallen upon the land.
● Chapter 2 ● When smoke spreads in the wind ●
Light a cigarette and let the white mist curl up.
Looking out through the misty smoke, layers of aimless, directionless white waves that drifted everywhere, were pairs of long, shapely thighs with skirts and hot pants that were too short to be of any use.
I wasn’t so reckless and greedy as to blatantly search and linger with my eyes on every part of their delicate bodies, but I would never miss such a blood-curdling sight, and neither would any other man.
Having just killed the dance floor with Shing, and giving up the chance to hook up with the girl next to us, we found a seat where we could see the dance floor clearly and had a decent view.
The reason why we didn’t take further “action” before may be that it wasn’t good enough for us, or it may be that we were a little hesitant and timid on the spot, or it may be that they were looking at us in an unfriendly way, suggesting that we shouldn’t act rashly, or it may be that Shing and I have different views on the selection of target groups, or it may be that my mind suddenly flew to the nine heavens and I lost interest in the world of godly travels. Only God knows the real reason.
Anyway, we went back to our seats to rest. I lit up a cigarette.
Often there is some motive that you don’t know, that you can’t describe, that leads to the whole thing. There’s no warning beforehand, you’re in the situation when it happens and you miss the opportunity to capitalize on it, and afterwards, you may feel a sense of regret, regret or, as I do now, a sense of irrelevance, feeling nothing, regret nothing.
“I’ll go around.” Sung said to me as he gestured.
He disappeared into the crowd in a puff of smoke.
He is so energetic. I thought to myself. Always looking like he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants, I know he’s going to go skulking around again, looking for hot chicks. Instead, a small smile spreads across the corners of his mouth.
Are we really just here to get pussy and get laid?
To find someone to HAVE SEX, I have a dozen phone cards of random women I’ve pulled out of my purse, and his wouldn’t be any less than mine.
No. We want HAVE FUN, not just HAVE SEX. We want HAVE FUN, not just HAVE SEX, and HAVE SEX and HAVE FUN are not the same thing, but two different things: HAVE FUN doesn’t necessarily mean HAVE SEX, and HAVE SEX may be just for HAVE FUN.
I think of a night in a hotel bed, after sex, when a bright, dainty, slender and charming cat-like woman in awe of me questioned my “performance in bed”.
She asked, her whole beautiful torso wrapped in white sheets, lying languidly and feebly languidly on the other side of the big bed, looking up at me with her big, bright, slightly brown eyes open:
“Why does having sex with you make me feel like you’re not mentally engaged at all?”
“Maybe you’re very pure and long-lasting in the flesh and in your technique. But I think the way you make love is too rational, too cold, like when and how my feet are going to hang on your shoulders is more
“Just tell me, Frankly.”
What could be easier for a man to contemplate than being completely naked on snow-white sheets in the face of such a sharp and direct questioning from a woman with whom you have just made love? So many question marks gathered one by one through the strange, never-before-seen atmosphere in the air with a little bit of white smoke from the red star of the cigarette slowly twisted from the original unshaped into a symbol of an arrow, pointing directly to the cold rationality that had long been silent inside my heart.
I hadn’t yet wiped the sweat off my forehead and was still hot, when I heard her ask, “It’s like when is the right time for my feet to be hanging off your shoulders…” I couldn’t help but laugh, but then I was confused as to whether it was a habit or whether I was just enjoying making observations and mentally traveling during sex.
“Maybe it’s habit!” I replied after a few moments of silence. Then I smoked in silence.
How did I get into this habit? Under what circumstances did I slowly develop such strange habits? I don’t deny that my cool and observant reaction to her inadvertent discovery of her so-called cold and rational lovemaking habits does exist in a certain part of the lovemaking process that I’m not even sure I’m aware of. Maybe that could be why they always say I’m durable. Of course it’s not a glorious thing, rather it could be a sign of latent psychosis.
HAVE SEX FOR WHAT? Is it for the pleasure of conquering another beautiful woman that men can only dream of, a boring and idiotic sense of vanity? Or is it for the pleasure of making a girl orgasm and die, thus fulfilling the dignity of a man? Or do you want to use sexual intercourse to prove something such as love commitment, community of interest, spiritual contract and all kinds of illusory and unreal existence? Sexual intercourse is beautifully called lovemaking, which is nothing more than an exchange of benefits, the process of signing an agreement of allegiance? Or is it simply and innocently that men and women have sexual intercourse only for the purpose of pursuing the kind of frenzied collapse of the physical sex organs like a strong contraction?
Is sexual intercourse a game of conquest, or is it a communion of flesh and spirit? Or is it a kind of solace for each other in times of loneliness? Is it a way to seek a little spiritual and physical warmth or a purely sensual pleasure? When each other’s soul into each other’s body, you want to do is to embrace the body of the lover comrades or away from the process of sexual intercourse in the observation of each other’s soul? How much profit is being transferred in your name?
Of course it could be nothing. It could just be blindness or a quest for novelty.
“I can feel that your heart is closed and you are not opening it up.” She said in a fitful voice.
“Hmm. Seems like it.” I admitted in a feeble whisper, but my eyes didn’t look at her. I was looking at the ceiling. I remembered it was a patch of slightly light blue patterned wallpaper.
Suddenly I feel a little sad that my lovemaking style doesn’t shorten the distance between each other’s hearts much.
The cigarette in my hand was just like the one between my fingers in the pub now, it had burned to the end, and there was a pile of ash in front of it that hadn’t been flicked off, and it was shaking and collapsing, letting the white smoke rise upwards, entangling layers of thick thoughts, and then being dispersed by the breeze coming out of the air-conditioner, and then being dispersed in the invisible and unattainable air.
Shing’s figure slowly appeared in my sight.
I flicked the ash off my cigarette in passing into the ashtray on the table.
“You’re not in a good mood today?” Sung asked me.
“It’s okay, just thinking about something. Plus I was playing online late last night, so maybe my spirits don’t look so good.” I give him a reasonable explanation.
“Okay then, let’s go up to the speaker and jump on it.” Shing said.
“Hmmm. let “s go !!!! ” I said as I got up.
The two of us then slowly marched from the other side of the dance floor, shoulder to shoulder, around to the speakers, which were about a meter above the floor, and behind which there was a small staircase that could be risen step by step. Aside from the cage above the bar on the other side, this is another stage to get up there and dance your ass off.
Aside from the fact that the dance floor was too crowded with no extra room to dance, there were a couple of advantages for us to dancing on a stage like this one that was high above the crowd. One is the ability to make an unobstructed eye tour of the pretty chicks below who are gyrating their hips hard, while the other is the ability to get their attention properly.
Inside the Pub, this business of hooking up with girls is about being bold, which can be regarded as a discipline that is difficult to be recognized in the halls of elegance. The problem is that when the crown of all kinds of profound learning into the ivory tower of the virtual, what else than some trivial, may call people scoffing at the small road of learning, strange skills to practical, real, for the happiness of life more helpful?
Shing took the stage first for this performance which belonged to us both for the time being tonight. He brought out his thousand and one dance moves and danced his own personal dance with an engrossed, mesmerized look or with his eyes closed or looking around.
I leaned against the speaker and smiled as I watched him boy to the music, which reminded me of when I first met Shing.
That’s what he looked like then too, bouncing around a corner off the dance floor, just by himself. He always kept to himself and didn’t even like to say hello to people he knew. According to what he said later, he had picked up too many girls in the pub, and he just had this strange habit of not liking to say hello to familiar faces.
I walked up to him at the time and said, “I really like the way you dance. I want to get to know you.”
“But I’m not gay.” looking at his strange look, I added this, self-consciously weird.
His dancing was just as good then as it is now, it wasn’t as good or as graceful as it could have been. But I just loved the way he danced in a way that he enjoyed himself and didn’t care what others thought. Happy, sweaty, full-body dancing with his own style. His dancing is a little short and clumsy, but it’s cute, and not like some of the raunchy dances or black dances that are so popular in the pubs, so it’s kind of special.
After that, we met several times in the pub, and we gradually came together. We went crazy in the night, watching the butterflies dance.
I remember the first time he took me to discover that a one-night stand was 100% possible and easy. That was a turning point in my life. I don’t know if I’m exaggerating and being superficial, but I was driven by my sex hormones and curiosity to try one amazing and not-so-imaginable experience and adventure after another. The excitement of the unknown and the uncertain is always overwhelming.
