Singing Snowberg
Chapter Two
Morph <5>
Chros©
I forgot I have music! The cleaning is not arduous when I have them, but it still makes me feel stupid. From time to time I have to close my player and listen to the talkings of people. Sometimes some places could be crowded, especially around the meeting sectors, when they were off, people rushing outside, and I’ll just go into these smelly rooms, find some spots to clean, empty the ashcans. Almost midday, a meeting room released a bunch of Asian, I paused my player and listened carefully. Now I’m examining every passing face, trying my best to be careless. Maybe they’re Japanese, I am about to give up, but suddenly I see a familiar one. She’s Sunder, carved from a same mould with that woman in Uyuni!
“Sunder! Nietzsche! Are you her from China?” She’s scared of my sudden call, while trying to make a smile. “Sorry? What’s up?” “You! Ni-hao?” “I’m afraid you’re mistaken me with someone else.” “No you’re in my dream and you just looked like this, you, looked like you.” I can’t suppress my excitement, not aware of this might be a coincidence, but how could I dreamt her beforehand? Unless, unless we’ve met on the boat.
She offered me a bottle of juice. “My name is Sunder but I’m a Japanese. How did you know that? In your dream?” I really want to take her hand and fly into my dreams, right now! “Yes! How could I show you?” I’m so eager to show her all that.
“You know: it’s good that I am in your dream, I believe it’s not a coincidence, somehow we’ve met in some ways. There are possibilities.” This is Sunder, this is how she would say! I look at her, my heat is boiling inside, this is not desire, but pure excitement!
“Do you smoke?” She handed me a cigarette, I refused.
I want to search her face to find some differences because this is also surreal for me, but it’s rude and I’m sure this is reality. So I asked, “it’s so good to meet you, are we friends now? Be my friends.” I really can’t tell if this is the front part of a dream with Morph, I can’t control my body and what I say! “Of course we are, from now.” Perhaps she said it out of politeness, but I don’t feel sad.
She is a secretary for an international company, usually do paperwork.
“They are all jerks.” I said.
“Why?” “Make us living in the gutter.” I wanted to say “little pods” instead. She’s impressed, “gutter. Good words. Never heard someone used it.”
“Do you want music?”
We are sitting in the corner, the sun stays exactly where is visible to us both, I like sunshine. When the melody flows on and on, I hear she says, “I miss home.” If this place is Uyuni I wouldn’t believe this is from her mouth, now I can tell the difference between her and the one in Uyuni. Thinking of this, I wonder whether Nietzsche miss her home.
“Look at that!” Can’t wait for me to open my eyes, I heard her saying this.
We’re back to the frost forest in Uyuni. I see the blue deer again. She starts to walk again, we’re following.
“What are the differences between walking in a forest and walking in this universe? Will she meet another same one if she could transcend through time and space?”
“A deer walking in the forest is walking in this universe, a deer walking in this universe is walking in the forest.” Sunder is talking to herself. She didn’t answer her second question, in my opinion she will encounter someone just like her. I have to say, she and Rosa share the same kind of magic, Rosa used it in her words, she uses it in her poems. All the same. Now I knew what’ve been supporting me this long way, that I found a substitute of Rosa, first in dream, second in reality. Suddenly I feel like the most beloved one in this cold world. In dream, I suppose, it’s real that a heart seeks salvation itself, and waiting for a real real salvation. Perhaps this is how we cope with reality. But what about after the real real salvation’s arrival? Then we abandon the former one? That’s why she’s crying after she answered her own questions?
This feeling is unusually complicated, and I’m surprised to find out I realised that, how would I care to know what she thinks. I was a jerk, maybe those memories are complaining why I left them, discarded them to live with trashes.
“I met another Sunder in reality,” suppose to let out is a good way to expel the bad feelings I possess right now, I am the jerk. “She will be a good girl.” Will be? What does she mean?
The blue deer is no longer visible, I hope I’ll see her again.
“Come with me.” She holds my hands, we are in the air, the red umbrella is waiting at the tree top. Several minutes later we’re above the lake. “It is worth a celebration!” She said as she tossed her umbrella like she did it last time, we fall to the mirror instantly. She’s so happy, that I reckon it’s true happiness. “Don’t forget me, and this beautiful place.” The next moment I feel the familiar burn, she became that threads of sunlight between the clouds. I crashed into the mirror, the next moment I’m in the bamboo raft, I’m back to the Lake of a Thousand Hearts. I can’t see the border of this lake, many islands in the water, most of them are mountains, these are the hearts. The sunlight on my skin doesn’t change, but I’m alone again in this dream. Behind this background of green, I see some vague visions of past memories, extremely unclear, what only clear is: I was alone. Thousands of nights before, my short life, now it’s clear enough for me, maybe what I need to know is the state of loneliness, the coldness around me, around my insensible heart. I miss the frost forest instantly. If the coldness is what I have to go through, then I just went through it, as a bad boy. The reason of my unawares is still unclear, I hope someday I’ll tell someone I miss home.
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