Chapter 2 One Electric Dew Bubble

It's time to record something.Records keep people sane.The characters in the novel being written are intertwined and isolated from each other. Does it make me excited and weak, as if it is about to shine.Sleep and food were suppressed, and I returned to my twenty-five-year-old weight again.I don't have enough time. I started traveling with the characters in the book, without considering each other's time levels.Parallel, cross, or intermittently.What matters is that we set off together.In this book, the first thing to get is its structure, followed by the imagery.The details in the book are like movie shots, and scenes emerge in the dark.As if they had happened in memory.I'm not interested in trying to force a story or a character.To me, they are generally just "tools".Serving only for "expression".

This approach may be closer to prose or poetry writing.What is fascinating about the novel is that it can shape and establish a world that is self-enclosed and infinitely extended.a new world.A world that doesn't exist. (The strong fascination is like the irreplaceable flourishing of desire.) Therefore, it can be done alone and addicted for a long time.Continue to deepen and continue to complete.This is the preferred mode of work. Writing a book is like painting a peony, shaping a piece of porcelain, or weaving a piece of brocade.Individual existence is fleeting, but fleeting.Matter sometimes lasts longer than a person's life, and can wear water through rocks.In the fragile disintegration of the world, material specimens can be circulated in a stable manner.The physical body finds the possibility, and uses the trek of the soul as a ferry to row across the vast river in the world. (Creating in this way should just be the way life is spent. It is not a goal.)

Finish writing, this is what you are doing right now.Moments in duration.Work alone in the room, day to night, night to day.so what.The job certainly required physical strength and fitness, but at times there was only a faint sense of tenacity.Like an unusually bright blue flame before the gas is exhausted.Remind yourself, try to concentrate on taking on the work, and take care of and love important people in time.Learn not to care about trivial things, trivial conclusions.I hope that time will temper a kind of sufficient purity and go forward with it. "Life is a kind of preparation for death, a kind of training." If life is recognized as a tool and means to accomplish tasks, then this subversive awareness will make people understand the importance of everything in the world. sex, for a new understanding and sorting.

Insomnia until four o'clock in the morning today.Insomnia makes people see their own morbidity, just like the monster soaked in the potion mentioned at the end, which was thought to have been updated, but at this moment it is revealed.The embarrassment caused by insomnia drives people to the edge of memory.During the day, people try their best to unburden themselves, use work, entertainment and social activities as various anesthetics, and get the illusion of cleanliness and firmness in body and mind.Insomnia is filthy.Like a viscous liquid oozing out, the body and mind drenches to reveal its weight.The ego is now stubbornly jumping out and making temptations.Once fired up, face to fight with it.Mutual exchange.It's hard to resist.

The question that comes to mind is that after so many people have liked, been liked, loved, and been loved, their actions and words have receded like a tide, leaving no trace on the surface of the flesh.Only the consciousness and memory accumulated in the moments of meeting and getting along with each other, like a faint echo in an empty valley, oscillates in the depths of my heart.I don't think they will go away.They are just waiting to be absorbed. The result of emotion is ultimately a kind of rationality.It is human nature that does not have enough nostalgia, or the old shell that has been forcibly discarded by the progressive life.We are more ruthless and objective than we think.Humans are also weak and isolated.Not leaning on.Even if it's just a memory.The back of memory is still empty.The act is cleaned up so cleanly.Time leaves nostalgia in vain.

The memory structure becomes part of the physical and mental flesh and blood.Solid, continuous, until it tends to be cold and silent.Only writing makes it come alive, stand out, dissolve, flow.Writing activates memory.Memory feeds on writing. This winter, for me, means standing still, observing, distinguishing, and collecting.The heart sinks to the bottom of the sea, and darkness keeps its secrets.You can vaguely distinguish light spots floating in the distance, carefully hold your breath and wait and see.Stay in the dark and feed on it.Waiting for the moment when I jumped out of the sea with all my strength and was smashed by the sun.The growing season will start next spring.

Before the arrival of spring, it is unavoidable to be a little decadent.Closed work, occasional sleep, occasional appointments with people, reading, walking, hiding and depression, cleaning the inner space every day.To pass the days in an indescribable chaos and lucidity. Sometimes I feel that time is not an isolated process.Human beings' definition of time is only based on their own imagination and speculation.Is it an infinitely expanding plane, or a spiraling passage?The flow of time is so profound and indescribable, we are in it, like water droplets in the sea, how can we describe the existence that we cannot "see" and "isolate".

Because of ignorance, man has free imagination.For this reason, time is not an isolated progression for me. I guess the past is just missing, placed in the smooth and open interface of time, packaged and listed in some unreachable dimension.But even if I could go back and reach for them again, I don't want to go back.Don't even try to open them one by one.No entanglement, no sticking, no playing, no aftertaste.The meaning of the past is fulfilled in the present of each passing moment. Just like at this moment, writing to me is a process of packing and putting aside memories one by one.Throw them into the silent blood of the body.Throw it into the flowing water that never stops changing.

Apart from writing, there is no other more rational and thorough way to organize and clear. I love watching people's hands.The hands with blue veins protruding slightly on the backs of both hands looked really beautiful.No matter male or female. Always look at your own hands, and those of the men and women you love.The cup they had touched, in a forceful way, reached out to me to try to connect.The contours and skin of the fingers.In the hot summer, in a hotel room, fingers caressed the back, recognizing the inquiry and tenderness conveyed therein.Almost fell asleep in silence. Every spring, I would be tempted to take a train to Luoyang to see peonies.But in fact it never happened.Perhaps, the idea kept in my heart is not the peony in the end, but a road that can be reached in fantasy.I fantasize about the peonies that bloom every spring in Luoyang, and want to take a car to watch them.But it's okay to allow that wish to never materialize.

Eros is a trainable and improved ability.Eros is still the deepest illusion (and it's one of the themes).Sometimes it seems radical and courageous, as if it is being realized and pushed, but it is just a deep dive into the abyss.It is not so much that we long for love as it is that we want to gain strong practical feelings in it. He came to visit me.Before saying goodbye, I sat side by side in the twilight, watching the teenagers playing basketball in the park, and the sky gradually darkened.Walking up the hillside, he picked off a branch of iris and handed it to me.This purple flower is good for viewing alone.Even if the group lives lively and vigorously, it also shows unruly and uninhibited.A thin crescent moon floated in the sky.Smoke your last cigarette.

