|
|
I am a robot, living in a nonstop train. It is cold here, I am supposed not to have feelings, but I did, I still feel cold, I cannot stop trembling. I do not know who create me and why, I was born to have no tears. My master must be a genius with a broken heart, I always guess.
I do not know how long I have lived in this cold compartment; I do not know where I am going to, what the terminus is; I do not know what the date is outside, I have not seen the outside world even once, I was born here and I guess I will die here, in this narrow and dark compartment. I am not afraid, just confused. Outside the widow, there are uncountable tracks; I have no idea what direction they are leading to. They just twist and intertwine. I see other trains coming and going, I also do not know their destinations. Have I even thought about going out of the train? No, I do not belong to the world outside. Sometimes I do feel tired and get bored for living in one place more than twenty years, however, it is the only world which belongs to me and which I belong to. I have too much affection on this train, on this narrow dark compartment; it is my entire life and maybe afterlife. Everyday I just sit by the window, looking outside although there is no view, and watch other passengers come and go.
Of course there are other passengers. I do not know where they are from and going to. I can only see without talking; if I can I will not speak to them. I recognize there are homeless people, artists, novelists, drug takers among them. They do not talk to each other, I am sure it is not for the train’s sake which makes them loss the ability to talk, it is their past, and it is their stories and histories. Although I am not sure why they chose to take this train, I can figure out they all share some similarities: they all have secrets and mysteries; they all have something they cannot or do not want to share with others. Most time, they just sit all day looking outside as I do, or keep crying. I do not know how it feels when crying and what the taste and temperature of tears. I want to ask them but I do not want to interrupt them when they are crying. They never hide their tears; I see their chins and collars sometimes the whole clothes wet. I eagle to make sense about the reason behind their tears, do they remember something, or blame something or something hurts their hearts, or they are just releasing, or there are nothings at all. What I am quite certain about is they are suffering from while also enjoying the cold atmospheres. They are folding themselves with their arms tightly, they never try to wear more or get any warm from other passengers. They are mysterious animals, mysteries human beings, unlike me.
Sometimes when I get really bored, I hang around to another compartment. Every compartment has its different lights. The one I usually stay is purple, and most time I would like to take a walk to the dark blue one. I saw a passenger leave the words “the big blue” on the wall of the blue compartment one day. From then on, I suppose there is something in the outside world called big blue which has the same color as this compartment. I am so addicted to dark blue, course every time I sit there, when the train pass through other tracks, there are shadows flash away, it seems the whole compartment is under deep water especially when it is extreme cold. I do think move to this compartment, but I give up this idea course I know only when I am in the purple one, I can feel peace and quiet, and also because there are more passengers there; but in the blue one, I am with myself most of the time, I feel lonely and lost.
I remember there was one passenger; he always sat next to me and watched me whole day without saying anything. I was sure he wanted to say something. He was so beautiful but seemed in sorrow and pain, it was the only once I felt I wanted to know someone’s history. There should be long stories behind his cold face. He stared at me most time. One day, he cried badly and hold me tightly and said he wanted to get out with me, he wanted to take me to his hometown where have hills and fields and warm sunshine. I cannot make any sense about his words. However I guess it must be beautiful because when he talking, I saw he smile, and I saw hope in his eyes behind tears. I want to say yes but I am so scared and worried, and… and I cannot talk or make any expression on my face, I almost forgot I was just a cold-blood and emotionless robot which has no feelings at all. Then, one day he gave me a kiss and disappeared. I do not know whether he left the train, actually, I do not think so, course the train never stops. What I am sure is I never see him again. Sometimes I miss him and the warm sunshine he talked about especially during the night.
Every time when I am too tired, I begin to think about whom I am and why I am on the train and where is my destination. Then I always fall into deep sorrow, course I never get any answers. One night when I was totally frozen, I decided to stand up and took a walk, I saw one young lady, and she was elegant. She was in a white robe sitting in a corner in the green compartment, like a deer in the forest. I remember she was smoking and laughing which impressed me a lot. I walked to her and suddenly held her in my arms; I did not know for what purpose I got this reaction. She picked up her head and looked at me; she touched my face with her icy fingers and kissed on my chin. I will never forget this kiss since it was so cold and hopeless. She told me she knew I was not one of the passengers the moment she saw me, I was a part of the train, like any of the chairs, tables and widows around us. She said to me the moment I leave this train, I will die, and the train was my beginning, my terminus, my destination, everything in my life and even my entire life itself. She told me she loved me so much, she wanted to hold me to the terminus. But where is the terminus, is there ever something called terminus in my life or in her life? Her words are so convincing; I am so sure about that although I do not know why. After that night, I never see her again, she also disappears, just like that man.
This is my story. I am a robot in a nonstop train. I still sit by the window every day, looking outside aimlessly. I witness strangers appear and disappear. The difference is I no longer think about myself, maybe I completely accept what the lady told me, maybe I just give up, course I know it is a waster of time. I am just an emotionless robot in a dark and narrow compartment. |
|
发表于 2008-10-7 20:36:31
发表于 2008-10-7 22:32:03
发表于 2008-10-8 00:34:25