It was a late night after a rainy day, around one or two o’clock in the morning. Shing and I had just come out of a pub and were planning to go to another pub to continue our sex hunt.
After he drove the car to the entrance of the pub, we both noticed two girls standing in front of the entrance of the other pub about 6 or 7 meters to my right. They looked like they were waiting for someone, but not quite.
Shing and I exchanged a wink. I waved my head in the girl’s direction, implying that he would be the one to step in, while I went along with the FOLLOW and cooperated from the sidelines.
He gave me a hopeless “there you go again” look, slammed the car door, and walked in the direction of the girl. I followed in lockstep.
“Miss. Excuse me. Can I make friends with you guys?” Sung began his usual opening line while wearing his signature smile on his face.
The two girls looked at Sung and me, and then proceeded to look at each other.
I continued, “If it’s convenient, we can drive by and give you a ride. See wherever you guys want to go.”
They both looked at me, and then at each other with a smirk on their faces asking what the other meant.
Suddenly one of the long-haired ones spoke up, “Would it be inconvenient?” She asked.
“No way! Where are you going?” Shing asked.
“We want to go back to Heavenly Mother.” The long-haired girl continued.
“Oh, that’s no problem. You guys look like you were waiting for someone originally?” I interjected.
“Well, but we seem to have been stood up. Been waiting for her for almost an hour and she’s still not here.” Another more petite girl with short hair replied.
“Then if you don’t want to wait, let’s get in the car!” I said with a smile on my face.
So they looked at each other again and after exchanging a few words picked up their bags and the long haired girl said, “Thank you in advance then.”
I went back to the car and opened the door to the back seat of the car for them, politely inviting the gentleman in. It was our usual gentlemanly manner.
We chatted on the road that night, half because Shing and I were so in tune with each other, and the other half because they were also chatty, cheerful and generous.
We then let the two girls take turns driving near Tianmu to give them a taste of what it’s like to drive fast. After that we went back to their place at the foot of Yangmingshan.
That night was the first one-night stand experience I’ve ever had. But not the only one.
Since then I have loved the excitement of unveiling the thrilling unknown hidden in dark mysterious places. The excitement and joy is like opening a bottle of well-sealed vintage champagne. You know it’s going to “pop” or louder. But first you have to know how to open it the right way, and then you can wait with great excitement for that sudden, surprising pop and the liquid that fills the mouth of the bottle as it opens.
This kind of erotic hide-and-seek always reminds me of one of the most popular computer games in my country during my middle school years – Fantasy Space.
The protagonist of the game is a penniless middle-aged man, who has been indulging his ears and eyes in different places of pleasure all over the world. His name is Larry. What’s fascinating about this game is the constant stream of hot encounters. And you never know what you should do next in order to have a taste of skin to skin with a lot of beautiful women. And you never know what you should do next in order to have a taste of skin to skin with a lot of beautiful women, you are playing the role of LARRY (LARRY) in this computer game. LARRY he is a hair slightly bald, wearing a sunglasses, wrinkles on the eyebrows, belly under the belly, look neither tall nor handsome, on the body is a dime are not the short and shriveled blasphemy of the man. A man like him is exactly the role you play in the game, he is the hero! He should know how to make use of all the opportunities and objects, he should know how to talk to the girls, he should know how to talk to the girls. He rummaged around for anything he could get his hands on. He rummaged around for anything he could collect and utilize.
I’m glad I’m so much better off than Larry. But I don’t have his kind of cheek and deed spirit. Because I know very well that the game I’m playing has to be a little measured. That is to say, within a certain range I can not exceed, also can not press RESTART (replay). It’s hard to fail once and start over again, like LARRY did, to rewind time to the same screen and try again. After all, I’m playing a game in a realistic scenario, in real time and space. So I only get one chance. I have to know what kind of scene I’m in, what kind of reaction I should have or what words I should say, and every kind of response will bring me to a different result, which I can’t predict, and that’s what makes it so exciting.
I couldn’t know exactly what would happen or what would happen to me if I went up to this girl or if I left with her later. I had opened this door, this window, but I couldn’t know exactly what kind of different life I would be exposed to. Maybe it will be her or his way of life or unimaginable life experiences that I never imagined, or maybe I will be changed by it, and I will begin to revise some of my own ideas and perceptions about people, things, and events. All I could know for sure was that I was walking on the edge and everything during the day would automatically pull me back into my real life routine and I would eventually get back into the order of my life again, it was just a game of sound and fury when the night came for me to transform in front of the Moon Lady.
It’s very real, but it’s not close to my daytime life, so I occasionally feel like it’s as real as it gets, and no one around you would believe it when you say it. After all, it was incredible. In the midst of that I went through excitement, restlessness, waiting, hesitation, overwhelm… All kinds of ups and downs. After that I slowly became a calm and sophisticated player due to my fascination and courage to challenge the unknown, is that good? I don’t know. All I know is that it’s a game that will fascinate, immerse, and overwhelm you. And the moment a game is overplayed is the moment it makes me almost play things. That’s when I should have realized that a game is just a game after all, even if it’s very real and very, very exciting, it’s still a game after all. Rather, it is a game that should come to an end.
The hardest part of playing the game is the first step of the beginning and the last step of the end, I chose to press the start button to make sure that I have the courage and perseverance to press the end button, or else I may become a LOSER, and from then on lose the right to play the game again.
This is a game of the nature of ONE NIGHT STAND.
There is no need to have any burden, it’s about what you want, and there is no need to be psychologically indebted after it’s over. We are still friends. Very talkative friends with a touch of lover and confidant.
We share each other’s hearts and flesh without taking on each other’s emotions and suffering. It’s quick and easy, and you can throw it away as soon as you’re done.
Maybe it’s because we’ve grown accustomed to coldness and indifference.
When two straight lines gradually approach, only at the point of intersection we twisted the original cold and rational lines, blossomed a little patience and warmth, talking about love but not love. Briefly remove the mask of cold defense, tell each other’s stories and experiences. And I always play the role of a listener competently. Maybe it’s because my own life story is not wonderful or twisted enough, maybe it’s because I always concentrate with my eyes and respond with my eyes, listening and watching, so they are also a steady stream of talking, talking about some of the depths of the heart of the heart of the unknown heart and the past. After that, the two straight lines that happened to intersect were destined to extend in different directions, perhaps only after a week around the earth will they intersect again, but I don’t know what year, month, day, or time it will be after that.
Shing was still dancing on top of the speaker. Mortar and pestle by the speakers, I rubbed up a bit of flame on the head of a match, and I lit another cigarette so that I could continue my thoughts.
I prefer to light my cigarettes with matches rather than a lighter. Who uses matches to light cigarettes anymore? It’s because everyone uses lighters that I think it’s different and cooler to use matches to light a fire. In the fairy tale, the little girl who sells matches in the cold winter burns her last hope and a little bit of hope for the world by lighting a small match that is not enough to protect her from the cold. I, on the other hand, use the lighted matches to light up a cigarette that is harmful to my health and contemplate on my past memories or present feelings.
The words “Smoking is bad for your health” and “Smoking causes cancer” on the cigarette packet did not produce any strong warning effect at all. I still let the layers and clouds of rising smoke carry me to the infinite extension of my thoughts and imagination. The nicotine slowly explored my lips, my tongue, my mouth, and even left traces of its ravages on my original white gums and between my teeth, making the original snow-white no longer pure. Immediately following with my deep inhalation, the smoke slipped into my lungs and coiled next to my heart. A quick exhalation follows as I try my best to expel the toxins out of my system in a puff of mist.
If it says “Smoking causes impotence” on the pack, will men who like to smoke cut it in half or smoke less? I don’t think so. Fish and bear’s paw, cigarettes and penis, sex and life, all are difficult to choose the choice?
Smoking addiction is just a kind of “fetishism”. Some people are in love with money, some people are in love with fame, some people are in love with power, some people are in love with the aimless game of cheating and soul wandering that is not willing to be subjected to rationality. It does not matter whether it is normal or abnormal. A person who is not addicted to alcohol, sex and money may seem more of an anomaly.
Shing was still bouncing from side to side on top of the speakers, his sweaty head dripping with his signature smile that showed his teeth slightly.
Suddenly he turned his head to look at me who was smoking a cigarette on the right side of the speaker.
