看起來很完美的地方，有時會讓人喘不過氣。
建議搭配歌曲：李佳薇《煎熬》原版MV會引起部分人的不適感，故放歌詞版。
壓抑與高壓的社會體制下，有一種靜謐的美感。
✍️ 這篇文章是我的一個實驗——
試著用自己的創作，練自己的英文。 雖然我在外商公司工作，但語言能力其實還停留在大學時期。 為了讓自己學得下去，也寫得下去，我決定試試看「中英對照創作」的方式。
英文不是完美翻譯，而是我盡力保留原文語感、節奏與情緒的嘗試。
這篇文章既是筆記，也是練習本。 如果你也在學語言，也許我們可以一起在這趟旅程裡找到一點共鳴。
English:
✍️ This article is a little experiment of mine —
to practice English by working with my own writing. Although I work in a foreign company, my language skills still feel stuck in college days.
So instead of using textbooks, I decided to use what I love — storytelling — to help myself grow.
The English parts here aren't perfect translations. They're an honest attempt to keep the rhythm, emotion, and spirit of the original.
This piece is part travelogue, part language journal.
And if you're also learning a language, maybe we can find a little resonance on this ride together.
---------------------------------------- 正文開始--------------------------------------------------
中文
我不是日本通，也沒住過日本。這次也只是跟團旅遊，沒搭新幹線，地鐵也全靠導遊領。 我能理解的，是旅行時聞到的氣味、聽到的故事，以及從動漫裡反覆讀出的那些奇妙表情。
但也正因為距離，我反而能更清楚地感受到，那些「太完美」的地方，讓人有點不安。
日本的街道整潔、地鐵準時、服務周到，這一切都讓人讚嘆。但在那份無懈可擊的禮貌背後，我總覺得藏著某種說不出口的壓力——溫柔得像空氣，卻讓人喘不過氣。
EN
I'm not a Japan expert, and I've never lived there.
This was just a group tour — no Shinkansen, no solo subway adventures. Our guide handled everything.
What I do understand comes from the scents I caught while traveling, the stories I overheard, and those strange, familiar expressions I've seen again and again in anime.
Maybe it's because I'm an outsider, but I felt it more clearly — that kind of too perfect atmosphere that makes you a little uneasy.
The streets are spotless, the trains run like clockwork, and the service is impressively polite.
But behind that seamless politeness, I couldn't shake off a quiet kind of pressure — so gentle it's like air, and yet it somehow makes it hard to breathe.
看起來什麼都沒發生。 但好像連空氣都有秩序。
中文
出發前，我腦中浮現過某部動漫的場景：電車上，一名男子被誣陷碰觸女高中生，明明一臉無辜，但全車人沒有一個敢幫忙。
我一度以為這只是誇張戲劇，直到我在北海道的旅行中問導遊：「這真的會發生嗎？」 他說：「會啊，但大家都知道怎麼保護自己——雙手提包、背對人群、不碰別人、不對眼。」 原來，電車裡那種安靜，不全是體貼，更多的是「大家心知肚明不要惹事」。
聽起來很理性，但也有點冷得發毛。
English
Before the trip, a scene from an anime kept flashing through my mind — a man on a train falsely accused of groping a high school girl.
He looked completely innocent, but not a single person on the train dared to speak up.
I used to think that was just exaggerated drama.
But during the trip, I asked our guide in Hokkaido, “Would something like that really happen?”
He replied, “Oh, it happens. But people here know how to protect themselves — keep both hands on your bag, turn your back to the crowd, avoid touching others, and never make eye contact.”
It turns out that the quietness on Japanese trains isn’t just about being considerate.
It's also a silent understanding: don't cause trouble.
It sounds rational.
But also… cold enough to send a chill down your spine.
