Let me see the two layers of life. Notice how when the train goes underground and is decelerating as it approaches a station, you see the brief flashes of brilliance from advertisement signboards for one moment. Then when the signboard disappears from sight, you see a smaller window of yourself and your surroundings in a mirror image, slightly further away. That, too, fades off had you blinked and closed your eyes for a split second longer.
How does that relate to life? We all love good news. All that is wonderful and blissful we'd like to keep closer to ourselves in our memories. And the not-so-pretty part (also known to some as the "under-the-rug-swept" part) we'd just like to keep at the back of our minds. That should explain the difference in distance between the signboards and mirror image. On the same note, the mirror image does whatever you do: it stares back at you, asking you what great feat you had accomplished in the day. Except it appears a shade darker than your real self, as if reminding you of the dark secrets you keep only to yourself, sometimes wishing that even you could forget them.
What happens next is that when the train gathers speed as it leaves the station, the difference in size doesn't seem too apparent anymore. Instead of emulating the Windows Aero interface, the two layers of life seem to be tiled side by side, providing a mixture of haunting and pleasing images for you to fathom and behold. And I dedicate this to all unsettled souls out there. Choose which side you wish to maximise. It can be done.
我亦被提醒咗一樣嘢, 世界上冇永遠嘅朋友, 都冇永遠嘅敌人．睇你點諗嘅嗻~