Everything will come to an end.There is no room in the remnant. "The night is still, the water is cold and the fish don't eat, and the boat is full and empty, and the moon is returning home. Just when the night is quiet and people are deep, the sky and the earth are clear for a while, and what is the Tao?" In the evening, continue to read Song Dynasty Zen. Get up early to take pictures of flowers in the garden.White lilacs are in full bloom, begonias, peach blossoms, cherry blossoms, and magnolias are close to decay, irises are bursting out of buds, and roses are sprouting branches and leaves.The flowering period is methodical and orderly, everything is appropriate and reasonable.Order means that all things have a time of beginning, a time of rise and fall, a time of end, and a time of rebirth.This can't help but be reassuring. One night, I told myself that I could only be sad once. Prayers flow from the heart and they will all come true.Heaven gives what it thinks is right, and never makes mistakes.Those moments of prayer in the dark before falling asleep have a purity and power that cannot be expressed in words nor reveal its depth.It enters every crevice of the body and mind, wrapping and condensing with flesh and blood.Mind and will glow, as if they have existed for too long. Ten years ago, I arrived in Beijing from Shanghai with an overweight suitcase.In the box are some important books, some clothes that I often wear, and old dolls from my childhood.There have been several turbulent migrations before, and I never thought of living in the north.I am used to the food in the south of the Yangtze River. Its rainy season is humid, rich and has four distinct seasons.But the torrent of fate naturally carries people to distant places, like seeds floating in the water and cannot help themselves.Take root and sprout on the docked shore.After flowering and fruiting, the seeds are still sprinkled in the water. People who are on the road, no matter where they are, as long as they unload their luggage and temporarily settle down, they can regard the land under their feet as their home.If you leave, go, this place becomes a marker on the map again.I never felt like I belonged somewhere.I am a person who has no concept of "home".Any other notion of belonging doesn't make sense to me either.In my heart, this world is not too closely or deeply connected with me.As if he knew early on that he was just visiting by chance. Therefore, even if you plant branches and leaves in a piece of soil, if necessary, you will still dig up the roots buried deep in the soil one by one by yourself.I never believe in the so-called return of fallen leaves to their roots, nor will I follow them.People can die anywhere no one knows.This is the loneliness and hardness of fate. A city that is not walkable also means it is not livable.The endless loop.The eardrums vibrate the sound of passing cars, and the air is full of dust.Fractured and unformable in a mechanical world.The diaphragm is heavy.Fight and obey.Walking through the windy subway passage, there are beggars and homeless people on one side, and gorgeous advertisements on the other, full of goods, prosperity, fashion, transactions, stars, and entertainment. A world where spirit and matter are out of balance.The flesh lives in the narrow gap.In the carriages of Line 1, the stranger's warm hair and skin, and layers of smell converged into a turbid and scalding river.The crowd is doing nothing with their mobile phones, or clutching all kinds of luggage in their hands.Games and news dance on the illuminated screen.Someone starts to fall asleep.Someone brought out food.unspeakable situation.Each blocked past and future.This moment is whizzing by. If we believe that the world is composed of categories, doctrines, slogans, and concepts, then the relationship between this "world" and us is undoubtedly false and painful. Meet with M in the afternoon. The procedure is always the same.Drink tea at a regular coffee shop first, and then go to a restaurant of his choice for dinner.This small western restaurant next to Lama Temple is located in a hidden place, and I haven't been here for a long time.I have known him for ten years. He talked to me about his recent discomfort, his change of views on work, what he was doing and some questions.Meetings are always discussing, most of the time he talks and I listen, and it has not changed for many years.Will it still be like this when we are old with each other?It was as if we were becoming true friends in a sense.Neutrality, rationality, and intelligence, these three points are gradually becoming the whole of the relationship.And these were not clear at the beginning of the acquaintance. I saw that he had changed from a violent and unstable man to a vegetarian who is slightly disgusted now, and I felt that I was probably undergoing such a change.It's like a mirror of each other. Lovers or friends in their twenties are mostly of the same age or younger than themselves.After the age of thirty, I have in-depth contacts with people who are much older, some with a difference of more than ten years.With them, I feel that the communication is smooth. He said that suicide is forbidden in religion and should be punished.One cannot escape being responsible for one's own life, one has to pay it back clearly, even though everyone