Chapter 3 Erhe Pavilion Listening to the Rain

The weather is getting hotter.Buy a large pot of gardenia and jasmine, put it in the shade of the living room, and smell the fragrance by the pillow when you sleep.The rain in the afternoon was loud and stopped soon.Eat cherries after a nap.There are colorful clouds in the sky at dusk.In the middle of the night, the cry of frogs is now far and near.Girls put on floral dresses one after another.Summer is here. Finished three chapters.The chapters are basically usable, and only need to organize, revise, modify the structure and add special descriptions and expositions.Sort out some information.There are a lot of text at the bottom, this part of the work can be meticulous and calm.It is still important to write the whole story.Search a location and find a lot of interesting stuff.Get to know a place.

In the afternoon, girlfriend G came to visit and brought lychees and watermelons.Have lunch and sit down.The pot for making tea is painted with blossoming wintersweet.At the bottom of the cyan cup is a small white fish with clearly carved scales.Pour a few pinches of small brown tea leaves into boiling water and pour them into a hot purple sand pot.A pot of tea is mellow and warm, from the throat to the bottom of the chest.I just feel that the branches and branches in the body are opened up and comfortable, and the whole body is soft and relaxed. Drinking a cup of tea in a small porcelain cup, I like it when we meet, and the words are not perfunctory, everything is just right.Whether the wind can grow the two armpits is the second.The weather is hot, and after changing into light clothes, I feel refreshed.

I drank three kinds of tea together, Mingyueguang, Pu'er, and Wintersweet. She took her leave at dusk and left, just to gossip. Sore shoulders and back, walking around Houhai at night.It is a walk that has not been done in a long time.Some things are done together, exuding different meanings.Dining alone and eating together, traveling alone and together, sleeping alone and sleeping together, the feelings of food, scenery and time will have different depths. Now I am no longer as keen on solo travel as I used to be.The importance of a partner is to bring openness and comparison between the two, and the rendezvous with the outside world gains more feelings through sharing and communication.A suitable partner makes the heart appear sensitive and rich.The establishment of an effective relationship makes the sense of presence stronger.When we are with those we love, our selves are sharper, lighter, stronger, and clearer.On the contrary, it is a kind of unconscious chaos and numbness.

Acting can be rehearsed.Writing can be hidden.In acting and writing, we get the opportunity to have another possibility of life.In the imaginary space, everything gets a new opportunity.Maybe meet a man who can make you laugh, have two or three children with him, listen to him whistle with leaves, and follow him to the ends of the world.You didn't know anything, but you raised your face joyfully, letting him stroke your hair and kiss the moist eyebrows and eyes that haven't gone yet.Or maybe, in a night river, put down a candle and make a silent wish in my heart.The candle went out, lit again, and drifted far away.In some moments, it was the tearful skin and vows.

This kind of dress rehearsal is staged at random times, as if it can be revised again and again, changed again and again, ended and started again and again.But you and I both know that real life never allows for rehearsals.As soon as the stage is played, the curtain is lifted, and the audience is already in the audience. Throughout our lives, we appear to be active and powerful, but we are never allowed the opportunity to choose and make decisions. Watching a classical Yuefu drama in the evening, one of the most impressive parts is the female drumming solo, with white powder on her face, expressionless and rhythmic.A solo performance by a kabuki.Overall, it's a quiet performance.Small but strong-willed.

Sitting in the theater, thinking of some people, I feel infinitely guilty and sad.It seems to be an unavoidable alienation brought about by the restriction of fate. M, like me, is a person who feels that he doesn't get along well with the outside world.The difference is that he always fights against this incompatibility, and when he talks about some people and things, he can't help but feel confrontational.I accept it all, and the discrimination disappears in the new understanding of things.When people accept their own nature, they will develop softness and ease, and will no longer be hard.But even so, it still does not mean that I have acquired the ability to blend in with the secular life and swim freely in the world.

I still feel the gap between myself and it from time to time.A sense of a certain overwhelm and out-of-place that is hidden deep inside.Inner values ​​are inevitably isolated.These emotions and feelings are fully expressed in the writing.It seems to be some kind of weak signal to this world. (Am I vaguely expecting some same but minority people to give me intercommunication after reading? Just for them to hear this voice.) In the Southern Song Dynasty Meng Yuanlao's "Tokyo Menghualu", there is a secluded passage, which is briefly mentioned in the book: it is rose spring, thousands of flowers are in full bloom, peonies, peonies, and ditang woods are on the market, and the flower sellers are arranged in horse-headed bamboo baskets. The sound of singing is clear and audible.Qinglian Jingyuan, dawn high-rise building, hangover still awake, good dream just woke up, smelling new sorrows easily, deep hatred hangs in the air, the best moment... the description of a grand occasion and beautiful scenery, becomes a half-dream and half-awakening day by day The voice of the dying song.Drifting away, lost track.

Open the yellowed pages of the book, follow Mr. Meng Yuan on the road, and enter a city that he has enjoyed for decades.From dawn to dusk, from the suburbs to the city.The seasons and rituals that rotate throughout the year, the details and layout of daily life for eating, drinking, and playing, the abundance of food, the prosperity of materials, the harmony and beauty of human feelings, and the elegance of festivity, how to explain and explain.Bianliang, Tokyo.Its richness, beauty and fireworks are preserved in a miniature and dry way under the pen of a literati with a leisurely and prodigal heart.Although no one can touch its past life.

In the Southern Song Dynasty, the situation in Bianliang was unbearable. "In the new city, there are mostly ruins, until there are plows for fields. In the old city, there are shops at the foot of the foot, and they are all just living. When you look around, you can see towering pavilions, all of which are old palaces and temples. , all decayed." A thousand years later, after being washed and buried by repeated floods, it became a wreck buried deep in the mud.The brocade silk threads on her body were broken at every root.Flesh and love are all gone.Rather than looking for a ruined ancient capital in the book, it is better to look for a ray of abandoned and destroyed civilization in it.

