Chapter 51 Four, confused

I have lived in Nanwan Lake Farm for a year and a half. From the beginning to the end, my mood can be summed up in one word, which is confusion.From Beijing to the farm, via Changsha, a few of us classmates stood at the head of Juzizhou in the Xiangjiang River, and we couldn't help but think of Mao Zedong in his youth.At that time, he was also a student. He ran from the countryside to the city to organize the Xinmin Society. He was in his prime and gave advice.Now we are also at this age, but his old man scattered us from the city to the countryside, away from the political and cultural center.Even if you are as proud as a young Mao Zedong, what can you do if you live in this era led by his old man?Where is the journey that members of the Xinmin Society should take today?The two classmates around me always liked to talk about where China is headed and what the biggest social needs in the world are, and now they are also very worried and silent.In my opinion, they think they are standing on the height of historical inevitability, which is just the childish exaggeration of young people.I was far more conscious and negative than they were, and the notion of personal powerlessness hung over me like a shadow.A person is like a speck of dust, falling on the big net of a certain society in a certain era. We can't be a net lifter at all, we can only be dominated by the big net that is closed at this time.

I asked myself: what am I afraid of losing?Yes, I am afraid of losing my innocent, pure and sensitive heart, the ability to think independently, and the opportunity to show my talents in literature or academics.In short, I am worried that the waves of ordinary life, the vast ocean of the masses, will completely submerge me, a small but extremely precious individual.The bright road that Mao Zedong pointed out to intellectuals is to go among workers and peasants, unreservedly combine with workers and peasants, and completely transform themselves.On the one hand, I seem to be willing to reform myself, but on the other hand, I am just afraid that I will really be completely reformed.If there is no "Kingdom of Petty Bourgeois Intellectuals" deep in my soul, am I still me?People have endowed the word era with a special poetic flavor, shouting the slogan of throwing themselves into the era and rushing to hell full of passion. Am I going to jump down without hesitation?

On the surface, I also have moments of excitement, but I know that it is unreliable.Often, when I am participating in various activities, or joking with everyone, a feeling of depression suddenly seizes me, and my heart feels violently empty and restless like an electric shock, separating me from everything around me Come.In addition to labor, daily life consists of repeated lectures and discussions about labor.No matter how hard the work is, you can always get through it if you grit your teeth, and gradually adapt.The real pain is that this kind of life forcibly destroys all habits of intellectuals, leaving no room for maneuver.Even the basic concepts formed in my mind since childhood and growing up have suffered a fundamental blow.At that time Wen Wei Po published an article by Ding Xuelei, declaring that the entire content of ancient and foreign art must be thoroughly wiped out. I read it very disgusted.In fact, we are already in such a direct reality. Except for the "Little Red Book", any book is not allowed to be read, and we cannot read it.My soul was thrown into the boundless desert, and I couldn't see a shade of greenery, and I couldn't find any sustenance.I said to myself: Maybe, always looking for a kind of spiritual sustenance, and feeling anxious when there is no sustenance, this state is still petty bourgeoisie, right?

What also made me feel out of place was the prevailing "three loyalties" at that time, such as asking for instructions early, reporting late, reading every day, embroidering treasure statues, and expressing loyalty.When the wake-up call sounded, all the people rushed outside while putting on their clothes, stood in line on the open space, waved the "Red Book", and shouted "I wish the great leader Chairman Mao a long life without borders, and I wish Deputy Commander Lin good health and good health." ".Before each meal, a team had to sing "Father and mother are not as good as Chairman Mao".I wrote in my diary at the time: "'Peak' is just a synonym for religion. In fact, all religious ceremonies are available: prayer, confession, hymn singing, scripture chanting..." Public resistance was impossible, but I really think it's stupid to participate in such activities, so I slack off and pretend to be slow, and by the time I get there, the ceremony is usually over.

In the face of such an environment, there are two common manifestations among students.One is to adapt to the environment proactively and quickly, and be completely revolutionary in those mechanical things.A classmate who works as a breeder even tasted pig food in person to express his love for pig raising.Dung is fragrant - this has almost become an unquestionable truth, and people use this to prove that their feelings, including their sense of smell, have been completely laborious.Of course, like all unnatural extremes, there is a strong utilitarian purpose behind these behaviors.More people quickly become vulgar realists, spurning all ideals, and the only major thing they talk about and think about all day is getting a wife and having children.Someone said to me: "What's the use of ideals and careers? It's not the same as staying in the countryside for a lifetime." Although I can't see the future, I still believe in idealism.I replied: No, the meaning of life is not determined by the environment, but by the state of mind.The same living environment, different mental state, the meaning of life is completely different.Although ideals cannot become reality, they still have a role to give reality a direction and character.To people, my incongruity with the environment was very glaring.Well-meaning people felt sorry for me, and advised me to learn a little philosophy of life, so that my experience could be commensurate with my talents.One day, a classmate stared at me for a long time and said, "I express sympathy and regret for your whole life, from the past to the present to the future." Another classmate predicted: "In the future, you will either rise to the sky, or you will face disaster. I will not live and die like ordinary people." Even the honest deputy company commander advised me to learn to adapt to the environment, otherwise I will not be able to use my great skills.

Finally, in mid-March 1970, we left the farm and went to our respective places of work.Although I look forward to this day day and night, but when this day comes, I still feel confused.The passenger ship was sailing on the vast lake, and the small corner of land in the distance, the piece of land on which we had sweated, gradually blurred and disappeared.Surrounded by vast lakes, the water and the sky are the same color.I stood on the deck with the two classmates who had traveled to Juzizhoutou together. They also went to Guangxi. We leaned against the railing and remained silent for a long time, each thinking about our own concerns. "Let life be arranged by the party—how should I understand this sentence?" said one of them. "I've gone in, can I still come out?" The other one seemed to be talking to himself.I stared at the looming white sails on the lake. Like kites, they floated gently from the distant sky, slid across the lake in front of me, and then floated gently to the sky on the other side.I have been silent, do not know what to say.Finally, I found a small dot on the map that marked the name of the place I was going to, maybe I will live there forever.In fact, I don't care much about where I go or what kind of occupation I take. What worries me is what kind of crowd I will be in.A sympathizer once asked me half-jokingly: "What's the use of your poems down here?" Yes, what's the use of my poems, my heart, everything I cherish?