knows that escaping is the easiest thing to do.When people ask themselves whether they have the courage to commit suicide, they are actually asking for the courage to escape.In a prison where many people are serving their sentences, you decide to escape.But where can you escape in the end.After escaping, is it complete freedom, or a longer punishment after being caught.An important standpoint around questions of life and death remains our perception of time.That is, does the end of one thing represent an end, or does it represent a start again. He told me that writing and loneliness are your fundamental situation.Remember this.Any other games and forms don't matter, they have no power over you in the end. He said, be kind to yourself, let go and dissolve the accumulated trauma inside.They make you heavy and not light enough to keep washing.I said, I seem to see everything in front of you.He said that people have many facets, and it is impossible to see all of them.You have always been a riddle without an answer to me.But your puzzle is beautifully worded. He treats people well and will remember them again.This is his advantage. People who were once rigid and unthinkable have gradually become simple, light and ordinary in the tempering of time.This rule has been confirmed by many people.Life is cut and simplified, and the heart is clarified and defined.The world is gradually becoming another look. If there is no matching, it is not in vain.Euphemistic and gloomy, speechless. Walk through the subway passage and return to the surface.Light a cigarette.The cold wind makes the eyes clear. So trivial and harsh.And so normal and natural. Once aware of the problems in life that need to be confronted and dealt with, they will rise like rocks.It is no longer possible to anesthetize and cover up worldly pleasures or delusions, even if they are surging.These indestructible problems are the only things that matter to man.That is to seek the solution of self. Intermittent periods of depressed mood.Just like a sore throat and a headache, it is something that must be endured.It is also something that can definitely be endured to the end.Emotions rise, like a wild beast, circling back and forth, jumping to attack, trying to swallow people.In it one perceives anger, violence, a repressed sense of grievance and a deep lack.Confronting it requires extreme caution.This beast has been entrenched for a long time and needs to be appeased from time to time.Woke up again.Everything happens for a reason. When it strikes, keep an eye on it.The heart continues to be weak, chaotic, greedy, calm, clean, hard, and open.This replacement time is getting shorter and shorter.The clearing that the heart needs cannot be stopped for a moment. Endure like a disease, endure the dark feelings that come from time to time. Every attack feels weak.This weakness also reminds me that being aware and bearing is a weightlifting process.When a person can lift an increased weight each time than the previous one, this is training.People will eventually accept and understand all the things that happened in this world that were unreasonable and unacceptable. Watch it and see how it comes to rest and goes back to its corner again.Contain the power of resistance in the body and tame it.Many things are reincarnated repeatedly, and the law can be found out.Finally know its trajectory, understand its origin, trend, change, and result. The difficulty of the heart is to fight against oneself. morning dream.Elevators on the tenth, twentieth, and eightieth floors.The person behind said that they could stop on the tenth floor or the twentieth floor, probably to have lunch.Wanted to be with them, but got into the elevator alone, and pressed the 80th floor.In previous dreams, I was also in the elevator.The fast-rising elevator, dark, claustrophobic, and slightly shaking, extends to the endless sky.Sometimes straight ladders on exposed construction sites.But this time it's closed. Accept the truth.Every human being has its flaws. Activism is a rationality.People are sometimes destroyed by their own sensibility because reason is powerful, but it is not something that can bring comfort. Sometimes repression secretly breeds a sensitivity and courage. Go to live in an ancient city.The field of broad beans in the flowering period in spring sits on the ridge of the field.Sometimes the sun is so strong that the eyes glow with gold, and sometimes thick clouds pass by and cool and huge raindrops fall.As the wind blows, the green leaves of the crops are pushed forward like waves, the light changes, and there is a rustling sound.The spectacle is so mesmerizing that one can watch it for hours without getting tired.There are also those familiar rays, sprinkled in the sea, sprinkled on the villages among the mountains, bunches of them, quiet and strong. In the evening, I ate alone in a small roadside restaurant, with bacon, wind liver, and smoked sausage hanging under the eaves.Homemade plum wine in large glass jars.The noisy crowd gradually disappeared. The chefs and waiters finished their work and sat around watching TV and gossiping.Outside the window, a light rain began to fall, gradually becoming denser.Thick clouds drifted across the sky.Wine, even if drunk alone, warms the whole body and burns the heart.After drinking the remaining wine in the