A friend once told me about seeing a miracle.On the mountain road, I met a clear and untouchable scene. Looking at it, my heart was at a loss, and I continued to drive on the road.Halfway, I only felt more and more worried, and turned back again.If you want to take a closer look to distinguish, the gorgeous cityscape has disappeared without a trace, leaving only a plain.When I read this book, I also felt such a sense of loss in my heart.I don't know how to stay, I don't know where my hometown is.It seems to only see the mirage world in the memory. He is a man who often goes in and out of the house to have fun, and is full of love and sensitivity to the beauty of fireworks in the world.No one knows the essence of carpe diem and candle night tour better than him.Even in the changing times and passing years, the flame in the heart cannot bear to be extinguished silently.So he decided to write a book.To be in its center and to recall a city without distraction.Densely packed, discreet and complete.Simple as childhood, empty as death.

That city became the last fantasy dream of an unruly life. Every time I walk through the garden square after the rain.On the wet grass, the dewdrops shimmered under the moonlight, and the breath seemed to reach the deepest part of the chest.In our interactions with people, we rarely get the feeling of integration and penetration.Complicated and superficial interactions are dishes with too much MSG in restaurants, customers in commercial streets, and garbage and ashes all over the place after the banquet.Evenings sometimes seem long.Wonderful. It was as if something in the body had been released and it was going away.If there is action going on, one feels tired, one feels light.The body and mind crossed the mountains alone in silence, but they didn't know it when they walked through. Whether you come or not, people wait just to make themselves quiet and powerful. Dislikes anything that brute-forces or tries to preserve.Write a letter in water.Disappears while writing.Trust the water.It knows everything, but asks no proof. Be sure to remove any human traces left in the world.Burn letters, burn diaries, delete files, empty the recycle bin, and leave without saying goodbye. I met with the editor of Taiwan Publishing Company on MSN, and talked about publishing and writing, and I raised some questions.Pushing forward has always been a challenge.The content is deep and obscure, as if you are about to start climbing a high mountain alone, and you hesitate at the foot of the mountain.I hope to write a new novel, even if it is a bit decadent and written in a rather capricious way, and I don't care whether the reader will read it or not.I just wonder if I can be the weight it should be. Don't ask too much, he said.Just keep being able to express yourself uniquely in one way.An author must accept the test in the era in which he lives.And just write it down, let those who will read it read it.There is nothing else. For more than ten years of writing, few people have given technical or psychological guidance, and everything has been explored and undertaken by myself.In essence, these works are the products of willful, imperfect.It is also because of this that you can maintain your will and vitality, and you are always on the move. A long text road, a long turnaround time, brewing, advancing, pondering, changing, time is passed.As if I could live my whole life like this.If you can use your life vigorously on a matter of concentration and respect, it may not be a kind of grace bestowed by God. Walk alone in the small park at night.The trees in the garden were shadowy, and the moon was bright.Someone was practicing drumming in the dark, and the sound of the drums was clear and hesitant. There are sharp metaphors and details everywhere.Many people don't like it, feel that they can't understand it or are not used to it. It can be seen that the more subjective and willful the author's position is, the more it challenges the reader's mind and experience.I used to think that her prose was well written, but there was always a certain stubborn and narrow emotional feature in her novels, which could not be overcome.It's just that the words are still like sharp and refined crystals, reflecting all the subtleties and darkness of human nature. In the novel, she is honest, narrating frankly, without internal judgment, and even has some kind of self-mockery.It may be that the old state of mind has the indifference to see the end. Fu Lei wrote an article to criticize Zhang Ailing, saying, "I don't blame the writers for only limiting their subject matter to issues of men and women, but after all, the world is vast beyond men and women."She does not give in and writes essays and debates, "I even write about small things between men and women. There is no war or revolution in my works. I think people are more simple when they are in love than when they are in war or revolution. , but also more unrestrained.” This dialogue shows the difference of literary gender, men’s writing tends to be a form of strong isolation from oneself (maybe it’s a kind of hypocrisy), while women are more aware of the texture of life and emotion.The latter is obviously more advanced. There was no Internet at that time, and