He crouched down, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, “Get up here and jump!”
“Yes!” I gave him a simple and clear answer. Smoothly, I let the cigarette fall gently to the floor, and I stomped on it with my leather boots.
Smoke still continued to puff and leap out of people’s mouths and fingers. The white mist filled the air as if it were the incense-filled payload of a temple of lust, slowly rising to pray to the Moon Lady to guide her gray wishes.
And the night, it’s not over yet.
● Chapter 3 ● When butterflies fly in the night … ●
The butterflies that flutter in the clubs at night are fascinating, but the reality can be cold and expensive ¡Ó
The most beautiful butterflies and roses of the night in Taipei are almost all gathered at this intoxicating pond tonight, fluttering and blossoming to their fullest, releasing their fascinating butterfly dust and fragrance to all the young and old, men and women in the PUB. Maybe it is vulgar, maybe it is strong and not pure enough, but it undoubtedly has a certain charm that stirs up people’s hearts and makes them willing to temporarily get rid of the shackles of morality and cleanliness and join the ranks of the competing birds and swallows.
In the hazy diffuse smoke, in the colorful light, looking at the figure of lipstick warblers, easy to remind me of the past I had or never really had some good or no longer good soul and its shell, as well as extending the memory of perhaps a little bitterness perhaps slightly remorseful apology perhaps slightly frustrated some of the heart of the miscellaneous and difficult to describe the taste.
One night when I drove a girlfriend to my former high school girlfriend’s house for a routine tour, I suddenly realized that it was women who had introduced me to a large part of the world and to different kinds of life. It was in the course of interacting with them, talking to them, playing with them, that I learned what they thought, what they had been through and what they were looking forward to in the future, what they did for a living, even what their dads did for a living, or what their families did for a living.
That’s my bad habit. Whenever a new woman comes to visit me in my hometown of Taichung, when I drive or ride my bike to take them on a trip, in addition to being a competent guide to lead them to recognize the traces of my growth from childhood to adulthood in this booming metropolis, I often inadvertently drive them to the doorsteps of my former girlfriends, and when I pass by, I always introduce to them the love affairs between me and my former lovers, as well as the tragic green of youth, innocence and even more precious and touching obsession nowadays. I would always tell them about my past relationships with my ex-lovers and the youthfulness, innocence and even more precious and touching obsession of the time.
When I think of the time when I first went north to study in Taipei, I started my career alone in a foreign country, and it was one woman after another who led me to recognize Taipei City.
It may be ridiculous, but it was between picking them up from school, going home and even dating them that I got to know the human geography of Taipei City step by step. From the Eastern District to Tianmu, from Danshui to Banqiao, and from Xindian Jingmei to Sanshong and Xinzhuang.
Don’t laugh at me for being ridiculous, but it really couldn’t be more obvious. There are only men and women in this world. Men and women make up the world.
Having just danced with Shing on top of the speakers for a while, I slipped down to the seat next to the bar for a drink break by myself. After finishing a can of beer, I asked the bar for another. I looked at the dancing warblers on the dance floor with the layers of white foam in the can of deadly yellow soup in my hand. In the middle of the crowd, I saw Xiao Yang, one of Cheng’s lovers. I walked over and tapped her on the shoulder and greeted her with a smile.
“Did Shing come today?” She asked me.
“There is! He’s dancing on top of the speakers over there. Roy! Ever see that?” I said as I pointed in the direction of the speakers.
“Uh-huh. I’m going over to him for a bit. See you later.” She gave me a smile and then disappeared back into the crowd.
In less than a minute, Imaging appeared in front of me like a groundhog emerging from a black mass of people.
“Did you tell Jan that I was here?” He asked.
“Yeah. You’re here.”
Shing patted my head and laughed, “You set me up. She wanted me to take her home. It’s at least an hour round trip. Causing me to have no fun again.”
“No, I won’t! You’ll be back at about 1:00 or 2:00, so hurry up! Hurry up, I’m still waiting for you to take me home. Ha.” I couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“It’s all you. Hmph. Take a cab home by yourself, I don’t care about you.”
“Oh. Come on, come on. I’ve been out with you. I’ll keep my mouth shut next time.” I said pretending to beg.
“Hmm. Whatever. I’ll be back as soon as I can anyway. You go ahead and play with yourself. I’ll come back for you.” Shing said as he glanced at Yang who was appearing in front of both of us.
“Uh-huh. Come back soon.” I said.
So they left together. I was left alone at the bar, observing all the different kinds of people in the pub. Sometimes it’s fun to just “people watch” in a pub without dancing.
The season in the PUB is always summer, and it’s clear from what the women in there are wearing, because they are always dressed airy and cool. Truly it’s the covering area that is irrelevant to the warmth effect, and the lower half of the body has no perception of cold or warmth.
For example, there is a woman less than three meters away from me, she is wearing a hollow belly white cutie, with just enough to cover the buttocks of the hot red pants, feet on the high black high heels of more than ten centimeters. She was swaying all over, with her ass and waist twisting together in the most seductive way, full of sexual innuendo and teasing.
The two female partners in a circle around her were no less impressive in their dress and dance style. Almost formulaic, the height of the shoes must be at least ten centimeters high, and the soles are heavy wooden planes, so as to show the slenderness and delicacy of their legs, and overall give a tall, unattainable feeling.
The tops of the girls were dressed in shiny black artificial leather or pure white or even bright red colors, which were most common in the pubs. They usually put their light-colored cotton wool coats on high chairs. On their heads, they wear dark blue beanies, or they go out on the dance floor with a small bag on their backs with four legs spread out like frogs around their shoulders and waists. Or maybe she wore a short white dress that was so short she had to cover herself with her hands when she walked to prevent it from going off, and covered it with a pair of deep black lace panties that caught her eye. Or maybe she was wearing a padded, cleavage-concentrating magic bra, and that was all she wore on top, braving the cold and the stares with another pair of short blue jeans with whiskered legs and a white wash.
The girls on the dance floor were dancing, shaking and waving to their heart’s content. Looking at their exquisite concave and convex body, a few pieces of short cloth on the body can only cover the key parts, as well as the long, slender and moving long legs, can be held in a thin waist, surrounded by the men who are waiting for a tiger, one by one, with wide-open eyes to concentrate on their bodies in the masturbation.
Can you look at a girl’s face and realize or guess what’s going on underneath her cold or spirited face? Can you look at a girl’s high, prominent breasts, hidden under a thin cloth, and imagine what it will feel like when you put your hands on them? Do you feel the urge to go up to them and talk to them? Would you want to hold a girl in your arms as you look at her slim waist and exposed belly, as if she is smiling at you?
You may or may not.
But when you take that step, everything will be different.
She is a girl who is as innocent as a white rabbit but reveals a natural and generous sexy flavor. What attracted me to her was not the curves of her body, but the look of déjà vu on her face. Yes, she gave me the same feeling as one of my oldest girlfriends, whom I had fallen in love with. Her whole body was full of youthfulness and vigor, with a bright and pleasant temperament in her natural generosity. A pair of flexible eyes, simple and persistent reveals her heart to the life of some things in the persistence and enthusiasm.
At that time, I knew very well that when I came to the pub, what I should do was to indulge my lust instead of searching for a fresh and bright girl like a white rabbit, pure and sexy, bright and generous. It’s supposed to be an erotic world full of depravity, where you only need to be sexually aroused, not heartbroken. But that’s where I met her.
I didn’t have a single other thought or evil desire for her, let alone a sexual desire to have sex with her. I didn’t want to. I just liked the feeling of looking into her eyes and listening to her when I was with her.
I was talking to her in the early hours of that morning downstairs in front of her house smoking a cigarette and leaning on her motorcycle. She said she had a record coming out in a year. She said she was tired of living day to day, and that after a six-hour nursing shift at the hospital, she had to undergo a series of acting classes in stagecraft, dance, singing, hosting, talent, theater, etc. She said she was still young, only nineteen, and wanted to drop everything and have fun. She says she’s still young, only nineteen, and would love to drop everything and have fun. But she wanted to have money, lots and lots of her own money. She doesn’t want to be a nurse and receive 20,000 dollars a month until she’s old and gray. She didn’t want to get married, and she didn’t want to marry her boyfriend, who had a famous TV producer for a father. She wanted to have her own business. No matter what, it was at least a dream of her own. In order to realize her hopes in life, she has to endure the work, the physical and mental burdens, the mental indulgence and derailment, and in reality, she has to listen to her boyfriend who supports her financially, even though he may represent an emotional burden and a nightmare of an uncertain future in show business and a full schedule of schoolwork and calendars.