glass, he paid the bill and walked out of the store. The cold rain hit his face, and his steps staggered slightly.The apricot blossom trees on the side of the road are pink and white, and the clusters of flowers are in full bloom.At the top of the ramp are towering mountains.In an instant, the gongs and drums rested for a lifetime, and I don't know where my hometown is.It is inevitable to be suddenly alert at the moment, the body is thrown into this impermanent world, but the soul is a stranger who has been on the road. "People would rather be alone than die. Otherwise, why should we fight against the one we love, ignore the current things, and yearn for everything that is out of reach..." In the stuffy cabin of the long-distance flight, the movie was recreated Read it again.In the works that I feel, although what I see are other people's stories, what I see seems to be my own life.All shadows, breaths, structures and details, so similar.As a result, sometimes there is a kind of weakness and hatred in my heart. (Perhaps subconsciously, people don't like others to speak their hearts. You think you are unique, but you are not.) once.No matter where, when, always feel that I am a lonely person.No one else, as if always alone.Life may be filled with some details, but in the end it is washed and taken away by running water, leaving a rock-like situation.All the facts are still reflected in a simple and powerful way after the scattered launch. How empty and heavy is the intangible and vast experience that has been put on hold in us. He asked me what kind of relationship I wanted if I got a partner.I say care, responsibility, protection, security.Other people's answers may be different, such as doting, relying on, possessing or pleasing each other.The feeling of these words is very foreign to me. As a child, my parents rarely took me to the cinema, playground or small park.We rarely eat lively and intimately in restaurants.They only asked me if I was happy in my heart, but if I was worried, they rarely gave me gifts.When it came to girlhood, even communication was lost.Sometimes nothing is said for days.After being in such a mode and atmosphere for a long time, I will gradually feel that the reality accepted in this way is normal. Just like a scar, it is no longer a natural tissue, it is an ugly thing protruding and protruding, just for protection and covering, but people carry it and slowly become a whole with it.If man lives long in the shadow of a certain lack, he will eventually become a part of the shadow.The longing and shame for self-esteem and emotion, I am used to not being obtained, I feel that I should not have it by nature. Around the age of sixteen, I felt that I could leave this house and go anywhere.There is a kind of rigidity and blockage in my heart, which made me unable to understand the inner nature of love when I was in my teens and twenties, but I had a greedy need for it.Become a woman who has only a sense of lack of emotion but no longing.How to get emotion from others, how to enjoy it, I have no idea.Occasionally, when others give, I feel uneasy.Because I'm not used to it, I don't know its nature.like a tree that bears no fruit. I am afraid that a little bit of giving from others will become a burden that is difficult to reciprocate.It feels like nothing lasts forever.This inner indifference is the scar.I gradually realized that the so-called human feelings are just colorful soap bubbles.Feelings are always underestimated or overestimated.Sometimes I am disappointed.Sometimes I pretend not to know about these disappointments, and eventually forget about them. After being traumatized, after carrying this paradoxically unsolvable disappointment and need for so long, I've learned that people don't need the soap bubbles of hallucinatory emotions.They will eventually break.They are more fragile than desire itself.The best way is to learn to live with the darkness and to go beyond its boundaries. After becoming an adult, reorganize the relationship with your parents and repair yourself.At this time, my father had been dead for a long time, and my mother was also getting old.Looking back at this pair of flesh-and-blood adults again, I was able to understand their place in the world.Understand that people have insurmountable difficulties with themselves and others.Understand the fragility, kindness, limitations, and powerlessness of human nature.This understanding happened, allowing me to accept my history and all that had happened. I experienced a new birth in my affection for them.And at the same time give yourself this new birth. Children need to be treated with care, to be kissed, to be hugged, to be cared for, to be encouraged.Need confirmed love and security.Being deprived of these, there are inevitably hidden holes in my heart.In this way, maybe you can become an artist, because the inner sensitivity and emotions are suppressed, and the energy collides violently, and needs to be released.But these clashes can come with sacrifices.If not undergoing effective growth and adjustment, the heart will ally itself with fragmentation and eventually be destroyed by itself. Such a person needs a more tenacious and long-term self-awareness process.It takes a lifetime of self-help and education to allow yourself to recover and heal. And if I hadn't experienced stubborn