記憶，真的很脆弱。
有的時候要靠照片來重拾，有的時候是文字。

想起華茲華斯對想像力的重視，他的題材總根植於一些回憶的重現。

文字也是：在埋藏記憶的那個角落，無法觸碰到那個曾經的傷心和覺悟。甚至，那是一個陌生人的文字。那裡也許是救贖能存在的地方。

曾經的努力和放棄、曾經的執著和任性，都會隨著記憶碎片成風中的聲音；偶然抓住那些碎片……。

Memory, is really fragile.
Pictures may sometimes recollect it, sometimes words.

The representation of Wordsworth on imagination, always rooting his topics in the flashback of memory.

The "my" words are too: in a corner lies and buries memory, sadness-used-to-be and awareness-had-been, unable to be touched. Even, those are words of a stranger. Yet there may be a place salvation exists.

Efforts taken and given up, love persisted and let go, may fragment with memories into wind sounds; sometimes pieces are grasped . . . .