As for me, I was a temporary visitor and listener who accidentally entered her orbit. She gave me a few gently full of fragrance and the unique innocence of young girls tender kisses and her story, and each other and disappeared in each other’s life voyage, waiting for the next unexpected encounter.
Listening to the stories of the girls or their heart-wrenching past experiences or even about the hardships and burdens they must endure in their present or future lives, I am often powerless to do anything but listen, think and respond intently. But I don’t have the power to change the past or the future that is to come, and I even avoid any promises of a long life with each other, and I can’t even say words that represent strong emotions such as like or love. I can’t even say words like like love or affection, which represent strong emotions, because they are not real and don’t correspond to reality and actuality.
About love, about two youngsters, innocent love songs, those are already too far away from my mind. And I’m only twenty-two.
Love is something I understand, but what is it forever? To put it bluntly love is just a combination of bondage, constraints and boredom with a little bit of commitment and hurt. Love is just an excuse often used by an immature individual who wants to attach themselves to another individual. Affection is dependence and habit, but when it becomes a burden for a person to move on and explore the unknown and grow, then it becomes heavy and unloadable.
That’s why I loathe love.
Why talk about love? Why is it so hard to talk about love? Wouldn’t it be nice to be relaxed, free and happy? Why do we have to make a commitment to tie up each other’s lives? I hate commitment. No one should be the center of another person’s life.
I want real experiences about life and society. But once I get too close, too close to those living others’ stories, over time, it always makes me lose the motivation and courage to explore and pursue again and again. Because once you know the truth, you have to choose to accept or escape. Of course, you can also occasionally like me like a choice in a particular situation and cold solid reality between the narrow gap in the prolonged miserable gasp.
I used to think that life was all about trying. Life is about feeling, experiencing, and challenging the limits of what you can tolerate and accomplish in the midst of constant change. That’s what makes life exciting and rich, and that’s why I haven’t lived my life in vain.
But sometimes I feel like I’ve had enough, and I don’t want to put up with the pressure of competition and challenges anymore. I just want to live and breathe, to feel the freedom of not having to grow or achieve anything.
For me, life is still a struggle. I struggle between my passions and my morals, between my selfish desires and my conscience, between books and pubs, between my future life and the definition of success.
What is success? Why does it have to be successful? Is a successful life the only one that is genuine, honest and recognized by everyone? Why does my “successful” life have to be recognized by others in order to be considered “successful”? Why does a successful life have to be famous and favorable, and live in the eyes of other people’s approval, gaze, and even envy and admiration all the time to be considered “successful”? I began to get tired of those so-called lifelong dreams, so-called life goals, and all sorts of laborious things that I had set for myself in the past.
I tilted my head back and gulped down the glass bottle of beer in my hand in one gulp.
Now I just want to forget everything and revel in the joy of liberation and depravity. I don’t want meritocracy. I don’t want to live in the eyes and expectations of others, not anymore.
Suddenly I remembered a night when I had been drunk.
That night I sat with Shing in his big Jaguar limousine while he drove. We were both very drunk.
I yelled out and asked him, “What “s the meaning of your life? How doyou think of your life? What the hell is this?”
“Life is just for fun. Be happy, don “t be sorry.” He let go of the steering wheel with both hands, shaking his head, spreading his hands out and smiling as he gave me a lighthearted answer. Instead, the car suddenly spun out of control and snaked down the road.
At that time I just felt the sky spinning. I knew I couldn’t even walk in a straight line. Drunk in the night cold from the car sunroof through the wind between, confused in the city a few people in the night, decadent debauchery in my youthful, young and old youth years.
The computerized control light above the speakers flickered and spun. Suddenly a beam of pure white light shone in my face, waking me up from inside the memories of that night and back to the reality of time and space.
The cone of the beam of light was big and small, as if it was endowed with a flexible will to live, changing its shape and color from time to time, dancing and changing with the beat of the music. Its color was white like moonlight, and the halo belonging to the moon lady appeared in this confined space through artificial imitation, shining in people’s eyes and faces. I used to dance around it in a pub. I held my hands up in the air, trying to simulate its shape, while my body shifted its steps around the cylindrical bars. The white light coalesced into a solid cylinder in the darkness, pure and simple, reflecting the smoke rising from the beams of light into a mesmerizing scene.
The girls still lifted their chins proudly, lifted their proud bodies and youthful capital, letting their beautiful young bodies wrapped in short thin dresses and skirts, waiting for a good price amidst the greedy gazes of the men. Yes, the price. Although realistic, you have to admit that they are very practical, the Pub is actually a free market for the purchase and sale of lust. There is a demand and there is a supply. Flesh and blood are traded for material goods, and ideal principles are traded for the ecstasy and joy of depravity.
Watching the psychedelic light echoing under the people’s faces and values distorted by the ecstasy of dancing and debauchery reminds me of the movie “City of Monsters” produced by Tsui Hark.
The demonic beasts in the movie “Beast City” produced by Tsui Hark said, “Demonic beasts are slaves to pleasure, while human beings are slaves to money.” I added, “Human beings are in the business of buying pleasure with money. I added, “What is the difference between human beings’ desire to buy pleasure with money (in the film, “pleasure” is materialized as a kind of drug favoured by the beasts, which is shipped from the space of the beasts to the earth, which is very mocking) and that of the beasts? In fact, I believe this is also the main point of the movie – human beings and demonic beasts are two sides of the same coin. The beasts in the movie eat people and drink their blood, and the female mole in the Special Attack Squad, who specializes in attacking the beasts, kills and sells her companions in exchange for money. She said her heartfelt words: “Humans and beasts have been killing each other for thousands of years, and it is not over yet, and it will never be over, she just wants to earn enough money to enjoy herself for the rest of her life. She just wants to make money and enjoy her life.” So when she reassures Jacky Cheung, a half-human, half-beast who is wrongly accused of being a traitor but is in fact loyal to her, that “time will tell”, this line of dialogue echoes with the later dialogues, which is very distinctive. At the end of the play, when Jacky Cheung joins forces with Leon Lai to kill the demonic clock beast, he indignantly blurts out, “Time doesn’t prove everything, because time is a human being’s decision too!” He is a half-human, half-beast who does not fit into the rules set by man, and it pains him to realize that time does not erase the prejudice of mankind against him, and that time does not prove anything. Only his lifelong friend Dawn had solemnly told him that he did not need the proof of time, for only he himself could prove himself! What an interestingly stark dialogue! The space of demonic beasts is gradually spreading in the sky of the city, and the era of demonic beasts coming to the earth is slowly approaching, but I am still indulging in sex, willing to be a dog and horse, have I also been poisoned by “happiness”? In the space of demonic beasts, “happiness” is a kind of drug that will make your whole body hot and evaporate once you stop taking it, and once you use it, you can’t get rid of it, and you will be addicted to it from now on. I don’t feel happy because I’m not easily satisfied or because I don’t know what satisfies me? And are you a human or a demonic beast or are you and I both half-human? Human beings are hypocritical and full of benevolence and morality, but in reality they are cold-blooded and realistic; demonic beasts eat people and drink blood, nakedly pursuing pleasure and indulging in lust, while human beings and demons look at each other unfavorably and don’t share the same fate. And there are also demonic beasts and human beings who feel that they should coexist peacefully because the earth’s energy will be exhausted, and human beings and demons should work hand in hand to stop abusing resources. Their conclusion is that only “love” can save the world, but the love in the show is still not completely full of flaws, so they have to wait for the next opportunity to come, just like me. Time? Oh, it’s been cut. Remember, time doesn’t prove everything.
This time thing is like a black and white movie with slowed down action and no sound or color. It reminds me of the only great bit of dialog in that one big bad movie, Robber Barons. In it, Kevin Costner plays an escaped convict who, while driving across the border on his way to die, says to the kid hostage taken by his kidnappers in his pickup truck, “You imagine this is a time machine, and we’re sitting inside a time machine.” Then Kevin turned around, still gripping the steering wheel with one hand, while with the other he pointed toward the road behind the vehicle and said, “Back there is the past.” Then he turned back to face the front and continued with a face full of new hope, “Up ahead is the future. And you, me, are living in the present!” Yes, everyone is not living in the past nor in the future; you and I are living in the present. It’s just that tomorrow’s coming can be a time of hope, and of course, disappointment. The past will never come back, leaving behind only some growing slogans and ragged steps.
