試看明日之域中，當是誰家之天下。

嫵媚的嫵媚，唇邊仍留著醉；
曖昧的曖昧，嫣然片刻後，無限回味。
憔悴的憔悴，眼角仍掛著淚；
心碎的心碎，靈魂剎那間，永恆下墜。

What is justice?
And what is freedom?
Nothing but a self-deceptive edifice,
Built upon our endless boredom!

All we have is nothingness,
Once awaken there is no return.
Abandon all memories of happiness,
Let this decadent world, burn!

What is that we call history?
A lie, a joke, or a wail?
Smash all those truth and glory,
And death to every fairytale!

O death, end of everything,
In you I seek life's spring!

庸俗与庸俗之间，随意点缀着生活。

经过深思熟虑，我决定用“意志的胜利”来命名贝多芬的不朽的第九交响曲。无论是富特文革勒的不屈，尊严，和愤怒；还是卡拉扬的张扬，华丽，和霸气；还是伯恩斯坦的睿智，沉稳和尊贵，都是对意志的美和永恒的歌颂和对胜利与热情的赞美。

没有目的，
没有方向，
飘荡，飘荡，
来路扑朔，
去路迷茫，
彷徨，彷徨。

休息休息，放松放松，消遣消遣，忽悠忽悠。

明治元老出身武士，洋务重臣出身地主。

    Such is the nature of the pathetic human faculty of perception that whenever we speak of obstruction, we fancy a gigantic stone sitting in the middle of a narrow trail, or, if we went a bit further, a crossroad barricade set by the tyrannical police; whenever we come across the phrase “others”, we have in our mind images of unacquainted strangers first, then perhaps, as an extension, of our close kinfolks; and whenever we think of the concept of “not free”, our minds suggest that stinky prison cells or chuckling chains and fetters would serve as perfect visual rendition of it.
    Is a man really free when nothing seems to be blocking him, nobody identifiable is chaining him, and nowhere encircled is confining him, at least when he should so perceive? Common senses seem to approve it. However, I have doubts. Myriads of sparks in my senses go beyond these interpretations based upon mediocrity, of which I regret only a small portion am I able to bring forth below.
    Vision based upon visibility is essential to human perception, yet many a time a materialist rendition is not sufficient or of primary importance in some cases. Forces from the internal mind can be sometimes much more momentous than from the external universe, and serve as good invisible barricades. Fear intimidates people from confession, distrust from cooperation, shyness terminates great expectations of some careers, and rage bars senses and sensibilities. We can easily expand this list ad infinitum if necessary. As we can see, these forces, if we go for the plain explanation of the multitude, are not easily considered blockades. People don’t know they are obstructed because they can’t perceive the obstacles. However, if we go further to see where these mental boulders come from, we can easily find out that they come from others who impose such feelings on them. Fear from cruelty, distrust from wickedness, shyness from jeering, and rage from disrespect, so on and so forth. When we come to the internal forces that blocks us from something desirable, we call them internal obstructions, as Taylor put it, though they can also keeps us away from the undesirables. And we also admit that such obstructions are installed by opinions. Classical liberalist argue that persuasion and opinions are more justifiable than chains and fetters.             However, isn’t persuasion also a kind of reign rope and opinions whips? Likewise, chains and fetters can also be metaphorical rather than real.
    We can dodge visible chains if well trained in gymnastics; invisible ones, external or internal, however, cannot easily dodged unless one is well trained in will. Sometimes, however, chains come along with whips. They enter into us and bring about inflictions whenever we believe that we have sinned. We call them a superego, i.e. an avatar of public inspector, accuser and avenger planted deep in our souls. What is a superego? It is opinions of society branded on our minds, and internalized as part of our personalities. We can perceive it as an avenger, but also a guardian, since punishment is a way of prevention. Then we can see that such a guardian stands with virtues against sins in our minds. However, if we think again over what virtues and sins are, we can find out that they can both be called freedom, the former positive, and the latter negative, by Berlin’s terminology. Therefore, as we see, we can be our own informers and cops, witnesses and jurors, judges and avengers, and of course, wardens, finding our hide, arresting us, testifying against us, convicting us, sentencing us, imprison and inflicting us, and coldly watching us locked, without bothering others, as “prisoners of our own device”. 
    O, prison, what a terrible institution for the multitude, yet sometimes endearing to some wanderers? Imagine that an entire settlement is built on oasis and surrounding it, wilderness. Inside and outside, which would rather you call a prison? We sometimes do need to curtail and deprive part of our desires for freedom, voluntarily, for the desire for companion, even if they should be persecuting us, or for self-chastise. Locked in a prison, we can at least find company of accusers and avengers, (for some reason I omit fellow inmates) and through suffering inflictions come to the illusion that each whip on the soul carries away a bit of sin. But if, abandoned into wilderness and imprisoned outside of humanity, what do we have? Vox Clamantis in Deserto?  Most people won’t become John the Baptist since they are not voluntary exiles. If we hold that none-interfering is freedom, then to hell with such kind of freedom, since they are banishment in disguise. Social Alienation, excommunication, or else, does not bang the door at your face, but simply keeps it, as it were, closed.  No barricades, no chains, no prisons, yet it brings about not freedom, but “unbearable lightness of being”  in the wilderness of humanity.
    At last, we find out, sadly, that although we tried to disapprove a common view, we ended up acknowledging many conclusions of that view in our process of sabotaging the old reasoning system, a futile journey ad absurdum. Is a person free to the extent that no one interferes with his affairs? I don’t know. What I do know is that many people might not be able to realize that they are blocked from freedom, to know that such barricades are internal, and linked with external net of society, or to perceive themselves as self-sufficient accusers and avengers over themselves without others’ interference, or to be alerted that none-interfering has the peril to lead to something look like freedom but turn out to be the opposite. Truth is always uneasy; still, we can maintain that so long as the interferences came in a human and humane way, so that enlightened people would perceive them as vehicles towards higher levels of freedom, Freedom is not dead.

