中文有毒(嗎?)
中文是一種有毒的載體，被腦子有毒的人們賣弄而非撰寫，被心裡有病的人們品茗而非理解。它在不耽美時彆扭、在耽美時假鬼假怪而不明所以，但它能透過曖昧將分析上的徒勞全化成詩，用修辭學把傷痂粉飾成美妝。
I've been bullshitting in Chinese in the paragraph above, writing about the bullshit-ness of the Chinese language (and the possible cultural mindset that comes with the users), through my vain style of uttering pretty bullshit-words since my highschool years. My English is not fluent enough to elegantly translate the full metaphors of what I had in mind, and I can't write Chinese in a way that perfectly captures the essence of the phenomena I aim to describe. It's an itch I have on the back of my mind but my language arsenal could only scratch the surface.
我不能夠和任何人談論這些。以手寫口過久，我半殘而封閉的語言能力只能是以側目之下的濾鏡定體裁，以自戕的形式書寫而語焉不詳。終於在灼熱的目光之下，被解構得體無完膚之後再無人問津。
但我想說實話。未必說實話。我想寫我的感受。沒有包裝的，不堪入目無法被品嚐的，生的，沒有被心裡那個自噤者批改編輯矯飾意圖的，粗糙平庸但精準的。
I have a long way to go. To not make content but to create and feel. To be unpologetic, unpalatable but real.
2025/12 update: 我遇見了某人，他的書寫證明我是錯的。我很開心。