It’s not easy to find a clock inside a pub. At least not in the one I came to today. Maybe the people who come here know that they don’t need any concept of time in here?
Across the street a girl with a face covered in thick white powder and red rouge was sneaking glances at me at three different times. Her eyes caught my attention and interrupted my slightly drunken thoughts. Maybe she recognizes me, maybe she’s interested in me, or maybe she’s trying to suggest that I go over to her and talk to her, but I’m just not feeling up to it right now.
I’m the same person I was one night when I suddenly couldn’t muster up the slightest interest in the hunt.
I remember that it was also a good night for the moon lady to show her face. Shing and I were sitting in a pub and we were just staring at each other with no words, not interested in picking up girls. Suddenly, I couldn’t stand up straight because I was looking at him and he was looking at me. Because I was looking at him and he was looking at me, both of them looked really funny. At the time, I laughed and called it playboy burnout. At that moment, a woman came in at the door who I knew well and he knew well, her name was Xiao Fang. Nineteen years old. And looked like she was twenty-five.
“I bet Fang is frigid.” At that moment I turned my head to Shing urgently.
“Don’t ask me, I don’t know.” Expression with a little helpless smile Ah Cheng shook his head and said.
“I think money is the only thing that will bring her to orgasm… roll up a thousand dollar bill into a tube… the more the better. The more hundreds of bills she can stuff in, and the more bills she has, the more pleasure she will have…” Ah Cheng looked a bit powerless after hearing this with an expression of holding back laughter, wanting to laugh but feeling that he shouldn’t.
To be honest, after playing for a long time, it is very easy to feel through the basic habits of the kind of women in the pub. Some women she does not ride in a million-dollar car, she will not feel the floating, late when the legs will be opened reluctantly. General rookie is even more difficult to imagine, lipstick lipstick looks brightly rubbed twenty-five-six women in fact, only fifteen or sixteen years of age, they are seriously materialistic, into the community to break into the early, there is nothing to hold on to in life. Only money can make them feel secure, only thick powder lipstick and perfume can cover their hearts for the beauty of the fast aging fear due to the lack of prostitution. The man’s prick, they have long since seen that they do not want to see again. That thing is just like the sweet words of love in men’s mouths, it’s just an impractical thing, not even a fart. It’s just a tool to play games with each other, and don’t the pussy girls in the pub need love? All women need love, it’s just that when women here talk about love, the calculations in their hearts and computers may be a little louder. Are they wrong? No, they’re not! They’re not wrong. What’s wrong is that I shouldn’t look at other people’s values through the lens of morality. After all, this is the age of “money is everything”. And I, for one, am probably only a minor accomplice. We are all high class fetishists, no one has to say anything about anyone.
Coil attached to the bib on the beam of light shining straight out suddenly transformed into hundreds of thin and dense light, adding to the illusion, let a person feel that the situation is even more unreal, such as a dream like a fantasy. As if the walls were pierced with hundreds of small holes, and the light from the holes piercing through the reflection of people’s eyes. The light hole wanders like a creeping crawler, the hole shot from the light group slowly wriggling, intertwined into a sheet of temptation of the spider web, and the master of the lust from the web of light slightly reveals it wrapped in the charming style under the ugly face, so that people can not see at a glance whether it is to give people the ultimate happiness of the Almighty God or abetting the soul of the Devil’s depravity of the Devil Satan.
But this is not important. What mattered was that the charming and beautiful butterflies of the night had long since fluttered up under the shimmering glimmer of the moon maiden’s light, wantonly indulging in the daintiness and beauty that belonged uniquely to night butterflies.
“Your heart never stops flying, your night never sleeps, you’re like a tireless butterfly in the neon rainbow, dancing wildly, deliberately burning all the greedy eyes, you give all your youth to the late night. …… “
Zhang Weijian’s love song quietly rings in my head, and I whisper it, dipping once again into deep memories, into that imaginary world that doesn’t belong to this unreal space.
Chapter 4 When the jollity is eroding …◎ Sound and color refers to all the feelings and temptations that come to the ears, eyes and senses. You can also summarize it by saying that life, in fact, is all about sound and color. I’m not sure if you’re a fan of this.
I watched the star of MTV on the big screen behind the speakers, open-mouthed, humming and singing a pop song that was drowned out by the thunderous dance music in the pub. The face on the screen suddenly big and small contraction and enlargement, I opened my eyes wide to see clearly that there is the Oriental Madonna known as a well-known Japanese actress. I heard that this woman is unrestrained, although she is already a married woman, motherhood, but in the United States when the record is still not forgetting to open the ocean halo, engage in extramarital affairs. I heard that her foreign lover also exposed the history of love to write an autobiography. On-screen MTV in her extreme flirtation with the MTV story, with the MTV story aside the use of lenses to peep at the male playmates masturbation, the overall image of the plot of the sultry temptation, the atmosphere of the obscene, really worthy of high-level worshipers of the Queen of Sex.
I seem to get the vibe of her personal fervor to worship money and glory. Has there been a Madonna in both the East and the West since then, a spokesperson for sensuality and eroticism? The concave and convex mirror of the media never reveals the original face of the truth, and what is left is only the beautiful face and image presented on the screen and in front of the public through the lenses of locking, enlarging, exaggerating, rendering and even embellishing, hiding the secrets between men and women behind the screen and underneath the cheongsam. In this era of knowledge like a dog, gold power, women sell their sex in exchange for benefits, and what should men sell to seek fame? Is it the youth that can never be returned, or is it the truth or even the dignity and principle in the classical poems that the poor can’t be moved, the mighty can’t be subdued, and the rich can’t be lusted after?
The significance of life is no longer the grandeur and rightfulness of creating the life that succeeds the universe, and the significance of life is no longer the emptiness of promoting the life of all human beings and striving for the rights and interests of the greater self. All that remains are the classes and positions that society has placed on people and which they cannot get rid of. And these invisible but in fact touchable and audible things, usually people only in their thirties and forties they suddenly realized, Ha, this is my life. Life has been finalized, dreams have long since gone up in smoke and ash, and there are no more dreams. All that remains is a little bit of excitement, a little bit of entertainment, and a little bit of life pressure, social pressure, and a fixed-as-a-rock, unchangeable routine that is too much for you to handle when you get up early in the morning.
I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my hands to temporarily escape from all the sound and light stimulation of my surroundings, unable to imagine myself in ten or twenty years’ time, struggling to make ends meet or under pressure. In half a year, I will end my career as a student and start another life that is completely disconnected from books. What will become of me when I enter the world? What do I want my future life to look like?
This game of fame and fortune, do not play into it? If you are famous, you are favorable, and if you are favorable, you will be famous easily. Everyone wants to compete in this game of fame and fortune for a piece of heaven. I began to tire tired, give up fame and renunciation of glory, this to chase the sound and color or plain satisfaction of happiness, I am willing to? Fame and fortune are privileges but they are also burdens. A Cheng said well: “public figures can not dare like us so free and unrestrained to go around picking up girls. TO BE FAMOUS? TO BE SOMETHING? FORGET IT!” The fun and happiness of life at hand, why should I let myself carry the yoke of fame and from now on not happy? Will I regret not having accomplished something at the end of my life? Or will I regret it at the halfway point of my life? Should I enter this game of fame and glory or not? Should I leave the meaning of my life to be judged by myself in ten or twenty years, or should I set a goal now and work hard with the pressure on my back?
Inexplicable worries and boredom is like a foggy mass of dry ice carbon dioxide sprayed out before the dance music started to let people can not see the fingers of the carbon dioxide endlessly to all directions, filling my chest also filled up every corner of the club dance floor tonight. It made me want to stand up and hiss hysterically and loudly, and to wail out the depression in my heart and the difficult feelings.
Several girls stood on the stage and swayed their bodies full of youthful charm. Their skin looked so smooth and taut and full of elasticity, and from their clothes and the childish look on their faces, they looked no more than sixteen or seventeen years old. Their movements seem to have endless energy and vitality, twisting their waist and tossing their heads, oblivious and absorbed.
