然而，无论去到天涯海角，心中的包袱放不下，他便不得快乐，而注定只能不断地等待，等待快乐，等待生活的起航，直到有一天他可以静静地安坐在自我身边。
But until he unpacked his own baggage, he couldn't be happy anywhere he went. Until he sat still with himself, he was doomed to keep waiting for his happiness and his life to begin.
他从来不会总是放不下某次碰撞。
一个小橱里放着他的衣服和搜集来的书籍——桌上桌下都放不下了。
A small closet contained his clothes and the books he had accumulated and for which there was no room on the table or under the table.
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