and uncertain growth, would I have changed my life pattern because of it?If my parents have a harmonious relationship, and my family often gathers for dinner, chats freely, and fully expresses love, will I be able to become a woman with stable emotions and a gentle heart, get married early, and get along with a man smoothly and grow old together.I will not be far from home.Nor will it always be a turbulent relationship with people.I know this assumption cannot be established.It's like some kind of incompatible or inappropriate relationship between me and the world that has always existed.This may be a force that cannot be resisted. The pattern in which fate occurs is an order that has long been chosen and arranged.Life is set with obstacles and passages to pass through, so that man can approach his real task.I can only start writing after all.Traveling far and being alone with me is a burden that must be accepted. There are no assumptions in our lives.What exists is the only thing allowed. Nothing happened to be wrong.They are all correct in the end. He was thirty years old when his first child was born.The previous life was displaced, like a river changing direction arbitrarily on a mountain plain, twisting back and forth.A child seems to be a kind of confirmation, making the body and mind a plant with roots in the soil, and no longer wandering alone in the world.This feeling of wandering is like petals falling in the wind in late spring, with nowhere to return and precarious.The child is a retention made for me by this real world. When pregnant, I went to do B-ultrasound, and saw that the fetus was lying in the womb, and the shape of the head and body had been separated.The appearance of bending the upper body is very innocent and secretive.But I wasn't inspired to fill up with excess maternal love.Quickly get rid of the inner discomfort, and there is no fragile emotion or too much attention to the child.But as if nothing had happened, treat him naturally and kindly.I often go out for long walks alone.Shopping in the supermarket, carrying heavy shopping bags and checking out at the counter.Even one month before being admitted to the hospital, he was still climbing mountains in the suburbs. ten months.Trapped in a strong and lonely state, pregnant with a child, alone again, disconnected from the world.A white jade bracelet.A string of white crystal old beads.Read favorite books of yesteryear.Read books, take notes, keep a journal.Eat fresh vegetables, fruits, whole grains.Go to the garden regularly to feed the stray cats.Interaction with people is almost zero.Without communication and communication with the outside world, I lost contact with all kinds of people I knew.Didn't meet them again until three years later. I might want to be deeply repaired in the process.To isolation, to a self-sufficiency never attained.Don't want to exchange, don't need to speak, so as to re-cognition and heal yourself. (But eventually I realized it only partially heals. It doesn't have the ability to completely replace the fabric of life.) For decades, the turbid, violent and directionless wandering life like big waves washes the sand, rising and falling like the tide.When I felt that I could take a rest and stop chasing the ups and downs, I found that the place where I settled was just a rock that was hit by the sea.Living after the turbulence, temporarily getting a stop at the midpoint.But all this is far from shore. Shore sometimes looks as if it doesn't exist.There is no turning back until we have a true faith in flesh and blood. When I was pregnant, I started writing a book to get through the quarantine.Comparing text to embroidery, one word and one line completes the four seasons of spring, summer, autumn and winter.Narrating hometown, childhood, parents, writing... The broken and lost fragments in the heart return one by one in the memory, and they are spliced ​​together one by one. During the day, I sit and revise manuscripts under the arbor in the garden, and the lotus in the pond is in full bloom.There are often torrential rains at dusk in summer.Place a rattan rocking chair in the hallway.Sitting there, listening to the raindrops hitting the banana leaves, tick tock.The rainbow after the rain looms.Night came late.Tuberose produces fragrant white flowers. The book, published a month before the baby was born, is titled .It is the book with the most readers in the previous ten years of writing.Give it to my daughter who will be born in October as a memorial.Then inscription to my parents.Also, no book inscription was given to anyone.For me, children, parents, these two relationships will not change.It is a relationship that must be carried until death.Simple yet powerful.Integrate into the relationship of blood and blood. Fate has repeatedly given arrangements and settings, but people cannot predict what will happen in their own lives.I am used to drifting with the flow in my life and giving my body and mind to the flowing river.In reality, everything that should happen happens in order.Unimaginable, undeniable.I have never been intimidated or retreated from this. "When something goes wrong in the path of life, it can't be undone by intellectual understanding alone. It's a pattern of life, it's in you, it's in your bones. You have to go back. If you really want to be natural, you