Instead, I leaned my head gently and feebly against the gray and black bar, my mind racing with questions that were perhaps unanswerable. What kind of unknowable unknown brought me to this world so that I could feel all the joy, anger, sorrow and happiness, so that I could be angry, cry, laugh, sad and tired? I have never pondered such a question, perhaps because it is unanswerable and I am not willing to easily attribute it to the so-called creation of God. I don’t believe in God, so I can’t understand and accept the meaning of life that has been written in the holy scriptures or Buddhist scriptures, I can only feel, experience, struggle, and seek a narrow breathing space under the huge social mechanism, indulging in the sound and color of the ears, eyes and senses, and being willing to be the dog and horse of the seven passions and six desires.
Actually, life is sound and fury. Isn’t it?
When you are born, everything you see when you open your eyes is color. Everything within the range of sound waves that the ear can hear is sound. And what may not be seen or heard are the expectations and pressures that are placed on the individual by all. Sound and color, pressure and baggage, selfishness and fear, these are life?
All human beings are born unequal, but all are equally slaves to their desires. That is why everyone is a slave to the lusts and desires of the senses. Everyone must struggle, fear, fall or even advance in this so-called game of the Creator. Is this life?
My heart was in agony. My five senses began to distort abnormally not from pleasure but from pain as the alcohol in my body began to fester in this place of sound and fury.
“Heaven and earth are unkind and take all things as ruminants” an ancient Chinese saying rings in my head. And I have to live with it. What is good? What is evil? Everything is just an excuse for human beings to fight each other for survival and power. The books that I have been reading since I was a child are not the truth about human society, they are just words to make peace. The truth behind the media and appearances is that human nature is inherently evil, and that human beings are inherently selfish and self-interested. Is this human nature?
I just felt that I could no longer tolerate the louder and louder drumming and loud music in my eardrums. I just felt so frustrated, so powerless, and the life in my body was fading away little by little.
Don’t tell me I’m the one who’s drunk. No! My mind is very clear! On the contrary, I think my mind is getting clearer.
How many people chase after fame and fortune only to pursue more fame and fortune, more material enjoyment?
Apart from sex and pleasure, are there no other things worth pursuing, anesthetizing, and indulging in in this sea of life, this underworld of beings? Is the pursuit of sensual stimulation of sound and color the goal of happiness and life?
Sound and color is not a choice in the choice, no dream after the compromise, see the reality after the loss, see the truth after the addiction or enter the community before the green reserve of students in the heart of the confusion and struggle or social dye tank inside the frequent to the previous conscience and morality beckon, irresistible temptation and forbidden fruit?
It is. All of it.
All the information in the media repeatedly squeezes, squeezes, and drives people, including me, to pursue all the original, new, and exploding desires that are hard to satisfy. Humanity and life are distorted, pushed and driven to programs beyond one’s control, floating with the world. Everything begins to be derailed, deviated, deformed, curved and cracked with sound and color. After removing the layers of morality, rationality, and fashion, what is left inside the layers of wrapping but the bottomless black hole of desire?
The neon blinding lights in this square space still swirled and flashed in all their glory. And all I could feel was a dizziness before my eyes.
Is a man’s life after all just a slavery of dogs and horses to the senses of sound and color, to the seven passions and six desires?
Suddenly I didn’t think I could take it anymore. Unable to remember how I pushed my way through the crowd with its loud accents and blinding lights, I plopped down next to the toilet in the men’s restroom and began to vomit over and over. I threw up again and again. I emptied my belly with yellow soup, stomach juices, and all the miscellaneous stuff, along with my tears and snot. Again and again, my throat, stomach, and mouth uncontrollably repeated the sensations and movements of nausea, uploading, and vomiting. In the process of vomiting, I suddenly realized, slightly, that the entangled and intertwined lust and reason that existed in my body and mind were in fact two parts that were sometimes completely independent, yet inevitably intertwined with each other. They constitute me. While my body was continuously vomiting, my reason was looking at everything that was going on at this moment with a little bit of ridicule, but it inevitably hoped that “I” could quickly terminate such an action, so as not to vomit all over myself in a dirty, foul-smelling mess. But it can’t stop my action. Just like when I have sex with a girl, I realize that my other self, what people call my “soul”, will hide in the mirror or float on the ceiling to make a rational and cold observation, it can only watch with ridicule and disdain, but it does not necessarily have the courage and ability to stop what is going on underneath the ceiling. At best, my soul or what is called reason is just another silent accomplice of the erotic senses. Thinking about this, I naturally stopped vomiting. No reason, just suddenly stopped vomiting. I smoothly pulled down the grip on the side of the toilet lid to flush everything overboard.
Pushing open the door to the toilet cubicle. I walked over to the mirror and began to freshen up.
I looked at myself in the mirror. It was ridiculous and haggard. The redness around my eyes including the blood that was visible on the surface of my eyeballs looked like I had just cried, the bags under my eyes were even more puffy, and my nose was red. God knows if that just counted as crying. I reached out and touched the beard on my chin in the mirror, and the roots didn’t seem to be cleanly shaven sending a stinging pain through the palm of my hand. I pinched my face a few times with both hands as if trying to erase something perhaps those clear rationalizations with its slightly cold mocking mouth. I fixed my eyes on myself in the mirror again. I scrutinized it carefully. The pupils were still as deep as ever. High nose, pursed lips, and bearded eyebrows. That should have been a face full of vigor, with a kind of fearlessness, belonging to the unique youthfulness of the first-born calf, full of business, but now it seems to be only delayed obsessed with the pleasure of sound and sex, worldly sophistication, lost the innocence of young people should have and childishness. Those I regarded as childish, immature, clumsy and have long been abandoned by me. This may include the passion and perseverance to pursue certain things in life.
I bent down, turned on the faucet, and scooped up some water in my hands and splashed it on my face. Shaking it off with both hands, I smoothly drew a piece of tissue paper to dry my face and wipe my hands as well. Then I tossed the paper mache in my hand, and in a perfect arc, it landed in the unassuming trash can in the corner, as if I had discarded everything that I had decided no longer had any meaning for me and there was no need to keep it.
Push open the door of the men’s room, the sky running, colorful sound and light, sound and color, the smell of smoke and perfume once again to my face, that is how a kind of temptation and fascination network doomed my soul and spirit to be in the bones, soul, but not a trace of the ability to resist. I once again stepped into this nocturnal debauchery of the ten miles of ocean, or rather, I have never been out from just now to the present.
This kind of night, this kind of scene always makes me feel something great every time.
Looking at the stage and off-stage crazy confusion, song and dance, drunkenness, but often in my head is thinking, alas, the last century people’s degree of pleasure is this way. Think of the ancient city of Rome, which was buried by volcanic ash for 2,000 years. Wasn’t it the height of debauchery and extravagance before its complete collapse? This island of greed will sink at some point, because the originally beautiful and innocent Formosa can no longer carry the excessive desires of the people on the island, as well as the ugly roar of the deepest heart contained under the mask of pseudo-doctrinalism, which intersects and transforms into a civilized game in which the utilitarian people compete with each other, and play one against the other. In addition to the decadent, decadent, and fun filled room, the Chinese fighter jets at Fuzhou airport were about to drop a few more eggs, the taxi cabs all over Taipei were fighting at night, and teenage kids were racing around and cutting up people, which was exactly the tense atmosphere of the previous weeks, but I could only indulge myself in sex, and was willing to be a dog and horse and let myself powerlessly watch the island of greed drowning step by step in the Pacific Ocean, and I didn’t know what to do! …..
The intro to “Gangsta’s Paradise”, a low, depraved, turn-of-the-century, sinful and frenzied song, rang in my ears. The heavy metallic drums pulled me in.
“As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I take a look at my life and realize there “s nothing left.”
The track is full of powerless and helpless low riffs with a clear and crisp rhythm.
“”Cause I “ve been blasting and laughing so long that even mymomma thinks my mind has gone.””
I couldn’t help but be invigorated and gently let this dance song seduce my feet to the dance floor to smell the song.
“Been spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradiseBeen spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradiseKeep spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradiseKeep spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradise”
I closed my eyes and put my heart and soul into the depraved flavor of that last-century frenzy of sin, squeezing all the strength out of my body as hard as I could.
“Look at the situation they got me facingI can “t live a normal life, I was raised by the stateSo I gotta be down with the “hood team “hood team”
“Too much television watching, got me chasing dreams I’m an educated fool with money on my mind Got my ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye” “in my hand and a gleam in my eye”
The music was deafening in my ears, mind and heart.