reading and writing were formal.Even when criticizing and answering, each other is well-formed and reserved.Best-selling authors are judged poorly in their day and age.But more important than artificial evaluation is the will conveyed by the words themselves.If it's strong enough, it can break through perceptions and judgments, and transcend time. He took me to have porridge.Eat clams, rice field eels, and drink soup.Be in a good mood and babble.It started to rain, stopped again, walked for a while, and got on the subway.In the subway car, suddenly Wuyou tightly grasped my hand.Went to the bar and had a drink.It has been raining. Some people love you, but what they love may be an illusion born of you.What they love is still their own hearts.You are nothing but a tool, a vehicle.It is the fireworks of them facing each other across the shore. When people expose their true self without restraint, these downfalls, selfishness, contradictions, instincts that are difficult to show to the public... (fragileness and evil are sometimes just a kind of beauty.) Instead, they will have a new connection with each other, and they will be stronger than ever. firm.Because it is mixed with the meaning of commitment and redemption. You watch a person fall into their own brokenness and blockages, and they don't know it, you can't tell.Unable to solve the attachment of the other party in the midst of strong inertia and delusion.The ability to perceive and shatter cannot be granted. (Each is ultimately independent. Going their separate ways.) Not sure how to change that. People can only exist in their own circumstances and walk their own paths.Seek their own self-solution.Even in love, we are so alone. It is necessary to accept the unreasonable, dark and vicious content in some worldly categories.Allow it to exist.Ignoring it, not responding to it, not touching it means not watering and feeding it. Once there is difficulty, you will feel the power of resistance in your body more strongly.A kind of disobedience. Clenched the open palm that wanted everything into a fist.Only by retaining the purest will can we strike hard. Going to the classical furniture and antique market, a pile of dusty old items is like meeting each other in a lifetime. In a store that sells estimated clothes, the shelves are stacked with cheongsam clothes.Silk and satin, excellent materials and handwork, the patterns are different from the present, beautiful and elegant.People in the past were more aesthetically pleasing than people today.There are dense traces of handwork on the cheongsam.After all, the rich and the rich are down and out.was extinct.The body that had been dressed in brocade clothes was wiped out.Things created by man are always stronger than man. I asked about the source of these gorgeous old cheongsams, and they said that the old alleys in Beijing were demolished, and the old ladies took them out of the bottom of the box for disposal.There are still stains on the neckline of the Chinese dress, and there are frayed places under the armpits.At such a moment, think of Zhang.Zhang, who is wearing a cheongsam in the photo, would be an old lady if she lived to this day.Why did people with such sharp views on life not end up committing suicide?She survived solidly until she died of old age alone in the apartment. This was a little difficult to understand before.Later, I thought, maybe the indifference and forgetfulness in the world are just normal for her, not pain.Because of this, while she did not socialize with others, she was still keen on Chinese clothing and paid attention to her appearance in her later years.Her position in the world is to follow her own bottom line, and no one can disturb her.Only money is security, the only line of defense that can bring isolation from the crowd and maintain freedom. This is the truth she has understood and grasped since she was a child.People are different. ("Everyone is so dirty. As long as you touch people, you will get dirty.") Living in this world, she always draws her own boundaries. "If you don't commit suicide, you won't let those ordinary people win." Those who said this sentence paid too much attention to the perfection of the body and the arrogance of the spirit, and ended up jumping off the building to their death. After going to bed around twelve o'clock in the middle of the night, I read old novels until after two o'clock in the morning.Lack of sleep and stress, continuous weight loss.Nervousness can be exhilarating at times.Whether you want to see Kunqu opera, you need a companion. "If you want not to hurt others, the premise is not to have expectations of others." "Also don't let other people have expectations of you. The latter is more difficult. It means that in certain moments, you have to show where you really stand, without any selfish hiding or artificiality." A conversation with M today. I browsed books online for a long time and ordered some books.In the afternoon, go to Dajue Temple with M.The area around Fenghuangling is very beautiful, but I have never been there before.There are many things in life that I haven't experienced yet.The temple is small and quiet, with verdant trees.The ancient Buddha statues from the Ming and Qing Dynasties are preserved in the