這裡什麼都清楚標示，也什麼都不用說出口。
中文
導遊年輕時曾到日本留學，說自己剛入住學生宿舍時特別守規矩——登門拜訪、送伴手禮、打招呼樣樣不缺。
社區的人也很親切，甚至帶他熟悉環境。
但他後來發現，有其他外地學生沒這麼做。
那些人沒幹嘛，但沒送禮、沒打招呼，於是當垃圾出問題時，耳語就開始了：「是不是那個外國人沒分好？」、「味道是從他那出來的吧？」 我一邊笑一邊起雞皮疙瘩。
這社會會不會太擅長「用沈默懷疑你」了點？
English
Our guide told us that when he was a student in Japan, he was extra cautious about following the rules when moving into the dormitory.
He visited neighbors, brought small gifts, and made sure to greet everyone politely.
The community was warm and welcoming, even showing him around.
But he later noticed that other foreign students who didn’t do the same were treated… differently.
They didn't actually do anything wrong. But they just didn't bring gifts and say hello.
And when something went wrong with the trash, the whispers started:
“Was it that foreigner who didn't sort it properly?”
“I think the smell came from his place…”
I laughed at the story — and got goosebumps at the same time.
This society might just be a little too good at judging you… without saying a word.
如果你沒主動打招呼，你可能就默默被標籤了。
中文
導遊還補充了一句很妙的觀察：「北海道說不定有一半的人，這輩子都沒離開過這座島。」
台灣人聽到這句話會很驚訝。
我們習慣出國、打卡、搶機票，但在日本，有些人真的沒想過要離開自己的生活圈。
不是沒能力，而是根本沒這種選項。
物價高、扶養壓力重、社會節奏早早就幫你排好了： 小時候有女兒節、兒童節，長大有成人禮，接著就變成社畜，直到老了退休才開始第一次出國旅行。
那不是選擇，而是一套默認設定。
English
The guide added one more curious observation:
“In Hokkaido, maybe half the people here have never left the island in their entire lives.”
To someone from Taiwan, that sounds almost unbelievable.
We're used to flying abroad, checking in at airports, scrambling for cheap flights.
But in Japan, there are people who've never even considered stepping outside their daily orbit.
It's not that they can't — it's that they were never given that option.
High living costs, heavy family responsibilities, and a social rhythm that's already scheduled for you from the start:
As a child, you celebrate Girls' Day and Children's Day.
As a teen, there's the Coming of Age ceremony.
Then you become a salaryman. And only after retirement — maybe — do you take your first trip abroad.
That's not a choice.
It's a default setting.
一場雨洗去日常，世界像是鬆了一口氣，也讓人重新呼吸。
中文
我想起那部《殭屍百分百》。主角每天加班被壓榨，直到殭屍爆發，他反而笑著說：「太好了，我不用再上班了。」
他一邊閃殭屍一邊哼歌，像是第一次活過來。我以前覺得這段很荒謬，現在卻開始理解。 那不是誇張，是誠實。
English
It reminded me of the anime Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead.
The main character is overworked and drained, day after day — until a zombie outbreak hits. And instead of panicking, he grins and says,
“Great! I don't have to go to work anymore.”
Dodging zombies, he hums to himself — like it’s the first time he’s ever felt alive.
I used to think that scene was ridiculous. Now, I kind of get it.
It wasn’t an exaggeration.
It was the truth.
有時候越有秩序的地方，越讓人想逃。
中文
我不是說台灣比較好。
我們的自由，常常混著混亂；彈性有時也變成拖延。
但至少，我們還有勇氣說：「今天不想努力了。」還能偷懶、抱怨、偶爾亂七八糟地活著。
我想，一個能讓你出錯的社會，也許才是最溫柔的秩序。
至少，在那樣的地方，你不需要靠世界末日才能獲得自由。
而那種自由，是社會肯讓你慢一拍、錯一步，還願意等你。
English
I'm not saying Taiwan is better.
Our version of freedom often comes with chaos, and flexibility sometimes turns into procrastination.
But at the very least, we still have the courage to say, “I just don't feel like trying today.”
We're still allowed to slack off, complain, and live a little messily from time to time.
Maybe the kindest kind of order is the kind that lets you make mistakes.
At least in that kind of place, you don't need a zombie apocalypse to feel free.
That kind of freedom comes from a society willing to let you pause, stumble — and still wait for you to catch up.
一條不會催促你的路，錯一步也有人等你。
