看了妈妈摘抄的日记片段，觉得自己的日记总是那么食之无味，所以才总会写写删删。
看了别人的作业，也觉得自己的作业那么弃之不惜，所以总是下了笔又重写最后时间不够只好交上一份不完美的篇幅。
我的人生总是这么不完美，因此也不得很完整。话说什么样的人生是完整的呢?
写完规划的manifesto我要写一份自己人生的manifesto。所以，它也会不完美吗?这样不完美的我又敢不敢向别人展示呢?
The moment when, after many years
of harde work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,
is the same moment the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliff fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can’t breathe.
No, they whisper, You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way around.
UNI-VERSE 