hall, which has the precipitation and grace of the years.There is no crowd at all inside, no fireworks, just deserted and quiet.The restaurant in the garden was noisy. I ate Shaoxing dishes.I drank white tea. On the way, M bought all the lotus pods, lotus seeds, and lotus flowers from the local street stalls, and gave me half of them when I said goodbye.I filled the lotus pods and lotus flowers with clear water, not thinking that these buds would bloom. Make several appointments in a row.Chat for a long time, six hours at a time, eight hours at a time.Tired, exhausted the words, and it seems that nothing has been said.Sometimes it is unavoidable to have doubts. The purpose of communication is to let the other party finally "hear" their own language.Or let yourself "listen" and get a few echoes from others by the way. A man should learn to pray when he is an adult.Prayer is a ritual in which man becomes a child again.Those who cannot love each other cannot love each other no matter what.To love requires understanding, and understanding is something that can only be obtained in prayer.Maybe no one really understands us.They can appreciate, fantasize, look forward to, and be disillusioned.Only understanding is always absent. Contradictions and injuries are extremely prone to occur between people.But confrontation and injury are not simply 73 and isolated, they always go hand in hand with dependence, addiction, grace, pleasure, and hallucinations.The evil of human nature is hidden in the depths, and at the same time has the sensitivity and intensity that can be triggered at the same time.The relationship between people produces all kinds of wear and tear in selfishness, prejudice, inertia, and laziness, and stimulates each other.Awareness of this changing and growing relationship needs to be maintained.Avoid getting stuck and clinging.Avoid the malignity that provokes it. Possessiveness often arises from neediness, insecurity, and desire for desire.Evil comes from attachment to this craving. A certain power demonstrates past entanglements and mistakes, and makes people aware of the trap of their own behavior and projections on others.People who are attracted to our darkness and our light may come from an inner part of us. Sometimes, our love is to please our desire to be loved; to provide others is to try to fill the inner lack of needs; to hate or attack others is to be reminded by the other party of the hidden dark place that we do not want to be revealed; resentment or mania , Connecting the weakness and powerlessness accumulated in the heart for a long time... The moths of the heart, the power to rush to fire and darkness, all come from deep illusions.The ego war is nothing but conflict in a cage. You know, showing sincerity sometimes just increases the other party's burden in vain. Children play and cry in the twilight of the garden.The young woman wears a chiffon dress, exposing her arms and legs, and her lush black hair breathes out.Beer and chat in the open-air seat, lingering.Any smell is being vigorously evaporated.The texture of desire fully expressed is a cleansing.Summer is the season of sensuality on the face and innocence on the inside. Roses are easy to grow and full of vitality. They spread around the top of the pergola wall, wandering around the world, and finally formed a thick and dense flower canopy.Lush flowering branches need to be pruned before forming buds, which is easy to be wild but difficult to tame.In its southern hometown, it has a homely name, Seven Sisters.The flowers are exuberant, sometimes seven bloom on one branch.It often blooms like clouds on the top of the wall, fragrant and fragrant, and is a common flower in old alleys. In the afternoon, buy biscuits, bread flour, cake mix, shampoo, and oranges in the supermarket.Hot and gray.Taxi jams at the third ring road.The office building is brightly lit, and people continue to work.There are faces of strangers behind the windows of buses stranded on the road.The condition of city traffic and air is so bad.Mediocre life day after day. At this time, a heavy rain fell suddenly.The strong wind blew the heavy rain into layers of water mist and poured it onto the street.The scene is spectacular.The pedestrians waiting for the bus on the side of the road were drenched, but they had a happy smile on their faces.Standing in front of the window to avoid pedestrians in small shops on the side of the road.In the cake shop, someone was drinking tea and eating cake on the window seat.A heavy rain that happens by chance creates a sense of unreality.There was a carnival-like relief for the dull people. He said, let me see your current picture.She said, no need.Recall me only with the memories in your mind. He said, if so, you can only remember what you looked like when you were young.She said, so it has always been it. Only in a relationship of love can people have the opportunity to open themselves and expose their bodies and minds.It's like returning to the dark and warm womb, being allowed to be accommodated.This is the beautiful part of love.And the other side of its load is the sensual desire to be succumbed to, the loneliness to be conquered, and the greed to be desired.Most secular relationships arise from this.What was originally