It’s not the moon what lights up my room anymore, but other gleams escaped from insomniac windows.
It’s not the cow’s bells what I hear when I listen to the outside, but the snoring of the cars, always deep, always regular.
It’s not the wood and the peacefulness of the countryside what I find when I run away, but other streets, other roads and other houses piled up along the sidewalks.
It’s not the colour of the sky what I sight through the window, but the walls of another building, so close.
It’s not my town in its green setting, but the capital of this country that lives during the night.
These are not the places of my childhood, but an amount of surprises with every step I take.
These are not predictable days and blind ways, but changes and discoveries in their thousands.
It’s here and not there anymore.
It is now and not before.
“There” has become “here” for me.
And it’s now when the present time is blooming.
February 2014
赶紧投票吧！ 