When I heard the radio playing Cheer Chen’s Go to England Next Week one morning, even surrounded by the noisy environment, my thoughts fell into the past at once.
I remember the only time you mentioned her song Coffee Shop in Jiufen. The lyrics of these two songs, if listen carefully, tell the melancholy brought by changes. And then I remembered that I once vowed to say that I have not changed much actually. You are the one changing.
Why would I have said that with such confidence at that time? I could guess about if I put myself back in that period, however, wouldn’t I have had the slightest consideration that, sooner or later, I will as well be moved as time goes by? That even my shouldered responsibilities and my original standing point will unwittingly change?
I already have no idea how much you change, although I always try to speculate the change in you in the big environment. On the other hand, I do not want to imagine you with a mouthful of vulgar words or in a state of philistine appearance, even they are your compromises for survival.
While living in the silent days, how many times have I changed myself? How many times has the shadow moved along with the sunshine and moonlight? Am I still the previous me? But which is “the previous me”? Is it the one you are familiar with but in fact I am never truly honest? Or the one I uphold to myself but in fact has deviated from what you know?
I am going to run away again next week. With romance in mind, and the emptiness that has failed to be relieved all these years, I am learning to slowly morph the awkward run away into a more comfortable and poetic way of escape.
(English translation by Syn)