更好的人

又下雪了。

去年柏林的冬天來地緩慢且猶豫，在其他城市早已積起雪堆後，柏林的初雪才姍姍來遲，飄了一陣子後，卻又在跨年前消失地無影無蹤，就像是歸鄉的居民，回到別的城市慶祝，整個柏林反而因此顯得格外空蕩。

在沒有雪的日子，我反而重感冒，每個夜晚早早就寢，繁雜碎裂的夢境讓我在午夜半夢半醒，分不清虛實的界線。偶爾夢見過去或自己的欲望，醒來後便覺頭痛欲裂，劇烈地咳嗽不止，仿佛有什麼梗在胸前仍咳不出來，心口感到緊緊一壓而龜裂，覺得痛。

在那樣的夜裡，我常常問自己是否已經成為更好的人。

Was it a huntsman or a player
That made you pay the cost
That now assumes relaxed positions
And prostitutes your loss?
Were you tortured by your own thirst
In those pleasures that you seek
That made you Tom the curious
That makes you James the weak?

And you claim you got something going
Something you call unique
But I've seen your self-pity showing
As the tears rolled down your cheeks

Soon you know I'll leave you
And I'll never look behind
'Cos I was born for the purpose
That crucifies your mind
So con, convince your mirror
As you've always done before
Giving substance to shadows
Giving substance ever more

And you assume you got something to offer
Secrets shiny and new
But how much of you is repetition
That you didn't whisper to him too