Encounter

The Buddha said, only looking back for 500 times achieved a shoulder-brushed.

Never know if it is true, but some people click the first time we met, feeling like old friends.

No need to know each other before when encountering, no need to greet and start a conversation at ease. Even the topic is not important, talk while sitting, standing and walking.

Some of them, the first time I met with is also the last time, and left the city in a hurry. Nothing to regret while farewell. A smile, a hug, a wave, then go on our own way, not even turning around, not looking forward to reencounter. If some day somewhere we meet again occasionally, and we still remember each other, we will exchange the same smile; if not, just act like the 1st time.

I convince that each of us used to remember, that unspeakable and quiet feeling in our hearts. Maybe we all assumed in some blink of an eye, that if this were not the first time or the last time, what would we be? The illusion flied like a wing from the heart, like a crystal bubble, floating in the air. In the moment it became the reflection of the rainbow, burst by the moisture. The moment our eyesight crossed, then we smiled.

The scream while running the red light in CWB, the Belly Dance in Sahara, the chill along the BED lounge, the wind through the tram in King’s Road, the relaxation of boat trip, the punch lines while hiking, the life philosophy in the tea house, the taste menu in the restaurant, and dozens of stuff I couldn’t remember anymore, becoming some unlinked but heartfelt clips.
It is said when you get old, you live by your memory. Many years later, I will certainly remember, those beautiful and pure encountering with numberless people in uncountable times.

No matter where you are, no matter if you still remember me, wish you the best and peace.