looking for was a return, but in the end they regarded each other as tools.Compete for freedom and compete for dignity.Gradually it becomes a destructive relationship. Ninety-five-year-old Sister Emmanuel said: "Everyone expects to be loved in their own way, and everyone expects the other half to respond to their expectations. Therefore, many love relationships are nothing more than self-starting and returning. to one's own actions." The need for others becomes panic; the expectation of others becomes disappointment; the dependence on others becomes pain; the encroachment on others becomes imprisonment.On the contrary, tolerating others becomes tranquility; letting go of others becomes freedom; devotion to others becomes gain; compassion to others becomes forgiveness. We gain practice in this challenge of growth in the name of love but in the conflict of human nature. No relationship can be taken for granted and hurt.This includes thinking that the other party is all wrong and that all is right. Some people think that they have the power to be unreasonable and unreasonable, thinking that what they have in their hands will never dry up until the other party's patience and trust are exhausted.When we do everything in the name of love, we always feel that we can be forgiven again.Until forgiveness becomes abandonment with no room for it. Relationships need to be properly controlled and adjusted in due course.Avoid seeing the poor dagger in the picture.Unless the other party can resist and dispel your knife, and convert it into heat energy.Otherwise, don't easily show the knife in your nature.If it cuts itself, it must also damage the other. Three o'clock in the morning.In churning insomnia.stuffy.Take a bath and drink water. It's time to tidy up your closet.Get rid of all suspenders, sleeveless, punk, washed, girly, torn clothes.Instead, there are new, well-made, old-fashioned, if expensive, clothes.If you're meeting guests, at least put on some foundation and lipstick.It's a courtesy. In summer, I am used to wearing a monochromatic top with a waist-length sarong, which is a more classical orthodox style.Dresses are always a favourite.In the tailor shop, the skirt is made of fabric bought in Nepal and India. The skirt is pleated, with ruffles and a small round neck. It is the style of the skirt worn in childhood.At that time, my mother would sew embroidered flower patterns on the collar or chest. Reread old letters stored in camphor wood boxes.Yellow letter paper, words gurgling out.The strange feeling lies in the people who wrote the letters, and the words that were written seemed to be re-understood, clearly known and felt after nearly twenty years. Inside was a letter from my mother.During her business trip to the far northeast, she wrote three pieces of letter paper to me, my brother, and the aunt who took care of us at the time.The handwriting is scribbled, but every bit of it is fully implemented on the letter paper.Including eating vegetables, buying a bicycle, all kinds of instructions and care.Isn't this an important and soft part of her life.In a small hotel in a foreign land, spread the letter paper under the lamp, and write a letter to the two children and the family, conveying the inner feelings and concerns.Looking at the date on the postmark, she was thirty-six years old. When I was a teenager, we were separated and not close.My waywardness and rebellion in my teenage years gave her hard challenges and endurance. Time is of the essence.Physical evidence is important.They allow certain emotions, once clouded or ignored, to be clarified and surfaced long afterward.I also handwrite letters to the really important people in my life.Just to let him or her understand my heart someday. Many things in the world are put in the drawer in advance.Some are indifferent, looking at each other from a distance, and can't look at each other in my lifetime.Some are persistent and entangled to the end, demanding endlessly from life to death.Don't expect and wait for irrelevant people and things, they are in your own drawer.Just use all your strength to deal with the people and things that belong to you. In the hospital, the middle-aged doctor said that all pain is normal, and it is good for us.What we should pay attention to are those things that are quiet and do not feel pain, but exist.Those are usually troublesome. C came to Beijing.The two walked for a long time on the sultry, windless street and decided to eat Yunnan cuisine.After that he took me to see the lake.In the night, the great lake was sparkling, and I sat in the bushes on the bank and talked a lot.I realized that in our communication, there was an energy flowing against each other and spiraling upwards.Maybe in a previous life we ​​discussed scriptures in temples. He said that you were frustrated by your mother when you were a child, and you instinctively have a sense of distance from women, and you can't realize that you are a woman, and you can't realize your beauty.Because of this, there will be problems getting along with men.Even if they love you, they may choose to put you in a certain situation just to avoid your hurtful power.They will feel like they don't know how to deal with you. He said that you should retreat for about six