have to seriously The old days...find it, go back, live it again. If there is something left, the only way to do it is to re-live it in your head, go back. Live it again, not just remember it. " Read a book on a plane, read passages from it.Thinking of more than ten years of writing, writing all the details and twists and turns in my heart, maybe it is this kind of life restoration.I was pushing quite hard without ever knowing I was doing it.At that moment, there were mixed feelings, and tears were shed among the people sitting in the small cabin. nightmare at night.It is unspeakably magnificent to see an empty wooden structure house with a large piece of silk satin hanging from the wooden ridge of the roof.There was a group of people standing in a dark hall listening to the scriptures, and I was among them.A tall man in brocade robes.There is a little girl with long braids hanging behind her.The girl's head was just up to his waist, her face was extremely beautiful, and she was silent.They turned their backs on me and stepped up the steps to the upper level. Sunflowers, morning glory, sow seeds, grow vigorously, and the flowers bloom in the morning and evening, often giving people the illusion that they are new every day.Because there is rest, unlike the flowers that bloom all the time, people feel persistence and fatigue, and feel the tendency to eventually decline.Flowers with rest are reliable companions, and have a closer relationship with people. Habitually stare at strangers who appear in sight.The color of their hair, skin and eye whites, scuffed nail polish, trinkets on their phones, neglected stains on their clothes, shoes, backpacks... there is an uncertain security in the air.This kind of security lies in the fact that in the vast human world, we exist silently like overgrown weeds, but each hides unfathomable stories. Whether the struggle of a person's life is worthy of sympathy.Everyone has their own struggles, and it's not up to anyone to sympathize with whom.To a higher power, it sees the struggle of man no differently than we see the scurrying of ants and flies to survive.It's just running blindly and hard, and it's just asking for the existence of a physical body.In this life, only the most important thing is to oneself, not to others.In fact, only you are responsible for your own life. Therefore, try to live as authentically and freely as possible.No violation or disappointment, no need for others to watch, let alone sympathy.Just stay true to yourself at all times. This idea comes from the title of an interview I saw in a magazine today. I don’t know if the flowers on the Su Causeway and Bai Causeway in Hangzhou are blooming or if the willow trees are green. I want to go to see a flower event alone.If the light rain hits in the afternoon and you happen to pass by the ferry, let us meet at the bridgehead where the spring willows are blowing. Breakfast was rye bread with walnut nuts, butter, hot tea.Simple foods make the body feel good. The afternoon session lasts five hours.A few sweet biscuits and sugar were eaten along the way.Next year there will be new work to be done. On the taxi home, Z, who participated in the meeting together, said to me that the works you write are too clean, you should write about pain, decadence, cruelty, and sexual desire... I said, you don’t know that I am in my twenties What did you write when you read it, but you didn't read it.I'm past that stage.The confrontation between man and environment is endless.There is pleasure in self-destruction.All depravity comes with a thrill, breaking a jar versus building and building one over a long period of time, the former allowing you to enjoy a more powerful self-delusion.feel powerful.but it is not the truth.Action should carry and rise above gravity. Having said that, he said, there is no point in erasing it.People have desires, live in desires, or die in desires.You should kill the Buddha every time you meet the Buddha, and kill the ancestors every time you meet the ancestors. To see people.Put on the sky blue linen cheongsam that I bought for a long time but has been shelving.Have a slight cold. S accompanied me to buy a camera and talked with me about her marriage for a long time.It is concluded that regardless of the nature of the relationship between men and women, some principles cannot be changed at will, and the bottom line cannot be broken.Once a breakthrough is made, it will be difficult to break through.Emotions are taboo, slack and take it for granted, at least always maintain respect, restraint, strength, appreciation and gratitude. A relationship that does not work is like old clothes that have not been ironed for a long time. They look sloppy and will eventually be discarded.New clothes look good, but new clothes will slowly become old clothes over time.How to maintain a caring heart for it is very important. She said that most of the content of life is related to sacrifice and patience. I have to give, but I can't enjoy everything.Said that after crossing the age of forty, many moods faded away, giving myself a reason to feel relieved. But I don't agree with that.Disagree with indifference in exchange for abandonment and compromise.It is too easy for people to get excuses, that is, we are too protective of ourselves, and we are not willing to let ourselves go to