“I “m living life, do or die, what can I say?” “I “m 23 now, but will I ever see 24?” “The way things is goin” I don “t know. I don “t know “
“Tell me why are we so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me.”
I clench my hands into fists and sway with all my heart and soul and forget about it. I listen truthfully to the voice of my heart. The low, heavy voice still keeps ringing in my ears.
“Power in the money, money in the powerMinute after minute, hour after hourEverybody “s running, but half of them ain “t lookin “It “s going on in the kitchen, but I don “t know what “s cookingThey say I “m running. “It “s going on in the kitchen, but I don “t know what “s cooking They say I gotta learn, but nobody “s here to teach me If they can “t understand it ## They say I gotta learn, but nobody’s here to teach me ## ## If they can’t understand it, how can they reach me? ## I guess they can’t, I guess they won’t ## I guess they can “t, I guess they won “t “
My fists opened abruptly, and I expanded my chest hard in the midst of the dance floor crowd as I angled my hands high in the air, after which I slowly withdrew them to cover my face. A vision came to my mind and I couldn’t make out the face of the person who was speaking to me in the shadow. He was humming a song. The vision in my head became clearer and clearer.
“Been spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradiseBeen spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradiseKeep spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradiseKeep spending most our lives living in the gangsta “s paradise”
“Tell me why are we so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me.”
In the midst of the black man’s tongue-twisting vocals, it was as if I saw a cynical punk standing in the streets of a degenerate night. As he walks through the streets of a city where the shadow of death hangs over him. He looks back at his life and suddenly he realizes that he hasn’t left anything behind in his life. He lamented that he had watched too many television programs that drove him, an educated fool, to blindly follow his so-called dreams. He said to me, “Wealth and power, power and wealth, every second, every hour, every day, people keep chasing these things without ever thinking or looking at them carefully. And I have to float with the world and follow everyone else in the chase.” As if he were complaining to me, “They say I still need to learn, but no one is here to tell me what to do. If they themselves don’t know or understand what kind of a situation this is, what kind of a society this is, how can they teach me what to do? I guess they don’t understand and they can’t teach me to understand at all.” “We have lived in this outlaw’s paradise from before to now, and we will in the future, and nothing will change.” He told me this unchanging truth with a face full of helplessness and a feeble increase in volume. Finally he turned around and walked away, muttering as he went, “Tell me why we are so blind, never able to see that the people we are hurting are actually us. Tell me why we are always so ignorant, never seeing clearly that the people we hurt are actually none other than ourselves. Tell me…” Looking at his gradually disappearing back, I was suddenly a little unclear whether the person who was gradually leaving was him or myself.
“Tell me why are we so blind to seeThat the ones we hurt are you and me ………. “
The groans of the high and low crowds of helpless and hopeless people at the end of the song remain intact.
● Chapter 5 ● When a human being suffers a moral collapse ●
All men are born unequal, but all are equally enslaved dogs and horses to the ears, the eyes, the senses, and the passions and desires.
Shing still hasn’t come back yet.
Having just danced a little bit inside the dance floor, I decided to go out and take a breath outside, escaping slightly from the acoustic and visual stimulation inside and giving my vocal senses a brief respite.
Passing through the doorway, I had the guards stamp an out-of-doors stamp on my right hand to make it easier for me to still come and go freely later. Pushing the door open there was an aroma of grilled meat. The scent came from the sausage and meat stall not far from the door.
I walked over to the stand and picked out a chicken drumstick, ready to fill my empty, drunken, vomiting stomach. Took the chicken thigh to the owner and told him I’d be back for it later. I found a seat on a motorcycle near the entrance of the stand.
The sky in Taipei is gray and misty, no stars can be seen in the metropolis, only the faintly haloed face of the moon lady is still half-hidden in the clouds.
Bright yellow taxis were parked in front of the club, waiting to bring in and out the men and women who were partying in the club. Other than that, there were very few cars on the wide road, since it was already the middle of the night. Instead, cars and motorcycles were parked on both sides of the road in front of the entrance.
At the entrance, there were some men and women who had just come out of the pub, either standing or sitting. I didn’t feel like browsing. I lit up a cigarette and thought about how I felt in the pub.
It’s anxiety about the blue blues of social life, I guess. Maybe it’s a sense of loss and annoyance about the future of life that is unique to a young man in his early twenties.
I think back to when I was a little sophomore at nineteen years old and the dreams and visions I had in my mind for the future at that time.
At that time, I was full of ambition and set my own ideals and blueprints for the future of my life, ambitiously identifying myself as an inhabitant of the global village. With the approval of my family and financial support, I became a student representative of my department and a leader of national college student activities, hoping that my experience as a leader of a good club would be more beneficial to my application for admission to a prestigious foreign institution after I finished my military service and went abroad to study. Two years ago, there was only one voice in my heart, “Everyone can only live once, I don’t want to live a mediocre life.” At that time I had a big question mark in my heart, “Where will I be in ten or twenty years?” At that time, I told myself, “When I am thirty-five or forty years old, I want to be the president of a multinational corporation in Taiwan or Asia.” What a beautiful dream! After that, I was very active in club activities, departmental activities, and inter-collegiate activities, actively striving for success, and winning awards from participants in various universities and colleges and competitions, and achieving the short-term goals that I had set out in my career plan. At that time, I was passionately pursuing success and confidently moving towards the long-term goals in my life plan. It was a self that I hardly know and do not recognize now.
I have been deliberately avoiding seriously to pursue, avoid seriously to think carefully to think, in the end what changed two years ago and I became today’s appearance, delayed obsessed with sound and sex, decadent debauchery.
The cigarette in my hand burned to the end and I lit another. I didn’t want to interrupt my contemplative thoughts.
I began to discover the reasons behind my love and lust. I was lost, because I realized that I could not find my way out of the world by studying hard and getting high grades; I was powerless, because I realized that the rules of the game in the sea of society were not something I could understand and apply when I was growing up; I was lustful, and I was indulgent, because I realized that I could not believe in the morals, manners and temptations that I was raised to believe in. I realized that my young self could no longer believe in the morals I had been raised to believe in and resist the temptations that lay beyond, and it wasn’t until tonight that I remembered how long ago I had convinced myself that I should not live up to the youthful exuberance of my youth, and that you only live once, don’t you? What was that forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden that made my teenage self consume it and develop a sinful knot in my heart that will never go away and take root? It turned me from youthfulness to sophistication and maturity. How did the serpent that tempted me to take the forbidden fruit lead a young boy to the door of paradise without thinking, naturally, and never to turn back?
Take off the coat of sound and color, after all, I’m just a fall into the mortal world, with the world of floating and sinking, but at the same time try to steer the direction of the rudder to find that he was just a powerless and incompetent to change the ruthless reality of the child, so I for the coat of sound and color always reluctant to give up, because it is anesthesia addicted to the best medicine, let a person enjoy the same time, but also forget the wrapped in the sugar coating of the venom under the slowly erode away the soul of a person. What use is the soul? What is the use of morality? What use are spiritual principles? Everything has been made into a fertilizer for the sex and the sex, is used as a nutrient for the fruit of lust, and buried in the soil of your competition, utilitarian reality.
I’ve been studying in the Department of Business Administration for so long, and it’s almost a few months before graduation. I realized that the dream and the blueprint of my life plan might just be a dream. A dream that I had been running and building with my own hands and that I might have ruined in my own hands.
Past honors and hopes do not give me a sure answer. It doesn’t tell me myself that your future will be one of prosperity and honor, bringing laughter and glory to your parents. Maybe all they ever wanted was for me to live a peaceful and happy life, and that was enough to make them feel satisfied and live up to their expectations.
Compared to the clouds of beings and elite talents in this great society, I am at best an ordinary, ordinary, mortal with real emotions and flesh and blood.
Or perhaps I have rediscovered a new way of living life. And people, at least as far as I am concerned, I don’t need or want to work hard for some achievements, some fame, some glory, and put too much pressure on myself to stick too closely to life. I just want to enjoy my own life peacefully, happily, easily and comfortably, to feel that kind of comfort and ease, do not need to care about other people’s eyes, do not need to conform to other people’s expectations of the way of life. For me, that is a relief, a nature.