months, do not write, just live in a down-to-earth way, and feel everything that is concrete and real in reality.You can't be in the world, but your heart doesn't want to enter the world, and you only use reality itself as the material for examination.You must now become one with your life.This change is not difficult and should start soon. I remember meeting him for the first time in summer.He was walking in front, a tall man, suddenly turned around to talk to me, and opened a folded paper fan in his hand to block the sun for me.While talking to me. For two nights in a row.I love Kunqu Opera.It has a kind of rigor, libretto, singing, body, gestures, walking, all have rules.This traditional and ancient rule makes it graceful, beautiful and dignified.The main instrument is the flute, which is sung in unison, melting in the air.Improvement is unnecessary.Modified parts only show light waves. It is not allowed to take children under the age of sixteen to see Kunqu Opera.It might be okay to let them sleep peacefully in the theater.This type of drama is suitable for the elderly and people with an old heart. 80 Ancient China was a noble region on the earth, the people were full of poetic and picturesque, and they were extremely particular about basic necessities of life.Watching Kunqu opera, I feel that it is really a kind of luck to learn Chinese and enjoy it. The taxi driver said, "The Story of the West Chamber, isn't that the Story of Sitting on the Wall?"Even if it is a fragrant drama, some details in it are still touching.Through all kinds of scheming and measures, the man endures, pursues and waits for a long time, and finally gets the woman he likes.Even at the moment before they are about to sleep together, they still have to bow down to the woman, humble themselves, express their gratitude, and feel sincere and sincere.This is the real flair. Yingying's boldness and passion are a natural match for him.The lover one chooses is actually another self. Love is not taking.From a Yoga Master. He said: "True love is not about personal gain, it's about the quality of human interaction. When we only think about ourselves and figure out how to get what we want, we get nothing from a love perspective." .Unconditional love is never based on asking. Rather, it is an experience of giving, an act of joy that each participant strives to share more generously.Love has nothing to do with mutual exploitation. It is not a business or a transaction, nor is it a system of calculations that require the actions of both parties to balance each other out. Rather, love expresses genuine concern for the well-being of others." On Children's Day, she planted vegetables with the elderly in the country house, digging the soil with a small shovel.Leaving home early in the morning, she cut a new rose in the garden, put it in a teacup and placed it on the window sill of her room.Before going home at dusk, I bought a cake at the dessert shop.It is a small round cake specially designed by the store for Children's Day, to celebrate her.There is a little rabbit, a little sheep and a bunch of colorful balloons on the cake. She dug a mouthful with a small spoon and put it in her mouth, smiling flowers in her eyes.Seriously and carefully dig out the cake, taking small bites to the bottom.I know how to cherish it, and I don't want to ruin the perfect party between the bunny, the lamb and the balloon. In the morning, neatly dressed men in suits and leather shoes carried their children across the garden to the kindergarten.In this scene, the man looks very sexy.Similarly, women sometimes work tirelessly, are responsible, and handle affairs simply and calmly, which is also likable.I always prefer men and women with a neutral temperament, they are more balanced and perfect. Meet the British publisher and the translator he brought. W is a thin young woman, dressed plainly, without makeup, with straight hair and a shawl, speaking in a quiet tone.She works in private schools and sometimes does translation of literature.I used to travel alone, unable to think clearly about the meaning of marriage and partner to me.Only fall in love with foreign men.I feel that I can't be a partner with Chinese men because "when they are together, most of them talk about cars, football games, new mobile phones and other topics that have nothing to do with their real lives. In the end, they can't communicate." The rose flowers are as big as a bowl, and their ambitions are so obvious.Only the white rose looks light, suitable for vases and placed on the bedside or table.Also suitable for wearing on the hairline. Go out for a walk in the evening.The big mulberry tree on the roadside bears dense mulberries. After the fruit is overripe, it falls to pieces on the stone road, and only magpies peck at it.A clump of wild petunias with a white background and purple background on the grass blooms strong flowers in the morning and gathers them one by one in the evening.The dahlia blooms brightly, like a vow.The wild cat lay on its side under the cypress tree and slept peacefully. In all the seemingly passive tolerance and acceptance, I can feel the existence of a positive force. I have been to many strange places in my dream.Some houses of different forms, some items that