陌生的房间，孤单旅行。短暂的休憩，深夜，辗转难眠。
很多怀念。想起我的父亲，想到在路上的Jack Kerouac, 想起很多怀揣悲天悯人之心，孤独行走，在我之前和于我之后的旅者；想到“The bridges of Madison County” 中的Robert Kincaid，手插在兜里，探头看，窗外飞逝而过，与我们平行的，另一空间。
与你擦肩而过的行者，或许在秋风中孓然瑟瑟，但请收回怜悯的目光吧，他们，其实有着最清醒的选择，最自由的逃避，最固执的追寻，和最不妥协的的寂寞。
此刻，敲打窗棂的狂风啊，传递的，莫非是Kurt Kobain的问询：Would you like to hear my voice, sprinkled with emotion, invented at your birth? Oh, me, oh, me!
那么，为他的“it’s better to burn out than to fade away”, 为他的“peace, love, empathy”, 掌声响起吧！我愿为所有，心灵的独行者，献上我最崇高的敬意！
Oh, me (Nirvana)
If I had to lose a mile
If I had to touch feelings
I would lose my soul
The way I do
I don't have to think
I only have to do it
The results are always perfect
And that's old news
Would you like to hear my voice
Sprinkled with emotion
Invented at your birth?
I can't see the end of me
My whole expanse I cannot see
I formulate infinity
Stored deep inside me
If I had to lose a mile
If I had to touch feelings
I would lose my soul
The way I do
I don't have to think
I only have to do it
The results are always perfect
And that's old news
Would you like to hear my voice
Sprinkled with emotion
Invented at your birth?
I can't see the end of me
My whole expanse I cannot see
I formulate infinity
Stored deep inside me