寫東西，我喜歡打開視窗的記事簿，看著浮標有節奏地跳動，好像可以讓思緒也一起跳躍。不知道為什麼，我也喜歡聽著手指在鍵盤上飛躍的「的答的答」的聲響，看著自己的手指按著倉頡的規律敲動，莫名的快感總會在我腦海閃過。

而打出來的東西往往卻是毫無意義的字符。

坐在可藝中學的禮堂裡，打開收音機，立即響起現場版的Hotel California。那曾經是我反覆不斷在房裡播放的歌，已經可以一面聽一面唱。聽這首歌會有種很特別的感覺，在禮堂裡再次聽到更加有種不現實的空洞感。

Mirrors on the ceiling
Pink champagne on ice
And she said
We are all just prisoners here
Of our own device
And in the master's chambers
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can't kill the beast
Last thing I remember
I was running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
Relax said the nightman
We are programed to recieve
You can check out any time you like
But you can never leave