the edge of the cliff.Really strong and complete feelings can only come from one way, that is, to die and to be born again. Peonies are flowers that bloom very early in spring.The weather is still cold, and the buds of peony are expanding day by day, and flowers bloom in the corner of the sunny wall without knowing it.Single petals, double petals, bright colors, large and warm, the garden is full of spring.Wait for most of the other flowers to bloom, and the peonies will stay behind closed doors.The dense green leaves grow violently, and there are no more flower buds, becoming a bunch of waste grass.In order not to occupy limited space, its branches and leaves are generally cut off, leaving only the flower roots.Peonies are flowers destined to be sacrificed. It began to rain lightly in the evening. Running in the rain, the raindrops are getting heavier and heavier.No embarrassment, still maintain a constant speed.The path was empty.Bamboo leaves, cherry blossom trees, and shrubs rustled, clear and distinct. "You are a person who goes with the flow. Like a seed, drifting along the water, stopping many times. Maybe once you meet a suitable ditch, you stop and germinate. You came back many years ago. I didn't know the way. I went out to find you. I remember you. Looking at billboards alone on the street to pass the time. I don’t know if you are still in that state...Twelve years ago, I loved you seriously. Those were two important years in my life.” In the first letter L wrote to me, it mentioned seeing clouds and light and shadows on the waves of the river.The profundity and delicacy of human beings require an equal person to bear.If this internality is freely resolved, it will not become a burden.Otherwise it is a kind of cohesion and stagnation. But in the end, everyone's inner can only be enjoyed exclusively.Man cannot aspire to be understood.Sometimes the understanding of others has nothing to do with oneself.What is shared the most is usually just a more superficial aspect of the whole.From this point of view, we are indeed born alone.Even when someone gives us affection, we are still alone.Because this feeling may just be his own illusion and obsession. In the afternoon, rest on the couch in the corner of the small living room.Take a short nap for twenty minutes, get up immediately, and start working again.There are four or five green bamboos in the black pottery pot.The mottled light and shadow of bamboo branches can be seen floating on the pillow. I tried the new camera for a while, and it is probably the best feeling I have used so far, which is completely different from the past.The size and weight are also very suitable.I photographed the shadows of carnations, roses, and acacia trees that bloomed for the first time in the garden.If you don't write for a long time, your head will be jerky.Writing for a long time may not be wonderful.Writing 5,000 a day is a basic goal.The camera should be put in the bag, if you go out, you can take impromptu shots. Once you know the right way, you will know how to do it right.The work is difficult, but still maintain confidence. 当我察觉到自己，渐渐对一些过于世间化和个体性的观点和立场失去兴趣，我同时察觉到这种失去，也许是当下更需要克服的另一种观点和立场。 黄昏时跑步，天空中有非常亮的一颗星。 不知道是否是木星。 我的太婆，太公，祖母，都是老到一定年龄之后，在躺下或做某件家务事时，突然离开人世。平静而无苦痛，是一种善始善终。而祖父，父亲，叔叔，在死去之前都曾接受医疗手段对肉身的侵入，只是被侵入的时间或短或长。这种苦痛和煎熬对身边的亲人来说，也是折磨。这些目睹死亡的经历，使我一直有一种想法：人应始终保持强烈而及时地生活。 我们不知道什么时候会以什么样的方式离开这个世间。生命过程可以坎坷而用力，死亡则应平顺而安稳。生是为死亡而做的准备。 一个印第安巫师说，如果让儿童目睹一次葬礼，抚摸死人的尸体，会驯服孩子内心的浅薄与顽劣不羁。他获得了真正的灵魂的成长。死亡是最需要被学习和认识的内容。 二三十岁，人为情爱，为工作，为自身在这个世间的作为和努力而存在。四十岁之后，则应为心灵的完善和超越而活。后者的发力和承担更为沉重。这是一个全新开始。逐渐老去的人，绝非喂鱼养花忙于俗务或在广场跳健身操打太极拳，就能够做到镇定应对生命的衰竭。我在纽约格林威治村的一家印度人开的店铺里，买了一张印度尊者的照片。男子年老时肢体清瘦，白色短发，全身赤裸只裹一条白色兜裆布，眼神清澈坚毅。修行不止，施与不止。这是一个修行者生命的完成方式。 不好的事情不是死去，而是不美。 不美即代表不强烈，不真实，没有始终。生命未曾有所完尽和取得解脱。 白色衬衣只有在春夏季穿才显得清爽。而我仍喜欢穿白衬衣的男子，尤其是夏季的印度细麻，洗得微微发黄，搭在身上隐约透出形体的轮廓，着实是漫不经心的性感。白色连衣裙则只能是属于青春的信物。只有清瘦而封闭的少女才可以衬得起它。 白色蕾丝连身袜好看。白色棉袜已不适合，不再戴白色的帽子。白色埃及棉床单。珍珠耳环。此外，白色已很少用。但一直喜爱所有白色的有香气的花，例如白色铃兰、绣球、玉簪、茉莉、玉兰、栀子……白色花朵也许是一种内心拥有洁癖和理想化的象征。 泛滥的感情方式，不严格区分对象，只以获取难易作为是否进行的指标。对待不同的人，所给予的内容完全重复。是一次批量化生产之后的零售生意。润滑一些的方式，无非是让不同客户拿到这只被复制的点心盒子，产生为自己特制的幻觉。 始乱终弃。以满足欲望为前提，不管这欲望是虚荣、寂寞、爱欲、证明还是其他。这何尝不是一种乏味而肤浅的恋爱方式。无法视对方为独特个体，因此也无法获取来自对方的源泉和力量（也许这是不需要的东西。他们要的只是乐趣）。 把对方视为猎物，忽略人的内在生命，以占有和征服为目的。低级的方式决定这关系没有创造力，不具有可追索的深度。是对生命能量的贬低和浪费。 有些感情显得孤僻或沉闷，却是真正的珍贵品种。只针对某一类具体对象，需要很多条件才能生发。单纯，专注，坚定，刚硬。可以在时间里存在很久。可抵达的深度无可测量。（只有高级的感情方式，才能让卑微个体得到超越自身的可能。） 有人送来一盆兰花，说是墨兰。放在客厅，满室清幽芳香。就花的芳香而言，桂花有烟火暖气，栀子浓烈执着，茉莉略带软弱，牡丹和月季甜蜜腻人，金银花澄净但过于易得。兰花的香气清幽悠远，令人心生向往。 小时候熟悉普通的江浙兰草，跟着大人春日里去僻深山谷挖掘，觉得它是朴素而又心地高远的花草。现在兰花被开发出很多品种，有些被炒作得价格昂贵。这已远离它本意。兰花脱俗但不避世。不骄矜，却着实清高。 阅读手写来信。熄灯在暗中看窗外霓虹。雨天读书和入睡。下雪深夜与人相约咖啡店，步行前往。住在别人家里，睡他们的床，吃他们给的食物。incense.沏茶。听戏。在剧院闻到身边人衣服里的淡淡香水气味。一起牵手入睡。寒冬街道上为他俯首点燃香烟。略有些醉。 如此种种，皆为生之愉悦。 一些人喜欢故作兴奋状，五的事情，觉得有十那么多。一些人喜欢内藏自己，十的事情，觉得不过是八。我倾向后者，这样可以保持平静和后退的余裕。 他们在房间里高谈阔论，我在院子里看着三棵杏花树，抽完一根烟。心里仿佛完成了一首诗。天边晚霞已落，不如找个地方喝酒。 一年多未见的朋友从外地来北京，相约见面。他带来两条小女婴穿的布裙，聊了书、旅途、工作、画册，交流平时积累已久的想法。暮色降临，去云南餐馆吃饭。见到从无在超市里有售的石榴汁，是在新疆旅行时畅饮过的好喝的饮料。原来是店老板从新疆专门运来。即刻要了一瓶。这样的小细节足够让我愉悦很久。 之后在鼓楼附近的巷子里散步。路边槐树开出一串串白花。低垂的圆锥形花序，远望如同盏盏小灯笼。他说槐花可以吃，找了较低矮的树枝，摘下几串与我分食。那花朵洁白、脆实，小蝶形状，放在鼻端能嗅闻到沁人芳香。清爽的甜味应该来自绿色花蒂处。 他说童年时，山里的孩子把槐树花当零食吃。花期时，爬上大树摘花，分吃。我只知道杜鹃花可以吃。小时候与大人一起进山，他们砍柴，在山道上憩息，摘来杜鹃花，吃它的花瓣。一串红也可以吃，花根处的清露甜得如同蜜水。拥有过吃花朵的童年，是否也算是一种共同经历。 淡如水，相见欢。告别之后，还有余味。 所有的事情都要付出代价。安全要付出代价。不安全也要付出代价。 决定带它回家。一只描绘有饱满花瓣的蓝墨莲花的白碗，那花看起来离堕落还有些远。不用它来喝茶，用来点香。 对女人的头发气味敏感。她们用洗发水清洗头发，转身而过的空气散发淡淡芳香，仿佛触及到她们隐秘的肉身，如此亲近。