I am not a saint, but I am not a sinner either. I am just a human being who has real flesh and blood, feelings and desires, and who dares to practice them honestly and admit them loudly and bravely. In the course of my life, I have been repeatedly thinking about the nature of society or the truth about life and society hidden behind the media from other people’s stories or real life. Unfortunately, the conclusion I got was disappointing. This is not a beautiful new world, and it is never mentioned in textbooks that human nature can be so selfish or sinister, that one can sell one’s soul, sell the interests of all, or do whatever it takes in order to achieve one’s own personal goals and interests, and that this is the truth and reality of society. Only fame and fortune, only after the media aura of molding and baking is something, only the rich and powerful is the character. Power monopolizes the truth and money acquires everything. In order to pursue success and the material enjoyment, wealth, honor and pleasure behind it, people pay the price of selling their spiritual principles, their moral conscience and even their bodies, just for money and power. I used to work so hard and passionately to pursue success and the fulfillment of all the desires behind it, and I tried to distort or change my spiritual principles to adapt to the new and different rules of the game of the so-called reality of this real society. It’s just that I’m tired.
I flicked my cigarette in passing into a puddle not far away, and the remnants of the spark, the faint glow from the butt of that cigarette briefly and brilliantly grazed the ground, popping out sparks before jumping up in a small circular curve, just in time to fall into the water and go out.
I was still sitting on the locomotive of an unknown person, and suddenly I remembered that a few days ago, I went to Hsinchu Park to visit the company, and the vice president on the stage reported the products and the company overview, and the slide show on the white screen full of foreign flavors kept changing the thoughts in my heart at that time, “If I could go abroad to wander in a foreign land, self-help travel, and enjoy the flavors of foreign cultures, how good it would feel! ” It would be a wonderful feeling to go on exile and enjoy your own life!
Suddenly, I felt a lot more relaxed when I thought about it. I strolled back to the entrance of the pub, and then I remembered that I had just bought a roasted chicken drumstick and hadn’t taken it out yet. After paying for the chicken leg, I went back to the seat of my motorcycle near the entrance of the pub and chomped on it, eating it with a great deal of gusto.
I was suddenly tapped on the shoulder. It turned out to be Shing coming back.
“Wow~~ It’s nice to have chicken legs, I want one too~” said Naru with a greedy look in his eyes.
“Do you want a bite?” I asked.
“Don’t! I’m going to buy my own.” He ran off in a huff to the barbecue stand to pick out his food and back again.
“Hey. What took you so long to send a girl home? I’m going crazy waiting for you inside!” I said in an accusatory manner.
“Hey. Not telling you. You won’t be playing by yourself until you can wait for me, yo!” He said with a secretive, toothy grin.
“Ugh. How boring to dance alone!” I replied. Then I left the locomotive and threw the finished food into the trash can not far away.
“I’m going in first, See you later.” I turned my head to tell Shing.
“Good.” He nodded. I knew he had to wait outside for the barbecue, so I went ahead.
Showing the guard at the door the store seal on my hand, he proceeded to push the door open for me. The sound and color mixed with the smell of wine and perfume came again, and it was still such a decadent and debauched place with the shadows of the people and the cups of incense.
This life of sound and color, this sea of dogs and horses. Can I sink into the pleasures of the ears, eyes, and senses and stop moving forward with my life? I remembered that the past few days of absurdity and playfulness had caused my grades to fall behind significantly, and there was even a danger that I would have to defer my fifth year of college, and that I would not receive enough credits.
Passing through the slow, zombie-like crowd of sound and color, I stepped onto the dance floor and closed my eyes to stop paying attention to the stylishly dressed, intertwined, gyrating, sexually suggestive couple next to me and the colorful, blinding laser light. When I’m by myself, I like to dance with my eyes closed, listen to the music, and think about things in the meantime.
I still have myself in my head, my past, my present, and my future.
Being away from home and studying abroad, living alone in a rented house was too much of a free and licentious life for me. My family’s generous financial support made me more generous in terms of money spending. And the free and open atmosphere of the university made me often skip classes and go to pubs at night and sleep during the day. But with a little bit of wisdom and the exams I have taken since childhood, I was able to drive all night and study all night before the exams, and I was able to make it to my senior year of college without a hitch.
In fact, I am very capricious, since childhood, the rebellious character seems to have been hidden in the study, silent behind the image of a good boy until the university only step by step outbreak. Freshman year into the university, everything is very fresh, play clubs also make girlfriends. Nineteen years old sophomore year, I was shocked to realize that life can not be squandered, do not want to pass through the ordinary life, I actively and enthusiastically participate in a variety of activities, step by step in accordance with their own career plan as a number of national tertiary institutions inter-collegiate activities leaders and departmental student representative title, during the period of time in order to sharpen their ability to participate in a number of large-scale inter-collegiate activities, but also to hold all the honors and return. At that time, I was so spirited and glowing. To the second semester of my junior year of college, all the important activities are done, the position of the club leader handed over, life suddenly lost focus, I began to be obsessed with the Internet this virtual computer interpersonal space as well as the sound of sex, sinking fascinating Pub Disco, from then on life began to detach from the normal work and rest of the average student, day and night, morning and night. Paradoxically, I even wrote an article in the China Times about the harmful effects of “Internet Addiction Disorder”, that is, it makes one’s academic performance deteriorate and makes one’s addiction difficult to extricate itself.
At that thought, I opened my eyes and shook my head at the swaying music, the bright lights, and the shadows on the dance floor. A deep sense of guilt and shame accompanied by the fear behind the pressure hit me, and suddenly all I wanted to do was to escape from this depraved space of sound and color as soon as possible, to stop myself from sinking uncontrollably into the world of sensuality.
If Faustus had had the experience of falling into sensuality before he sold his soul to the devil, would he have decided to sell his soul to the devil at the moment of Satan’s arrival before the bell rang? In Dante’s Divine Comedy, only those who have passed through the layers of the spiritual principles of the fallen hell are qualified to go to heaven, because only after the constant struggles, frustrations, trials, and torments can the soul appear to be more robust and full of strong will. After all these trials, am I still just a loser who is unable to resist the devil and escape from the sinking hell? If the comfort and status quo in front of me is destined to doom me to survive or even regress under the mechanism of social selection, survival of the strong and the weak, and then life stops moving forward and only backward, then I am still willing to let myself sink endlessly? In the final analysis, this is just a struggle between myself and myself, between my sensual desires and my rational conscience, which will continue to occur in the future, only that the final decision is still in my own hands. If I decide to run away and give in to the pressure of reality for the time being because I am afraid of the collapse of the real world structure of life, then I am still a coward who lacks a strong will to live. If I would choose to escape or give in, I would rather tell myself that I am not willing to stop advancing in life at this moment, and that there are still a lot of beautiful things waiting for me to go to take the antagonist in front of my life. Thinking of this, my heart has finally made up its mind.
As I was about to leave and push open the door of the pub, I bumped into Shing who was coming in from the barbecue.
“I want to go.” I said to him as I stood in the doorway.
“So early?” He looked at my expression and then said, “In a bad mood?”
“Hmm. Something to think about.” I replied.
“Uh-huh. Come along then.”
We got into Shing’s car. The traffic at the gate was never interrupted. Yueh-Liang’s slightly dazed face slowly showed fatigue as she gradually moved towards the hills to the west, and it was time for her to rest and go to bed.
When I got into the car, I was still thinking quietly. Shing drove me back to the neighboring school.
In the days of this sound and color, I detached from the normal track of the general student life, I walked into the adult world of the so-called real society. I am in the red world inside the pursuit of pleasure, in the quagmire of lust and sensuality, sinking and rolling. My living habits, thinking habits, working habits out of the general track, become less like the general student thinking logic. However, I do not regret that I have gone so far. On the contrary, I am very glad that I have always maintained the normal operation of a trace of clear rationality in my mind, and I have not been unable to turn back from my GOES TOO FAR and indulge in it ever since. Even for some aspects of life and society I have a deeper understanding and feelings, the future of life is still in my own hands. The past is gone, the future can be pursued. And I am still young, is not it?
The glimmer of dawn emerges unobtrusively from the distant hills and instantly fills the sky. The darkness faded, and the dizzying, disoriented Moon Maiden slipped away to the other side of the globe, waiting for another time to fall with the darkness. Day, at last, reigned supreme over the whole earth.