DAY 04 (12.05.2026)

(Cristina)

第三天在凯法利尼亚，热，到处都是不知道名字的盛开的花，很多蜥蜴，很多猫，还有汪汪叫的狗，还有蛇。车很忙碌，很快，路不宽，几乎看不到走路的人。作为一个外来者，想要挤出一些微笑表达友好，可能别人读不到这是微笑，恐怕笑看起来像怪物，真想找个镜子默默地看着自己。

第三天，皮肤开始灼伤，我喜欢也熟悉这种感觉。在烫得快冒烟的柏油马路上，汽车尾气伴随着鸟叫声，有时候甚至是燕子的叫声，舒服。

可能是我真的想家了，一个很久很久没回去，也不可能再回去的“家”。那个童年里长着半人高的芦苇，各种紫茄子、麻桑、麻雀菜的地方。我居然在希腊的岛上，看到了很多相似的野草、野花、鸟，野菜也都这么熟悉。也许是我的记忆出现了偏差。我不知道。

艺术？对，我是来创作的。什么是创作，一个叫地衣也叫 lichen 的东西吗？我说我在老家的前院看到了很多黑色的、白色的，可能还有绿色的地衣，这个岛上也有。我是真的看到过吗？记忆开始模糊。

我说，不要把我的情绪投射到别的物质上。可我在炎热的街上行走，鞋底快要融化的时候，瞥见昨天雨后还大片大片、厚厚的橙色 lichen，今天也在一点点消融。我们是一起的。

又能如何不共情、不投射？没有希望，没有恐惧，找到自由，空无一物，那人性呢？人呢？性呢？呢？？

不管怎样，whatever，喜欢在阴凉下，清凉的风吹过干燥的皮肤带来的一丝凉意。喜欢拓印 lichen，又看不见它。但是它和我在阴凉下一起舞动的下午，就像每年五月份从地里收割完小麦后，坐在大枣树下吃着两毛一块没有奶油、汤汤滴水的冰棍。

On the fourth day in Kefalonia, hot, many blooming flowers I don’t know the name of, many lizards, many cats, dogs barking,and snacks. The cars are busy, fast, the roads are narrow, and I can hardly see anyone walking. As an outsider, I want to squeeze out some kind of smile, but maybe people cannot read it as a smile, maybe my smile looks like a monster. I want to find a mirror.

The fourth day, my skin starts to burn. I like and am also familiar with this feeling. On the asphalt road so hot it almost starts smoking, car exhaust accompanied by birdsong, sometimes even the sound of swallows. Comfortable.

Maybe I really miss home, a “home” I have not returned to for a long, long time, and maybe can never return to. That place in my childhood where reeds grew half as tall as a person, where there were purple eggplants, masang, maque cai. I actually saw so many similar wild grasses, wild flowers, birds, and even wild vegetables on this Greek island, all so familiar. Maybe my memory has gone wrong. I don’t know.

Art? Right, I came here for art. What is art, a thing called Diyi, also called lichen? I said I saw many black ones, white ones, maybe also green lichens in the front yard of my old home, and this island has them too. Did I really see them before? Memory starts to blur.

I said, don’t project my emotions and experiences onto others. But when I was walking on the hot street, when the soles of my shoes were almost melting, I caught sight of the orange lichen that was still spreading in large, thick patches after yesterday’s rain, and today it is also slowly dissolving, little by little. We are together.

Then how can one not empathize, not project? No hope, no fear, then freedom, nothing of everything, then what about humanity? What about humans? What about sex? What about “about”? and “?”

Anyway, whatever, I like being in the shade, the slight coolness brought by the cool wind passing over dry skin. I like rubbing lichen, and still not being able to see it. But it and I, in the shade, dancing together in the afternoon, just like every May after the wheat was harvested from the fields, sitting under the big jujube tree eating a two-mao ice pop, no cream, watery and dripping.