好久都没有写东西，或者说，我总是顾得了这头顾不了另一头。
还是留下一些笔迹之类的东西吧，可以告诉大家我还健在着。
寒假回北方，习惯了南方的小风，到了北方被像刀子一样的寒风割得很难受。
讨厌南方总是潮湿的空气，却忘记了北方干燥的空气更令人不舒服。
趴在窗户上看玻璃上的窗花，很漂亮，南方很少见，于是拿相机拍了很多。
家里的雪像是无穷无尽，而在南方则总是要期盼和等待。
好像不习惯喝家里的水了，好像不习惯家乡的天气了，更好像不熟悉老家的那些人了。
似乎这一切都是那样陌生，甚至和自己没有关系，更好像自己只是一个匆匆过客，对于家的匆匆过客。
于是，又回来了。
离开的时候，想了又想，觉得还是家里温暖，可是车票都已买好，还是得出发……
拥抱的时候，忍了又忍，泪水终于在眼眶里打转转，急忙转过头，冲上车……
挥手的时候，哭了又哭，想冲下车，却又无能为力……
回来了，就得奋斗。
离开了，就得坚强。
Hello darkness my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence
“Fools” said I “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grow
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said “The words of the prophets are written on subway walls
And tenement halls
And whisper’d in the sounds of silence