have never met, some strange people but do not talk to each other.The lives of those who meet another plane as it happens in time and space.Therefore, I have a kind of confidence in the seemingly mechanical reality, and feel that everything hides deep secrets and possibilities. Some dreams can make people feel that what they are seeing at this moment is real life.As if falling into a dream is waking up. I am sure that some of the scenes I saw in my dreams will gradually happen in reality.Over time it eventually surfaced.They are like fruits floating down the river, falling into the open palm. Talk with L online for an hour or two at dusk, purely for the pleasure of chatting, playing games of thinking with each other.Go downstairs to the supermarket.This supermarket is close to home, air-conditioned, but it is convenient and less crowded.When we checked out, it was raining outside.The raindrops hit the face very hard.Decided to walk home in the rain. There is inexplicable sadness, but I don't know why.The heart is like a quilt covered with a film, and sometimes the perception is numb, as if an ability that can no longer be damaged has reached its limit.I thought a lot, for a long time, and figured out some problems.Some situations are difficult to bear at the moment, but they must be endured. Rationality is a shackle, but sensibility is no poison. The past few days have not calmed down.Being dragged, an unknown force.Wondering what its ultimate intent is.It was like a person suddenly appeared in the crowd, grabbed his arm and dragged him away in an unknown direction.Different ideas are fighting each other, why is it so, and whether it can be balanced by force.The feeling of hurt is still vivid at times. Speaking of L, I have seen all kinds of bad and bad manifestations in human nature, but on top of this negative feeling, I regenerated a passionate and powerful belief.Believe that the path of integrity and beauty is worth pursuing. To this day, I do prefer long-lasting, deep, earnest, and simple things.It's worth paying the price.I want to believe them. Discussing with M, I feel that a man's more sincere confession to a woman is not that I love you, nor is it that we get married, but that we have a child together.Saying I love you can be perfunctory or a performance, and there are more elements of self-entertainment.Marriage is more sincere, but it is just a ceremony.Only when the relationship connects the blood, can they be entangled with each other to the end.Because I have always felt that men and women are so different that true intimacy may not be possible.In terms of emotional expression and way of thinking, sometimes they go in the opposite direction, and there is no tacit understanding.Direct and tangible instincts that can be brought out to exchange and connect are most effective. He neither agreed nor denied.After he divorced at the age of twenty-five, he never married a woman and had no children.He said that a man and a woman can do nothing but regard each other as a mirror of life.For example, me and you, will you have sex with me, will you have a child with me?I said no.Exactly, he said.But that doesn't mean there can't be real emotion between us. Before bed, read a passage from the Bible.The translation of the Union Version is really concise, beautiful and orderly.Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, and Yahweh led them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.This paragraph is very beautiful. The cry of frogs in the pond.The sound of a cuckoo.The chirping of sparrows.rain. Three years ago, I had dinner with S in a small restaurant in Sanlitun.She fell in love again, describing her first boyfriend, "as if he fell from the sky." At that time, her face was radiant.They went on a trip together, like a shadow.Three years later, they broke up.For some reason, I had an intuition when I first saw it.Some things can see the end from the beginning.It was too pleasant and smooth at the beginning, which inevitably hidden the crisis of volatility. All stories are repeating patterns.There is nothing new under the sun.Given awareness, they are always consistently the same, monotonous, uninteresting, and have a beginning and an end.The world's stories are not changing with each passing day.It also shows that the mirage in one's mind is just a beam of reflected light in the vast universe.Nothing.It's just that our fragile hearts are sometimes crushed by it. What exactly is happiness and does it exist.Sometimes it can seem like a hollow, embellished statement of distrust, of insecurity.Maybe what we look forward to and fear is just the reflection of what is missing in our hearts. Once rationality is activated, things fade away from illusion.Overshadowed and overwhelming.The magic of the delusion is gone, and the wood is still wood, and the rock is still rock.After all, it is the momentum of decline.Fate has given people the cards in their hands, and the dice are in its hands.We hold a hand of ritualized abundance, feel a lot, think we have power, but don't know that these are just tools to be manipulated. At first, I thought it was a different world, but in the end it was still reduced to a cliché.I thought it would be long, but it was actually very short.