Last night, Idreamed many dreams at once. Each dream look like a shredof paper after that paper had been through a shredder.Thousands of shreds were all tangled up ineach other like two dimensional spaghetti. Like Bob Dylan’s hair in that classicMilton Glaser print. Strands upon strandslike old stuffing in my mind. But fortunately I had the ability to see this entanglement, this too-many-thoughts-at-oncechallenge before me. And it was as if I had said, “one dream at a time please,”as all of a sudden all of the shreds formed a single line, and all that therewas before me became one single strip ofpaper, one story to be told, one path to be walked, one dream to be lived.
昨晚,我一下子做了好多梦。每一场梦境都好似被碎纸机绞过的一片纸。成千上万纸的碎片像意大利面或者Bob Dylan(美民谣歌手)的头发或者MiltonGlaser(美设计师)的作品一样纠缠在一起,仿佛老旧的填充物般在我脑海中牵扯出一条一条丝线。但当我看清楚这面纷乱思绪绕结而成的网后,好像轻声祷告,瞬间所有线条都化作一条直线,所有碎片都化作一条长长的纸,一个长长的故事,一条长长的路,一场梦想中的人生。
昨晚,我一下子做了好多梦。每一场梦境都好似被碎纸机绞过的一片纸。成千上万纸的碎片像意大利面或者Bob Dylan(美民谣歌手)的头发或者MiltonGlaser(美设计师)的作品一样纠缠在一起,仿佛老旧的填充物般在我脑海中牵扯出一条一条丝线。但当我看清楚这面纷乱思绪绕结而成的网后,好像轻声祷告,瞬间所有线条都化作一条直线,所有碎片都化作一条长长的纸,一个长长的故事,一条长长的路,一场梦想中的人生。