Okay it’s blog time! Everyone fasten your seatbelt here we’re about to go wild.

or not.

事情是这样的。最近又能动又不太能动（？）的生活实在乏善可陈，友于是建议我说可以写写病中杂记，我大惊，心想哇那种吃喝拉撒事无巨细拿来打发时间转移注意力的半吊子journal可万万见不得人。但以此为契机，我终于打开记事本（yea随手抓起手机记两笔的那种）对照着日期认真看了一会儿，试图梳理一下当时到底写了些什么，才发现这100天快得好像白驹过隙，最初那几周的鸡毛蒜皮不知不觉已经模糊地仿佛上辈子的事。

众所周知每天journaling对我来说难于登天。事实证明躺着无事可做也不能迫使我定时定点输出废话。现在读那时候写的东西，倒也不觉得太苦，主要是有点好笑。比如特地写了一下手术当天护士都对我很温柔我好感动， 结果由于进手术室前过于紧张出手术室之后麻醉没过困得睁不开眼，姐姐妹妹们的名字一个都没记住，我边读边一脑袋问号，笑死。还有第一周有一天写的是一些零星的人话间夹杂着一大串啊——（aka土拨鼠尖叫），是因为在浴缸旁边发现了一只鲜活的我甚至不想在这里打出它的名字的多足大虫，当时只能单脚蹦跶的我边迅速U turn跳出去拿橡胶手套，边在心里崩溃，不知道到底是希望它跑得够快等我回来的时候已经不在了让我省掉一些挣扎，which was completely possible considering how immobilized I was at that time，还是比较希望我能跑得比它快一点等我回来还能来得及杀掉它，ok not like running running but still……总之肾上腺素猛刷存在感，立刻生死时速了一番，以我险胜结束战斗（phew）。勉强杀生之后陷入术后第一个大breakdown，残疾人如何应对入侵生物？人为什么要经历这些？遂抱着手机尖叫了一整页，笑死。但怎么说，还是有点幸运！生活还远没有恐怖到我完全动不了的同时被非常能动的其他可怕生物环伺，也还行吧，I’ll take it.

写了大量鸡零狗碎的东西。比如几点几分觉得应该给自己喂点饭但下床一次非常费劲光想想就累了，于是强行继续躺，后来于几点几分终于屈服，挪去厨房刨出了什么什么吃掉。这个不好吃那个吃不下的，随地大小嫌弃。这样那样。比如哪天看了什么电视，哪里好看哪里难看。哪天（tbh nearly everyday）半夜睡不着觉又点开了哪篇文，学英语学得如痴如醉废寝忘食（？）。还有一天是2023年写的以为根本没人看的同人久违地收到了写得很认真的一条评论，made me almost light up like a christmas tree。但出现最多的还是“现在已经几点几分了快下床吃饭吧宝贝”这样毫无实际疗效的自我pep talk，跟几天之后因为体重掉太快而陷入恐慌的反思形成一种“told you so”的互文。读到这里我想起来了一些当时的情状，但很多随手写下的芝麻绿豆又不完全记得，一种又清晰又模糊的阅读体验，像在看别人身上刚刚发生而我自己也恰巧经历过的久远的事。

后来复工之后写journal的频率和长度都明显下降。可见打工令我丧失表达欲。当然也可能是重新开始融入人类文明，aka开一些不知所云的会并装模作样表演认真工作，极大减轻了我对长期处于isolation的恐慌，对自言自语的角色扮演需求显著降低了。于是在journal里，肉眼可见我从一个会对着手机尖叫的弱小人类，逐渐回归成熟冷漠演技出色并身残志坚的打工人。虽然仍是雷打不动的厌班，但凭良心讲，这大概算得上我需要这份工作远比工作需要我更多的证据。

Hated to admit it but this job was one of the very few things that kept me sane when nothing else particularly held me up there. maybe it still is.

也写过一些非常cheesy的东西。Like five days in I wrote about waking up in pain sucks.

The truth is I can now confidently say that this past 100 days changed my acceptance to pain permanently.

It’s not some accident that summons my panic reactions immediately anymore, rather I’d learned how to observe and maybe sometimes even savor it, with tons of practice that I didn’t think I’d ever be prepared for.

Now it’s more like how I observe my emotional swings, I became very used to observing the intense or subtle feelings from those small joints and minor muscles. My dance teacher used to emphasize the importance of being able to sense the farthest stretch of your movement, which remained challenging for me for a long time. Ironically, since some day during this past 100 days when I was the least mobile, it just had to become as natural as breathing, when there was a whole period of time the only thing I could feel 24x7 was the exact impact of my every single movement from all those small joints and muscles.

Perhaps this 100 days changed my view to a lot of things at meantime, it’s just this newly adopted pain was the mere one captured by my lousy journal then and there.

大约六七周之后开始能借助一些外物蹒跚走动了。与之相关，不久之后开始看PT，这段术后journal便彻底告一段落。满打满算写了一个多月，perhaps already the all time longest strike for my several (2) journaling attempts over the past few years. Quick question for ya: should I be proud of that?

Earlier today I kept thinking about a young couple I saw on the train around Kamakura last year.

The train was crowded with rowdy tourists. A carriage too full of noises and sweat. Despite all that, they were trying to chat.

The girl seemed Japanese, standing right next to the door just barely able to avoid the contact with the crowds, trying so hard on explaining some local activities and what some friends they both knew did in English, while the boy’s accent obviously was from US. The sparkling lights in her eyes, the curve of her cheerful but also a bit shy smile and the boy’s awkward responses when he apparently got lost in the translations yet didn’t want to cut the conversation short, all suddenly just gave me pause.

Kinda cute.

I have no idea why I thought about this very moment from several months ago. Seems so irrelevant.

Maybe I just like watching cute couples.

Or perhaps what jolted me then and there was a strange persistence when human beings try to hold on to something despite all the barriers and the inconsequential nature of the attempt itself.

Maybe seeing other people trying regardless also made me believe it for a brief moment. And I like believing something trivial. Like the past 100 days would eventually fade from my memory, but someday it may surface again, with nothing new but just tiny, little, weird sparks that vaguely mimic hope.