Chapter 15 Chapter Fourteen

I don't know what time I went to bed.I remember taking off my clothes, putting on my bathrobe, and standing outside on the balcony.I knew at the time that I was very drunk, and I went into the room, turned on the bedside lamp, and started reading.I read a book by Turgenev.There are two pages that I probably re-read several times.This is a short story in "Hunter's Notes".I've seen it in the past, but it seems like I haven't seen it.The countryside was vivid in my mind, and the oppressive feeling in my head seemed to relax.I was so drunk that I didn't want to close my eyes because when I did, I felt like the room was spinning.If I keep watching, the feeling goes away.

I heard Brett and Robert Cohen come up the stairs.Cohen said good night outside the door, and continued walking towards his room.I heard Brett go into the next room.Mike has fallen asleep.He had come upstairs with me an hour ago.He woke up when she came in, and they were talking.I hear their laughter.I turn off the lights and try to fall asleep.There is no need to read any more books.I close my eyes and there is no sense of rotation anymore.But I can't sleep, and there's no reason why you should see things differently in the dark than in the light.Hell, for no reason! Once I thought about it so well that for six months I could not sleep with the light out.This is another wonderful flash.All women go to hell anyway.To hell with you, Brett Ashley.

Women can be bosom friends.Very caring.In order to lay the foundation of a friendship, you must first have a crush on her.I had been favored by Brett.I haven't considered it from her side's gain or loss.I got it for nothing.This simply delayed the arrival of the bill.But the bill has to come.It's one of the nice things you can count on. I think I have paid off all accounts.Unlike women, pay it back, pay it back, pay it back, never stop.There was no thought of retribution or punishment at all.It's just an exchange of equivalents.You take something out and get something else.Or what you strive for.You pay in some way for everything that is somehow good for you.I've got quite a few things I like for what I've paid for, so I've had a good time.You either use your knowledge as the price, or you use experience, opportunity, or money as the price.The joy of enjoying life is learning to spend your money well and knowing when you are doing well.You can get your money's worth.The world is a great marketplace for your purchases.This seems to be an excellent philosophical theory.I think in five years this theory will look as ludicrous as any other high philosophical theory I have ever had.

Maybe not, though.Maybe as the years go by, you'll learn something.What the hell is going on in the world, I don't care.I just want to figure out how to live in it.Maybe if you know how to live in the world, you'll learn from it what the world really is. However, I do wish Mike hadn't been too cut-and-dried with Cohen. Mike was drunk and restless.Brett was drunk and quiet.Bill was drunk and quiet.Cohen never got drunk.Mike was a nuisance when he drank too much.I love watching him hurt Cohen.But I wish he wouldn't do that, because it would make me loathe myself afterwards.Here's the moral: hindsight can cause you to loathe yourself.No, that would be immoral.This is a general view.How I can think and talk nonsense at night, I heard Brett's words in my ears.Nonsense!When you're with the British, you're used to thinking in British terms.The colloquial vocabulary of the English - at least in high society - must be less than that of the Eskimos.Of course, I know nothing about Eskimo.Eskimo may be a beautiful language.Take Cherokee, for example.I also know nothing about Cherokee.British people often speak in phrases with different intonations.A phrase that means a lot, and yet I have a fondness for them.I like the way they speak.For example, Harris.Harris, however, was hardly considered high society.

I turned on the light to read again.I read this book by Turgenev.I knew then that reading in an oversensitive mood after drinking too much brandy I could remember, and I would afterwards feel as if I had experienced it myself.I will never forget it.This is another good thing you pay for.I didn't fall asleep until it was almost dawn. For the next two days we were peaceful in Pamplona, ​​and there were no further quarrels.The preparations for the festival in the whole city are getting ready gradually.Workers erected gateposts at intersections to block side streets when the cattle were released from their pens in the morning and ran through the main street to the bullring.The workers dug the hole and buried the stakes, and each stake was marked with a number so that it could be inserted in the specified place.On the high hills outside the city, the hired hands of the bullring were training the bullfighting horses, and they drove the straight-legged horses galloping on the sun-hardened ground behind the bullring.The doors of the bullring are open, and the stands are being cleaned inside.The site was rolled and watered, and carpenters replaced weak or cracked boards on the perimeter fence.Standing on the edge of the flattened sand, you can look up to the empty stands above, and you can see some old women cleaning the boxes.

Outside, a fence had been erected from the main street at the edge of the town to the entrance of the bullring, forming a long passage; on the first morning of the bullfight, everyone would run together, chased by the bulls.On the flat ground outside the city where the cattle and horse fair will be held, some gypsies have already camped under the trees.Vendors of various liquors are setting up wooden sheds.There was a wooden shed that advertised "Ouzo".Draped signboards hung on the sunlit siding.The Grand Place in the city center has not changed much.We sat in white wicker chairs on the terrace of the cafe and watched the bus arrive at the stop, and the peasants who came from the country to go to the market got out of the bus, and we watched the bus full of peasants and drove away, and they sat in the bus and took Saddlebags full of things bought from the city.Apart from the pigeons and a man who sprayed the square and washed the street with a hose, the only life in the gravel square was these tall gray buses.

Evenings are for walking.Within an hour after supper, all the pretty girls, the local garrison officers, and all the well-dressed men and women of the town were promenading in the street on one side of the square, and the tables of the cafés were filled with regulars who had dined. In the morning, I often sit in a cafe and read the various newspapers published in Madrid, and then take a stroll in the city, or go to the countryside outside the city.Bill sometimes goes with them.Sometimes he writes in his room.Robert Cohen spends his mornings studying Spanish or finding time to go to the barber's for a shave.Brett and Mike didn't get up until noon.We all drank vermouths in cafes.The days passed peacefully, and no one got drunk.I've been to church twice, once with Brett.She said she wanted to hear my confession, but I told her that not only was it impossible, but it wasn't as interesting as she thought, and that even if I did, it was in a language she wouldn't understand.As we were coming out of the church we met Cohen, obviously long after us, but he was very pleasant and friendly, and the three of us wandered as far as the gypsy tent, where Brett had a fortune-telling.

It was a bright morning with white clouds high above the mountains.It rained for a while at night, and the air on the high hill was fresh and cool, presenting a wonderful scene.We all felt good and refreshed, and I was pretty friendly with Cohen.On such a day, nothing will bother you. This is what happened on the last day before the festival.