冰箱

和冰箱對視的時候，我偶爾會有種被吞噬的感覺；有時候，冰箱會把我擠壓得喘不過氣；冰箱會陪我坐在沙發發呆、陪我出門。我想要把冰箱門關起來，但它不聽話，貼上ok繃就能把它治好嗎？

以前我們曾大吵一架，我向他宣洩情緒，它以嗡嗡聲回嘴，我難過、我憤怒，但我最後發現我還是很愛冰箱，愛得可以捨棄我的心臟。

我知道ok繃不能把它治好，唯有我主動走進冰箱的內心世界，同時讓我撕破皮肉掏出真心，才能治好「我們」。一輪歇斯底里後，冰箱把我吐出來，它不再被ok繃束縛，我也找回了我的心臟，我們都變得完整。

我們每天也會打開冰箱，但冰箱只能冰食物嗎? 也許他看見了我們許多的樣貌，只是我們沒有認真聆聽過它的嗡嗡聲，更沒有思考它在訴說甚麼。冰箱既可以是朋友，也可以是家人，我們不必愛得口不擇言，希望觀眾可以對身邊的「冰箱」袒露愛意。

Refrigerator

When I lock eyes with the refrigerator, I sometimes feel as if I’m being swallowed. At times, it presses in on me until I can hardly breathe. It sits with me on sofa silently and even goes out with me. I want to close its door, but it won’t listen—would putting a bandage on it make it better?

We once had a huge fight. I poured out my emotions to it, and it answered back with a low hum. I was sad, I was angry, but in the end I realized I still loved the refrigerator—so much that I could give up my heart for it.

I know a bandage won’t heal it. Only by stepping into the refrigerator’s inner world myself, and by tearing open my own skin to reveal my true heart can heal us. After a wave of hysteria, the refrigerator spits me back out. It is no longer bound by bandages, and I have found my heart again. We both become “whole”.