Journal 1

“Ring…” It’s the alarm clock I set last night. I stretched out my arm, trying to stop it ringing again. It’s Sunday and I plan to go to the Performing Arts Library of the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall to borrow some musical DVDs. I got up in a hurry, and brushed my teeth, washed my face and dressed quietly. Before going out of the house, I spied on my parents out of their bedroom to make sure if I had woken them up rudely. Then, I walked on tiptoe with a grinding sound from the wooden floor, wearing shoes and closed the door carefully. I stepped out of my house, picking up the headphones and selecting the film soundtracks in my MP3.
The music I was listening to was the soundtracks of Notes on a Scandal with minimal with the extreme simplification of rhythms by Philip Glass, who composed the soundtracks of The Hours. The gloomy melody started to shape my suppressed feeling. Listening to this music was like wearing a pair of blue lenses to see the world today. The street in front of my house was almost empty. There were still some puddles on the ground. It seemed to have rained last midnight, no wonder why it was so dim and faint. There was a dog with his dispirited tail trying to lick the little rainwater. After drinking a bit, he raised his head, staring at me with his flattering tail. From his tragic eyes, I could tell he was begging for food. “Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t had my breakfast either.” muttered I. I kept walking, trying to escape his poor figure.
On the MRT, I found a seat which could make me see the view from the overhead railroad. There were some people on the street; however, only could I see their tops of heads. In the meantime, there was a bizarre thought through my brain: “Was it the way that the omniscient God could see? Did God watch people coming back and forth every single day with such bird-eye view? Could he see through people?” Even though I could never read their minds from here, I already thought human beings were all pathetic when seeing them in a rush and in a muddle. I, sometimes, observe such hilarious scene with a cold eye. Unfortunately, I was a part in it.
As a result, I could not endure the view any more. I turned round my head and saw a family with two kids getting on the train. Obviously, their destination was the Taipei City Zoo. The lovely kids whose faces were filled with exultation, and immediately, they attracted the passengers’ attentions. Some kind ladies stood up, motioning to give seats to them. The parents showed the gratefulness to thank the ladies’ goodwill. The grantors and grantees made the scene in the carriage warm and fragrant. After the train arriving at the next station, a senior hunchback came in. All of a sudden, there was a strong offensive stink assailing my nostrils. The countenances of others were distorted, and some of them dodging and leaved him. The spaces around the old man were soon expanded. The situation put him to shame directly. “What a nasty smell, Mom!” whined one of the angelical children. It was so loud that I could hear it even when I wore the headphones. The other beautiful child grimaced to humiliate him, pinching his nose absurdly. The elegant woman at once tried to stop her children’s noticeable behaviors with a hypocritical smile. Other passengers gave both of them some tender glances. The old hunchback, like a poor outcast, got off the strain, bowing the head. I did not think this was the station he wanted to arrive at, but he, without a doubt, fled from the cruel world. Subsequently, some passengers began to whisper. Some moved back, sitting on their previous seats. The tense atmosphere started to relieve. Until the door of the train opened again, the first thing everyone did was to breathe deeply, or to get off right away.