FullMoon Archive: 五月滿月 · 過度 May . Excess
Taipei 10:47 PM
愛滿出來我會死掉嗎
愛很多。
從小外公婆就給我滿滿的愛
阿姨舅舅們給我滿滿的愛
爸爸媽媽不在身邊
好像我就是外公婆的’小孩‘
阿姨舅舅們的’小妹‘
如此隱形的被各方之愛灌滿的感覺籠罩著持續漫延直到現在三十多載的我的身上
一場離別 我想溢出來的不是想念
是無可比擬的愛
我知道 我就是那個萬中選一滿出來的小仔
兔崽也是嗎？
我們只想告訴你我們很愛你
不到一個小時的時間
你就已不在我們的世界
這個我們笑著稱為家庭(豈止多元)的世界
我總覺得你會回來
不知道以什麼形式讓我知道
但我就是知道你會像往常黏著我的腳後跟那般 回來
然後我會好好跟你說再見
也許因為你走得太快
但更多的原因
是我們非常愛你
So we dare to let u go.
:’( 你那裡看得到月亮嗎？
很圓
走好
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花蓮 11:50 PM
2029會有四名太空人移動到月球的南極尋找水
如今ai也許可以透過螢幕解放人的容貌焦慮
如果原民會的主委可以改成族人直選
今天花蓮的天空飛機不要一直飛
如果有一個節日讓我們彼此都安靜一些
其實電視跟手機可以暫時睡眠
大腦的腦腐也許可以減緩許多
身體給了我許多訊息
每一次我都來不及解讀完
他就運作完了一個階段
好像我們的社會一般
我只是閉上眼一天
打開連結就是新的局面
再怎麼追
本來無一物
輪胎
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London. 5:09 PM
My nightmares are all the same now. Every morning when I wake up I need to spend all the time I have to peace myself. Especially today. And I need to be shut up.
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台灣. 1:37 AM
我在做身體的研究，因為很想要找到語言，知道自己為什麼這麼迫切的需要回到身體，但是當我發現似乎看見一個完整的我想抵達的語言就在眼前，我卻開始感到空虛。
/
馬賽爾的劇本 ［破碎的世界］
那個溢於腦袋中過分閃耀的視野，讓我很想找到一些黑暗的、混沌的去平衡。真是矛盾的一個我。
謝謝這個滿月
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Taipei 8:15 PM
過剩，凝滯，捨得，流動，專注同時照看萬物。
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Berlin 11:21 AM
Day 15: It's been almost two weeks and I've been waiting to see if my hormones would fluctuate, and my opinion would change, but my verdict still stands! I never thought this would be FUN. People talk about love, exhaustion, wonder, depression, monotony, even joy.. but not fun! Which is very distinct to me.
Sometimes I'm tired during the night feeds and diaper changes, but tired in the way that one is tired but enjoying it and choosing it: going to a late party, or waking up in the middle of the night to sneak in computer time (hello neopet flashbacks, because that's essentially what she is. A pet that we're keeping alive by doing a series of tasks). A DIY Tamagochi.
I suspect that my body is in tune with hers, and I often wake up at the end of a sleep cycle, around when she needs to be fed. I seldom feel yanked out of sleep as one would by an alarm clock. I'm surfing on a new kind of rhythm.
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Berlin 11:49 AM
My breasts are leaking a lot these days. I feel the weight of the milk when I walk, when I turn on my side and feel the pressure in my breast press against the bed. Sometimes they feel like they could burst. I can almost anticipate her hunger by how full my breasts are. She chokes and coughs a little sometimes when she feeds, unable to control her drinking volume. "Breathe.. Swallow.. Breathe.."
When she's too sleepy to latch properly, my milk drips ceaselessly as I try to wipe the bed dry and latch her at the same time. Someone told me that breasts leak milk when the baby cries, as some kind of anticipatory measure to soothe the baby.
Sometimes I feel like my breasts is the part of me that's most in tune to her, some kind of milk machine mediator.
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Taiwan,Tainan 9:55 PM
姪女的出生到成長，四個多月的期間，我經歷了以家人視角看孩子長大的過程，偶爾的探望和陪伴，總充滿驚喜。我是姑姑角色，也是愛孩子的人。
喜歡小小生命和我對視的笑容，喜歡小小的臉頰靠在身上的安穩。喜歡發現我的表情、動作和聲音在牽引著這小小生命。
感謝以這旁觀又親近的“姑職”角色觀察姪女，也觀察我自己內心！原來我也好需要這種貼近彼此的安全感、安心感。小小心臟跳動的生命力感染我。想來都還是喜悅。
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Taiwan 1:29 PM
滿，發生在邊界之後
不是完成
而是溢出
沒有聲音
只是位置被佔滿
多出來的部分
暫時沒有用途
留，會累積
分，會稀釋
放著，則持續存在
選擇本身
不改變性質
有用與無用
依附於觀看
因此反覆變動
缺乏仍在
過剩同時成立
彼此無法抵消
像水越過容器
卻不進入需要之處
那麼
這些無處安放的部分
是否只是
尚未被命名
或已失去對應
在接近完全之後
«««««««««<,,,,,,,……»»»»»> ————————-
Kirchroth，Germany 2:22 PM
坐在巴伐利亞深處的一個小鎮教堂，無論是周圍的方言或宗教語言都讓我陌生疏離，但二樓阿姨大叔合唱團倒是頗為親切。一群八，九歲的孩子，盛裝坐等人生第一次的聖餐禮，原來那也可以是個長大的階段。思緒飄盪中，想起兩個死去的至親，原來，死亡不是喪禮前後的死去活來，而是餘生不斷的迴繞。教堂樂隊的吉他手讓我想起家族裡最小的弟弟暐，24歲就擅自決定從人間下車，我當年為什麼沒有接住你，你的耶穌沒有接住你，你的海軍軍服也沒有。眼神隨意一瞥，一個白髮的Polo 杉大叔背影，頗像我晚年忽然信教的爸爸，癌末臨終彌留時，我想他應該不會想到上帝。而一旁坐不住的五歲女兒，用全教堂只有我能聽懂的語言，大聲問著：「媽媽，肚子餓了，我們可以走了嗎？」
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高雄 9:27 PM
男友在香港監獄，一直不寫信給我，好想他
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Berlin 8:44 PM
Something has reached a threshold—an overflow. An impossibility of sleep.
Lying in bed for an hour, holding hands for an hour without falling asleep—it creates a certain tension, and I’m not sure why.
My head feels hard, dense. I wish for something to be still, to stop moving. At the same time, I know I need movement inside my head.
Now I’m typing, while disregarding putting my child to sleep when he needs it most.
Is mothering a job I can log into—and then log out of? Is that even possible?
What makes it feel like a job?
The repetition? The inescapable demands?
All these metaphors of labor, rooted in industrial time.
I can’t even turn my head to look at this child, waiting for his mother—for something unnamed. I’m afraid that if I do, my first words will be judgment, or something sharp, something that wounds, because this threshold has been crossed.
Maybe writing helps me settle, just a little.
The daylight stretches longer now—a greyish brightness that keeps us awake. The body is under attack from allergies, attacked by its own systems of defense. A defense against a kind of love we don’t want to give—one without sensing, only behavior.
And still, I can’t move past it.
Now, with the strength of the moon, I will try again—
to take up the work of care.