男人的汗液也是如此。如果爱着一个男子，你会爱慕他每一寸肌肤所散发出来的气息。睡觉时，把头藏在他的腋下，紧紧贴着他的骨骼和皮肤。后脖的皮肤，耳朵，头发，手指，需要无限靠近才能闻到的气味。一种肉身的沉沦。 但爱之入骨最终不过是一种妄想。来源于我们与童年永久的告别和隔离，曾与母体合而为一的心存眷恋。即便相遇，相知，热爱，痴恋，人与人最终会彼此分隔。某种被迫或自发的叛逆和独立，让我们失去与对方的联合，无论是父母还是爱人。 如何能够与我们所依恋的对方成为一体而永不失散，这强烈而深沉的欲望，渴求的一端是执着，另一端是恒久的隔离和孤立。 性，最主要的目的不应是欲望宣泄，而是感受到自我存在。这光束般锐利而照耀的存在感。我们所做的一切事情，最终目的不过是为了感受自我存在。身体交融的积极性，在于迎接和融合进入身体的陌生热烈的能量。在放弃控制的同时，获得与宇宙的深邃合而为一的可能性。这种接纳感充满平静，并令人心生感激。 脆弱、渴望、液体、融合，都是珍贵的东西。很难被轻易得到。超越自身，踮起脚尖，试图去触摸一处高远的存在。那个踮起脚尖的动作，是重要的。 用肉体去记忆一个人，远比用语言、理性、文字、情感，去记忆一个人，要鲜明得多。后者是沙滩上的城堡，即使庞大，璀璨，却一哄而散。肉体像匕首。说了许多，想象了许多，衍生了许多，追究了许多，只是对镜映照。很久之后，我们淡忘了互诉衷肠的人。而那个尝试用全部身心去叫醒和摧毁我们的人，却被时间推到前面。 他像一把匕首一样牢固。用他的肉体，对你说，我曾经这样爱过你。 街上露天咖啡座。极为标致的年轻女子。皮肤、身材、装扮都在其次，吸引我的，是她举手招出租车时露出未剔除干净的细微腋毛痕迹。还有赤裸手臂上几处花瓣形状的牛痘印记。这是她身上强烈的部分。如同进入一个陌生人的家里，未进入布置妥当的客厅，却先贸然闯入还未收拾干净的卫生间。 公寓电梯里很少碰到其他人，空气中常有气味各异的香水芬芳停留。这些来源不清的香气，使人产生一种想象。仿佛不可得到的带有憧憬的爱恋之心。 清明若在古代，除了祭扫便是游玩。头上戴杨柳枝编就的花环，倾城出动，划舟，荡秋千，踏青，放风筝……尽享春光。日暮入夜，提着灯笼归家。这种种天真丰盛，不复返的春梦一场。 清明是一年中很显重要的节气。山中扫墓，山谷里杜鹃花一簇一簇开得耀眼，竹林里春笋开始挖掘。扫墓的人，攀折一大把杜鹃花回来。有所哀思的日子，充溢一股莫名的赏玩嬉戏的气氛。也许春光太过完好，天地的无情远胜过人间微渺的生死。 每年春天，顺便去一个江南城市看花，已成为生活的某种仪式。偶尔与人结伴而行，多数独自前往。到了后来，不再思考是否能够找到谁一起去看花，只是随性而往。有人出现陪伴一程，那是额外的礼物。它从来不是理所当然。 今年约了与母亲一起旅行。 晚上与M一起去看小剧场话剧。剧本内容发生在何时何地，与哪种背景有关，某个演员台词是否说清楚，故事是否像个段落，动用了几类多媒体组合……诸如此类，形式的表达对我这样的业余观众来说，完全次要。我只关心它试图表达什么。即它最终说了一些什么。 在艺术施与受的方式上，人与人之间取向不同，也不必趋同。导演是让人欣赏的工作者，充满清新活力，对戏剧有虔诚。艺术创作要得到的不是认同，只是表达。发乎本心做完一件事情，即是完尽。 走出街巷，背后一对年轻情侣讨论之后去何处夜宵。语言生辣活泼，比台词不知精彩多少。生活充满戏剧感的片段，只是置身其中的人不自知。 简单的午餐，她穿了温润艳丽的织锦旗袍来与我相见，并提早静静等在大厅。出于自身骄傲而不需要呼应的慎重，不禁让人为之倾慕。戴一对孔雀毛点蓝的古老耳环。送给我自己印制的王羲之字体的。 万人如海一身藏。当下的心安。 与六十岁母亲的春日旅行。她有过着意打扮。略烫了波浪的长发，开司米上衣，羊毛薄裙，拎一只小巧的皮包。并且化了妆。他们这种年龄的人，对于出行、拍照、相聚、仪式这样的事情，有出自天性的隆重感。出于一直在小城生活的实用心态，她选择了一双极不协调的白色运动鞋。为火车上两个多小时的路程，准备出一个简易袋子，里面装满水果和零食。 如在以往，我会要求她换上皮鞋，把运动鞋放在我的箱子里。再说服她把那一堆零食从袋子里取出。我不吃零食，孩子也不吃，旅途最好行李轻省。如果她不同意，我也许会如同少女时发作小小脾气。但现今，我学习纵容她，接受她做自己喜欢的事。因此，只是默默看了一眼她的运动鞋，伸手取过简易袋子挂在拉杆箱上。 火车站人很多。拖着箱子走在前面，母亲拉着孩子的手走在后面。终于落定。孩子坐在窗边，我坐中间，母亲喜欢过道的位置。火车飞驰，窗外掠过空旷田野、绿色山峦、村落、河流。熟悉的江南郊外风景。过往如同前生的事，被隔离在时光背后。如同此刻透过玻璃看到的层层斑斓而隐约的风景。火车提速开动之后，她们入睡。 抵达杭州站。出租车候车处，拥挤的候车人流堵满通道。按照这样的速度，轮到上车约需一个多小时。母亲和孩子都很安静。我在几分钟后做出打黑车的决定，只为带她们快速离开这里。火车站里逼仄混浊的气氛，推来搡去的人群，使我有压力。我不愿意让身边这两个女人陷落困境。 索要高价的黑车，只开了一小段路，把我们送到湖边预定好的酒店。母亲对昂贵房价介意，表达方式则采用贬抑和抱怨。走进酒店大堂，开始嘟哝，说没有她以前出差住过的三星级酒店好，不值这么高价格……总之，这些话明显带有情绪，缺乏公正。我以听而不闻的忽略态度面对。 我希望她以坦然的态度，接受小辈力所能及的小小提供。但显然一贯节俭的母亲失却心理平衡。她使用自己的方式重新构建平衡。 房间舒适。已是黄昏，稍作休息。 去一家熟悉的餐厅吃饭。路上有雨。抵达餐厅，要了店家自己泡制的青梅烧酒，与母亲对分。孩子摆弄桌上的小碗勺子，丁丁当当玩耍。母亲坐在对面，容色有些消沉。某种孤寂如同爬藤悄悄攀上她的内心。我有敏锐的察觉，但决定忽略，如同忽略她不相衬的运动鞋，缺乏公正的抱怨，忽略孩子玩耍发出的任性声响。保持沉默，喝下杯子里剩余的酒。 饭毕，母亲坚持把剩余的菜吃掉。走出餐厅，在路边给孩子买了一个氢气球。孩子兴高采烈地牵着它，但很快，不小心放松绳索，气球兀自远去。我们三个站在街边，抬头看着它慢慢飞出树梢深处，飞向湖中。 湖边一处木结构平台，晚上自发的舞会。有人放出音乐，人群跳起交谊舞。母亲跃跃欲试，说这个舞步她也会。我说，你去跳。她略带羞涩，推搪一番，才把手中的拎包递给我，脱下外套，即刻身形灵敏汇入人群中。很快放开自己，神情自如地跳起舞来。夜色中的西湖灯火阑珊，山影起伏。空气中有树叶的香气，水波的腥味。幼小女童无所禁忌，不等大人指令，早已天真烂漫挤入人群，一边发出咯咯笑声。清脆的笑声仿佛会把空气撞碎。 我等在旁边，手里抱着母亲的包和外套。看着她们两个尽情玩耍，一时有些恍惚，眼角渗出泪水来。这个老去的女人是母亲。这个生长的孩童是女儿。 母亲这时转身回来，说要回去休息。她已觉疲倦。孩子活力充沛，恋恋不舍，仍顺从跟随大人离开。沿着湖边小径，走向不远处的酒店。樱花树已开到花期末端，累累花枝，花朵即将折堕。白色花朵在幽幽灯光下发出光芒来，压弯的枝条俯向夜色中的湖面。 清晨早起。想走去室外喝杯热茶，呼吸新鲜空气。母亲换上丝质长袖衬衣，搭配珍珠项链。那双白色运动鞋仍不相衬，但她执意服从对舒适的需要。女童兴高采烈戴上纱质大蝴蝶结发箍。一老一小，手拉手走在绿树成荫的湖边青石板路上。 湖边一家早早开门的咖啡店。挑选面包，给孩子要了橙汁，给母亲点热豆奶和鸡肉沙拉。 整个咖啡店只有我们一桌客人。之后又进来三人，也是母亲，女儿，小孩，一模一样的组合。看样子这个形式很常见，三个女人一起出门旅行。母亲示意我把放在椅子上的包递给她，这样可以给坐在旁边桌子的她们让出一把椅子。她照例把食物全部吃干净。走出咖啡店，决定坐绕湖的旅行车。 这是轻省普遍的旅行者路线。坐车，中午在楼外楼吃饭，点西湖醋鱼和莼菜汤。回返时打不到车，孩子却熟睡。我抱着她等在路边，母亲替我去拦车。下午去湖里坐船。黄昏时抵达杨公堤，此时再无办法打到任何一辆出租车。只能在路边上了公车，先让它把我们带到武林广场，再想办法打车回酒店。 困境无疑总是会出现。公车上孩子再次入睡。她长得结实，抱着她很重，只能勉力支撑。这样的时刻母亲已无法帮助我，我现在连一只重包都不让她拎。下了公车，穿过大马路的天桥。这一段路程我格外吃力，一直保持默默无语。沉默使我觉得放松。 回到酒店休息。母亲习惯仰睡，换上棉质睡裙，垂落下长发。从小在海边山村里长大的母亲，身体健壮，头发依旧浓黑茂盛。我默默观望她。她手和腿的轮廓，她的身形，面容，头发。小时候看母亲在镜子前梳头发。她极爱梳头。她做了旗袍穿。她爱佩戴首饰。她的确是一个给女儿做了榜样的母亲。哪怕在感情百无聊赖的时候，她也在梳妆。 年轻时她是勤力而爱美的女子，享受俗世内容，饱满的烟火气息。现在成为手上皮肤日益收缩乏力的妇人。 父亲去世之后，寡居十年。但也许从二十岁结婚起，她就沉浸在孤独之中。与父亲不和睦，相处时多冲突。她用工作、劳作、坚韧和乐观，对抗自己的命运。但这孤独并未改变。我曾问她，是否需要再找一个伴侣。我希望她有男子相伴。母亲说，要找到一个有情义的男人，哪里有那么简单。 骨子里她有某种刚愎自用，也很倔强。需要别人做出证明，自己才能付出真情。这种特征通常出现在用情强烈的人身上。因为他们会为自己的感情吞服种种苦头。母亲也曾说我对感情太认真。她暗示我这是一种吃力不讨好的方式，对等的人会少。 她说，大多数人无法匹配也不能承担这样重的感情。最终它会回来伤害你自己。 感情嘛，她说，还是淡一些好。淡淡的就好。 买过一件丝绸上衣送她，是她素来爱慕的紫色。江南的女人偏爱丝绸。很多年前，为了某件重要的事情，需要托人和送礼，母亲带我去百货公司，挑选昂贵的丝质衣料，一匹匹抚摸，挑选，满心欢喜，即便买的衣料是为了送予他人。母亲很少穿，最终是因为怕花钱。她有很多这种模式的行为，为避免麻烦别人或不降低自己的尊严感，违背自然的心意。这个模式也曾给予我很深影响。 区别只在于她始终坚持这个模式，而我在克服障碍之后，觉得放心把自己交予别人，让别人待自己好，也是一种美德。这是一种信任的能力。 她爱美。在一老裁缝处做过一件合身的旗袍。材质是混纺的，并非纯桑蚕丝。后来穿不下送予我，我收进樟木箱子里，一次都没穿。箱子里保存着父亲去世前穿过的汗衫、孩子穿过的尺码在变化的衣服鞋子，以及属于我自己的几件有纪念性意义的衬衣和连身裙。其中一件衬衣是走墨脱时穿过的，洗过之后还能摸到泥土的质感。衣物是贴近的信物。 买下那件昂贵而漂亮的上衣，心里想到，即便买给她，她大概也不会穿。这不过是我的情结。我总觉得女人身上最可惜的不是年老，而是被辜负被压抑的天性里的柔情和美感。 清晨母亲早早醒来，躺在微明曙光中与我闲话家常。这是她习惯的方式。在我幼小时候，她睡前醒来的聊天对象，通常是她的母亲或姐妹，现在则是成年的我。她说话绵绵密密，兜来折去，不过都是日常琐碎，不过是无事。而这言说的过程却让人心里安稳。我二十几岁离家出走之后，再未有人用这样的方式对我说过话。 孩子与外祖母在一起的时间稀少。从出生到三岁多，一年相聚一两次。母亲第一次看孩子，从机场直接赶到医院。我刚做完剖宫手术，手腕上插着输液针。她抱起孩子，哆哆嗦嗦，不知如何才是妥当，已全无经验。但那应是她觉得幸福的时刻。孩子三个月之后，我抱着孩子坐飞机回去看她。几年的断断续续，其间过程都被空间相隔和忽略。 现在这个活泼机灵的幼童，不再要求被抱着走路。大人也吃力于抱着她再多走一段。她们牵着手一起走路。 刚怀孕时，母亲对我说，生下一个孩子来，看着孩子像花骨朵般一天天长大，开放，那是十分美好的事情。后来我知道她大部分说过的话都是有道理的，都是对的。 从小对我有一些教训，比如家里没有地方给别人住，不要问客人怎么住宿。没有食物给对方吃，也不要问询对方怎么吃饭。别人对你有三分好，你要还出七分情。要给对方交代，不增加对方麻烦，尽量增益对方……种种小的事情都是必须要做的。以善意和方便给别人。这些朴素的道理她给予我，言传身教，我没有忘记。 日夜相处。吃饭，走路，睡觉，游玩。三天后分别，我跟她说，这样的旅行以后争取每年有一次。母亲高兴地应允。给她买了回去家里的高铁车票。我和孩子要去机场坐飞机回北京。早上，天气突变下起滂沱大雨。母亲本可以在酒店休憩一会再去火车站，但坚持跟随我们一起出发。 司机开到火车站附近，说无法进去，堵车要绕很久，希望母亲在路边下车，步行五分钟可到达车站。我看着大雨哗哗作响，很是担心，但也知道出租车的确无法冒险进入里面，因为会被堵塞。母亲安慰我，说，她去路边的商店购物，过一会再走去火车站，因为时间尚早。车子停在路边，她与我和孩子道别，撑开伞下车。 车子开动，我往后看玻璃窗，看到她撑伞站在马路边的身影。她穿着白色运动鞋，拎着食物已被吃掉不再显得沉重的简易袋子。没有挥手，只是一直站在那里。大雨模糊我的视线。车子很快开上了高架桥。 二十六岁，我在上海。他唯一的一次探望，带了一个司机驱车前来。我做了一顿晚饭给他吃。当时独自住在北京西路租