Finding an ensemble of words to give form, thickness and density to flickering thoughts and fleeting sentiments is Ryan Chung‘s persistent experiment in his “let the mind speak” series — speaking for its own sake, this time, “loneliness” must imprint its presence… What is the vocabulary of our own loneliness? 表述是為了堅守表述自由的維度。孤單是怎樣的？孤單的語彙是怎樣的？說了就是。鍾樹仁的思維自說自話。
Loneliness is a cry for nothing / Ryan Chung
Little has been told about a boy whose soul has been stolen by the world in which he fights to survive. Every day is a battle even when he lets his guard down. Does it matter how he feels if one’s life is on the line?
Oh, how he missed this feeling. One night, he was engulfed by a polarising desire that went on unnoticed for quite some time; a desire caged by the walls built around it, like scabs formed around a wound, only they grew thicker and thicker, covering the flesh repaired merely on the surface. It is a desire that has the power to build you up and tear you down.
One day, he gathered the courage to climb out of the burrow where he had hidden himself, into the open field where he would find opportunities of human connections. He treaded along a path in search of just another soul for whom he had only the slightest idea what it might look like. Then he tripped. Upon falling onto the moist soil, he was cocooned by the coldness of earth. He turned over and laid on his back. It was daytime only a second ago though now the bright visible stars were singing into his ears…
/ Loneliness is like a puff of smoke.
It dissipates into the air.
It is only ephemeral.
It enters your lung, leaving scars unaware of.
For a moment, it spreads and shields your vision a little.
God knows why, but it gives you perspectives.
Loneliness is like a balloon once held tight,
let go and it gets blown away.
It earns you the feeling of longing.
It is like looking at the stars that are dancing above you.
It grounds you beneath the sky amongst your footprints,
You, slowly feeling desperate for what is more than a nourishment.
It is like a mirror from which you saw what you have tamed inside you:
The fear of letting go –
the price you pay for imprisoning the proof of the very existence of yourself once lived beautifully,
without his touch,
his feeling of your face,
your skin in the present,
that is forever lost in time. /
He closed his eyes and thought to himself, “a price you pay for imprisoning the proof of yourself once lived beautifully… in a world that bears the weight of oh so many people. These people have found each other, yet no one has found me…”
**feature image: fabricated by Linda Lai with found images in response to the author’s sharing.