Chapter 58 11. The Stopped Years

In the twilight and drizzle, the mountains are hazy, and the Zijiang River flows northward silently.How many evenings, I stood on the bridge, leaning on the bridge railing, staring blankly at the distant place full of clouds and mist.Day after day, I live the same life here.Year after year, Zijiang just flowed like this, taking away the years of my life.In this small mountainous county, the years seem to have stopped, and the development of history is only manifested as the flipping of the calendar. The eyes and ears have become superfluous organs, and they exist only to prove that nothing can be seen or heard here. .

I am a person who likes silence, but I can't help being afraid of the excessive silence here.Especially before Minzi was transferred, the life of living alone was really difficult.At night, in the deserted room, I was restless like a trapped animal.I sat at the desk, the wind creaked the windows.The boundless sea-like night surrounds my house, and flows in through the windows and cracks in the door, filling the room and drowning me.I struggled, wanted to escape, wanted to shout, but in the end I was just walking back and forth in the room.The desolate air is like carbon dioxide, which is inhaled into the lungs, enters the heart and blood, and is suffocating.It is difficult for a person to work hard when he is lonely, his heart is empty, and he does not know what to do.Let's go to bed, but what I see on that bed is also the word loneliness.Write to my friends and tell them about my loneliness, but I can't write a single word on the letter paper.Loneliness is like emptiness, which cannot and cannot be written.

What really makes me sad is wasted years.Lying in bed at night, every time I think about it, tears often flow down my face.I asked myself: am I a mineral, buried here for a long time, waiting for someone to mine it? A man and a woman came along the road. The man wore a pair of glasses with profound myopia and carried a bag of rice on his shoulder. His face was pale and he was walking panting. The woman followed behind with a broken schoolbag and a bottle of cooking oil in her hand.Is this me and my wife?Shall we just go on like this until we get old? The scenery in the countryside is beautiful, but I still can't help but feel emotional and feel sorry for myself.I stood on a hillside with pine needles and ferns at my feet and trees all around me.In front of the eyes, among the vast valleys, there is a sea of ​​clouds, like frozen waves.The sun came out and suddenly dyed the mountains and clouds red.how beautiful it is.However, I suddenly discovered that a clear stream was flowing silently among the mountains, shining like tears, and finally disappeared into the mountains again.There was a sadness in my heart: Isn't the stream of my life also like this?A person's life course is like a small stream, which can be diverted when it encounters a stone.

A few years ago, my heart was full of hope, there were still many rainbows in my sky, and I believed that my life and career had not yet begun.Now, when I open and close my eyes, I can only see a plain road. I feel as if my life and career are gone forever.I'm not living at all, I'm just continuing life mechanically, poor life!I can't imagine that I was once a bright kid full of curiosity, but I only got such a bleak life.life?No, it's too cruel, and I won't believe it until I die. These words are actually excerpted from my diary at that time.There is a passage that best expresses how strongly I feel the pain of wasted years: "Sitting in a crowded bus, I suddenly feel that I don't know since when, and I don't even exist anymore. I forgot. Today there was a person who squeezed into the bus from the county seat and got off at Zhongfeng, in order to give lectures to some farmers. This person is me. However, this person may not be me, but anyone else, anyway. Same. In short, anyone exists, but it is not necessarily me.” Just like that, wasting is wasting, because in these passing years, one’s self does not exist.If there is no self in the first place, it’s fine, I won’t feel anything about it, but I am a person with a lot of self. Once I clearly observe this life without self, how can I not feel hopeless.

I never miss the hustle and bustle of the city since I was a child. What I really fear in my heart is not loneliness, but that I will be assimilated by the poor environment.What I crave most are books and people, and these are the only things I want from life. As long as I have enough books and companions of equal intelligence, I can live anywhere.However, here both are missing.I am worried that if things go on like this, without spiritual motivation, neither action force nor reaction force, I will become mediocre and stupid.Some college students at the grassroots level have indeed been like this. The vast living world and knowledge field of human beings will never be relevant to them. They just want to live as they see them.No, they didn't even think about it, they just lived like this in fact.Hope, then disappointment, then forget hope, and finally forget even the disappointment you once had, and spend the rest of your life numbly. Isn't this the life trajectory of many people?This is a warning for me.I can't stand loneliness, but I can't stand vulgarity even more.I said to myself, what is terrible is not staying in a small place, but demanding myself by the standards of a small place.Well, well, even if I am buried, I will never allow myself to be scrapped.