You can feel isolated amongst a great horde of people, you can feel hot in winter, chilly in summer. No much difference unless you mind tells you that there is some.

You can write great pieces in the library, in your dorm, in the basement of a crowded noisy fraternity house, in a haunted graveyard, in a horny brothel filled with fast men and loose whores, or,  in your dream.

Write in no where, write in anywhere.

Why minding those glittering, shining, dazzling combinations of letters, which is a meaningless craft derived from the very essence of human vanity?
Why imitating those so called illustrious gurus of letter, who are but no more crafty than children playing with pits of dominoes?
The are not great because of their skill of manipulating words, no, my friend.
Concision is virtue, form is virtue, peculiarity is virtue, simplicity is virtue, accuracy is virtue, variation is virtue, repetitions is virtue, yet are they not all contrary to each other?
Language is evolving, yet not out of correctness, but errors. Language is, as it were itself a baby of myriads of incestuous intercourses of errors.
Let those scholar spend all their life on my weird erroneous language, that's what exactly the scholars do for a living.
Yes, your excellency, your majesty, your grace, your honor, your what-fucking-ever virtue, that's it.
 If, however, you insist, hire an editor for me, at your expense of course.

Why reason? Reason is absurd. There is madness in reason, yet in madness is there reason.
Disagree as if agree, agree as if disagree.
When one is wise enough, he will not seek more wise, because when he seeks more wise, his is not wise enough.
Reasons can only explain a probable solution, yet, your highness, the fucking probability cannot be reasoned.

Why quote those illustrious philosophers? Are they wiser? Do they have more reason? Behold, a drunkard or a madman can utter words of wisdom in multitudes! Of course we admire philosophers, because they can utter drunk phrases when they are sober.
Why quote those illustrious philosophers? Are they the first? No, millions of primitive men, even though they know not letters or languages, expressed same ideas, only they are unknown to us?
Why quote those illustrious philosophers? Are they the original? No, though their mouth, millions of dead predecessors speak.
Don't quote, let others quote you!