每个人都觉得手中所得应与众不同，但所有关系只遵循同一个规则前行，即无常。 没有不变的事物。一切都在损坏中，败落中，破裂中，离去中。一切也在准备中，酝酿中，生发中，推进中。这个世界，没有与众不同的事情，没有与众不同的人。所有的人都一样。所有的人都在做一样的事情。只是彼此不知也不说，各自隐藏在黑暗里。 失败是有快乐的。屡战屡败，屡败屡战，人生有时被挥霍成一场自我沉醉的表演。仿佛时间不是用来失败，也是用来闲置，如此才证明我们终究是自私和软弱的常人。 失恋，失爱，失婚，其实是琐碎的事，微小的事。无法负担的是认为将会独活的惶然。为情自伤的人，也可以选择强颜欢笑地煎熬下去。终究会有新的人出现，也许没有。终究会有新的生活出现，也许没有。但如果失去信念，在这样的困境里不再相信自己，得不到意志的凭靠，只能堕落于这消失的记忆的回声。 在这个世界上再找不到一个自处的位置，即便是心的一处落脚地。这是他们最终选择为小小情爱事故结束生命的原因。 执着于他人，总有失望。寄托在别人身上的幻觉，不免是破碎掉的泡沫，终究化为湿嗒嗒滴落下来的污迹。穷追猛打赶尽杀绝，只是捕风捉影。有时不能说痛，也不能自我暗示这是一种痛。这是高贵的克制。 只能是为自己而活。它不是主宰，你也不是王。 天气阴潮，即将有一场大雨。去机场。六点飞机起飞时，玻璃窗上沾满雨水。 心念来回，全不重要。事物在按照某种秩序和准则往前推进，不过是追随自己的心，做出努力。偏执是一次次尝试，直到做尽，做够，做完。结果如何，不能控制和把握。这又何尝不是一种坦然顺受。 一夜未眠，辗转三点才睡下。旧书重读，年少时读过的字依然动人心扉。“影子说，你和别人在黑暗里吹笛子。”诗人写出的小说，句子完美如同毒药不可救。真善美之间没有果然没有联接关系。真的，未必是善和美的。善的，未必是美的。而美，有时是偏执的，黑暗的。一半隐藏着恶，一半通向死亡。 “当我们相互看着的时候，我们就是属于地的，命能让我们在一起，也能把我们分开，就像金钱和爱情一样，只有一只手，它盲目地伸着，它要到空气里去，它要握住另一只手。由于不可抑灭的愿望和火焰，我永无得救的可能。” 一九九三年买的书，定价九元九角。有些字当时看过也只是吞食而已。当它能够溶解于心，如同盐消失于水，说明了时间的过程。也许只有自己才能够明了这些时间背后所需要付出的代价。通常这些代价不为人知，也无法言说。 走于刀刃上，一侧是叛逆之心，一侧是屈服和牺牲。 清晨六点醒来，头疼。起床去朝阳门办英国签证。被要求拍了新照片。穿盘扣中式棉衫，长发及腰，拍照前抹了一些口红。地铁来回，人群如蚂蚁窜流在城市地下，为衣食奔忙。人之微渺。内心却有巨大的深渊只有自身才可临及。 英国出版商在SS举行一个派对。结束后跟W的丈夫和孩子一起去云南餐厅吃饭。凉拌薄荷，烈性酒。孩子摔了一跤，他们的反应极为镇定。饭后她推着自行车想一起散步。在北京旧城街道兜了一圈。夜雾升起，说了一些闲话。 W说，她与丈夫在云南边境的旅途中邂逅，结束后决定跟他一起。究其原因，是因为“那时住在小镇，每天早上在房间里醒来，他愿意和我一起躺在床上闲聊半小时，再起身做其他的事”。这个可以在一起醒来时交谈的白人男子，比她大十八岁。后来成为她孩子的父亲。他为她从纽约搬来了北京。 能够温柔耐心地说话，自然是愉悦。倾诉、交流，让人靠近和亲密的通道。对于属性不同的恋人来说，长久不交谈，没有交谈的欲望，也不知该如何交谈，这样，路走到了尽头。彼此的能量无法对等，无法通畅。 人若无法发散和分享自己的能量给予他人，会失去联接，感受到匮乏和孤立。 她来机场迎接我，眼角微微有眼泪，困倦欲眠。穿过人群，急急走向她，虽然在笑，心里却并无欢欣。她的脸越来越美。她好像还是刚刚来到这个世界的样子。 把手中的匕首递给他，把伤疤暴露给他。这个接下你的匕首，看了你的伤疤的人，是可以爱的。 此刻你我无恙。我注视你的片刻清净，胜于肉身留存于这个世界的时间。如果能更有力，我要把你背负着带到彼岸。 “阿时轻轻将枕边的红海棠花瓶推远一些。然后拔下簪子、梳子放在枕边说，好啦，睡觉吧。昏暗的房间里，唯有花香强烈地烦扰我们。”句子来自早逝的作者。即使在贫乏的年代和处境，文字里也尽可找到诸般细节。美人蕉开花，雪夜，细雨，孤旅，照片里冰霜一般的美……这些细节在童年或少年时，还略可沾染余韵。现今仿佛已被扫荡一空。 小津安二郎的电影，黑白片。朴素，家常，平淡，真挚。与其说是天分，不如说是传统的品质所起的作用。 人有时会觉得在所处的时代里不合时宜，心应该落足在更久之前。但每一个时代都有其特征和任务，仍需在所处的时代里完成自己。坚定而结实地站在当下的这个点上。 下午摘杏。步行入山，大片果林。从树枝上摘下一枚已熟软的杏子，剥开果皮，果肉流动的汁液鲜活芳香，散发出阳光的热度。吃下它的感觉，跟身体完全融为一体。事物需要时机恰好，不早不晚。全然的相遇需要完美的因缘巧合。 摘完杏，和农夫闲聊。他说果实在树上，阳光的温度或突降的暴雨都会给予它影响。每一天它的内在都在发生变化，都在面临无常。所以，及时地摘下并享用它即是最好方式。 M说，你的胸口积累和储存着许多东西，也许是一团极为强烈而敏感的情绪，需要把它彻底消化。勇猛的能量若被放置在一个有限制的窄小空间里，不被释放，它会窜动和冲撞，给人带来苦痛。你要想办法转换和训练这些能量。 他说，写作可以解决一部分，但解决不了全部。你是否有勇气把自己全部拆解。它们可以溶解，流出。它们会带着你的自我流出。你未必会失去它们，也许只是得到与它们同在的一种新的方式。 李安把《冰风暴》拍得像一部台湾电影。人物都是美国演员，但表演是东方式的，情感与情绪的表达细腻含蓄，与美国人无关。这是一部被导演风格打上烙印的电影，超越它的地域性。换言之，一个有风格的创作者，可以在任何一部作品中打上属于自己的印记。 男孩在老师和同学面前，长篇阐述分子结构的观点。冰风暴的天气，穿橘红色雨衣在森林和空地里游荡，最后被电死。按照解读，里面的每一个人，不管是大人还是孩子，都在孤独之中寻求出路。大人和儿童的模式一致。性是成人生活里重要的部分，身份互异的人们通过性爱交换、表达、传递感情，（他说，我这样爱你，只能通过做爱来表达。这句话代表了一种典型的男人情感传递方式。）同时，这又是一种极为封闭而主观的方式。性爱同时背负着冷漠、背叛、谎言、伤害。 音乐和《色，戒》有相同之处，细密层叠递进。李安是过分敏感的男子。 有人说，创作需要两个因素，聪明人，笨功夫。对天性的灵敏和源泉不自知，埋头下苦功。动手做，做下去，做完。通常自认为聪明的人多，用笨功夫的少。人只说不做，或以说代替做，最终都是虚妄。 人由自我限制而生发的对他人的狭窄念头，毫发无损于对方，只使自己捉襟见肘。 若能置身事外，才不会画地为牢。 经常意识到自己行走在悬崖边缘的人，是否会因此更加用力及警醒。 晚上这个住在高山里的人给我回了一封邮件。最后一句话是，我用不上捐助，谢谢。 若有情执，必陷入软弱。 把对方的谎言和冷漠视为重击。如果强大，就可以把一切变动当作灰尘拂去。亲密无间，如胶似漆，逐渐替换成冷淡疏离，争执不休。他曾经一天给你十颗糖，突然十天也不给你一颗糖。那你能如何。愤怒于对方的变化，试图控制对方，硬要对方给出更多糖果。还是再次去别处寻找。 为何不让自己的口袋里装满更多的糖。这样不必期待他人给。可以自己吃，兴之所至，也可以给对方吃。 当下享受是最好的态度。接受无常，接纳完整的存在，而不试图重新塑造，也不扭曲自己和他人。关系第一原则，应是允许他人以独立和自愿的方式存在。期望是自以为是的权力。 不要对别人失望。别人即便有再多问题，那也是他允许自己并自认公正的。在把对自己的失望转换成对他人的憎恶时，人拿起匕首互刺彼此的心，痛快杀戮。伤与被伤同属一体，伤人便是自伤。即便在欢愉中，人也无法彼此理解。在伤害中更加不能。 给人自由，不侵犯压榨他人。也不允许他人这样做。 感情是一把双刃剑。得到它的欢愉和亲密的同时，要接受伤害。关系互相依赖，同时隐含对立与斗争。这种分裂是它一体性的展现。 吸引是拥有多个层面的闪耀而冷酷的独立体。绝非一厢情愿或曲意承欢。 有公开邮箱，读者来信一直极多。大多来信无法回复，有些信件若有必要，会尝试给予回复。 通常这些信件不会有“请给我回复”之类的要求，但字字句句发自肺腑，令人沉重。多出自年轻女子，有些用极为冷静的笔调写出多次自杀和情路跌宕的经历，种种与自我和他人的恶性所发生的内在斗争。最后仍会坚持认为自己在“爱”着对方。认为这些遭遇属于“爱”的范畴。 你可知，彼此都太用力，以至到了末尾内心萧瑟。此时已脱离爱的本意，被激发的不过是隐藏其后的贪欲和匮乏。 情感是一种残酷而理性的训练。通过检验，克服天性中的虚弱、沉溺和执着。欲望使我们得到机会打开对方内心的黑暗，区别只在于谁先识破这困守之境。 对男人来说，情爱和快乐有时是一种逃避和放松。是他们的游戏，玩耍的城堡，逗留的旷野。他们的心如同猎人，征服和占有是血液中的本能。对女人来说，若爱他，会把他当作孩子、父亲，恨不能把骨血溶解于他的身上，把心拧成一股绳索。两人属性和所求如此不同却要相守，多么困难。 他若不爱，会以各种方式玩转你的肉体和灵魂，把它们视为脚下草芥。不会有顾惜和尊重。错爱最后淬炼出铜墙铁壁般刚硬冰冷的心。一厢情愿的幻想燃烧着虚妄的火焰，现实本身却铺满跌碎的真相。 要记得。他若真爱，只会用一种方式呈现：用他的全部生命供养你。 那种除了性，而无法给予情感和精神支持的关系，只会在原地滞留，不会提供上升空间。这是由对方的身心模式决定，固执地用同一张罗网把你拖拉在原地。但你终究需要前行，继续寻找，才能得到让生命均衡和饱满的关系。 若受不到珍重的对待，爱是何物。性的关系只会止于性。应与人发展一种正面能量的关系，而不是被欲望所刺激的由贪婪支配的关系。即便要走一段漫长的路，不能忘记自己所要去的方向。 人在某一个路口，被迫要认清立场和处境，看到自身和他人的软弱。你曾经幻想过完美的东西，后来知道它没有。没有可能把归宿放在一个同等自私和软弱的个体之上，也许对方也在需索和期待你的帮助及给予。 “无所贪爱，每一刻却贯注深情。”爱的涵义谁可真正领会。 我并不时常抽烟。大概是在写作的时候，疲倦或有压力的时候，跟亲近的会抽烟的男人在一起的时候。 粉壳烟在机场顺便购买。并不是平时常抽的烟，只在旅途中做伴十几天。有时在路过的地方，购买当地的烟。有时遇见他人，随手分享他们习惯的烟。抽对方给予的烟，好像触摸到他们内心一处私密的小空间。搭讪他人，索要一支烟，或借用一下打火机，也极为自然。 烟本身并无禁忌，但由人评断。它是空性的。 对有孤独感的人来说，它很难被彻底戒除，但也无需上瘾。 在咖啡店工作。回复待定邮件，补写日记，修改文件。休息时观察他人。有些人的长相，一开始不让人觉得喜欢，但交谈或长时间相处之后逐渐体知到他的美。内在依然决定长久的可行性。 一个戴假睫毛涂红色指甲油化烟熏妆的女子，独自前来。点了咖啡，抽完一根烟。右手臂有文身。拿出一串黑色檀木和玛瑙的大佛珠，双手合十闭上眼睛诵经。完毕后立即再次点燃一根烟。 一次，这个在远处城市的男子，深夜告诉我，他躺在床上无法入睡觉得极度难过。我想他也许需要抚慰。聊天到凌晨。几次他说到哭泣，无法自制。说到一个亲近朋友的自杀身亡，说到他的困惑和内疚。三点多结束。躺下时觉得疲倦，放松。眼前仿佛有小小火花闪现。 一次，她说，她不想活得太久。我说，那你要活到什么时候。她说，三十七岁。我说，那就很快了。她也没有什么解释。其间说起“他待我很好，也足够善良。但我却从来没有得到过快乐”。 倾听这些陌生人的故事。他们有时很远，有时很近。 现今，一个不看电视不听电台不看报纸不看杂志对时事新闻八卦无兴趣的人，也许正在跟这个时代脱节。但我并无觉得不适。也相信其实有许多人跟我相同。 我并不知道该与时代保持怎样的关系。只愿意自己的生命保持真实。在这条熙攘的道路上，谁能于迷妄中知分晓。没有余力投入在围观、辩论、哄闹、驳斥之中。不如保持原地不动，让潮流和喧嚣兀自远去。 一贯的荒诞是，世人都爱与外界、外人争斗，标榜勇猛斗士的姿态和观点，这般也许能够使自己感觉强大及重要。以此可以遮盖真实的自我，回避自身问题，避免反观内在虚弱的灵魂。 这个时代，若有人想诚实谈谈自己，不免会被认为自恋或狭隘，反而奇怪得很。谈论浮夸的与己无关的事物，做出与外界万物斗其乐无穷状，安全而热闹。 人们其实很少爱自己，也不认可自己的真实。 穿过夜色中的花园，草坡和树林在雨水浇灌中沙沙有声。石榴花一簇簇暗红的花影隐藏在枝叶背后。雨水湿透脸上，脱掉凉鞋，光脚踩入草坡。久久站在夜雨之中。 这些天，被一本书支撑着。它在缓慢成为骨骼的一部分。饱满，强壮，因故安静得不需要任何言语。看到一本好的书，有时会希望别人不认识它。也许这不是吝啬，只是为了保有它的清静。 用生命实践所带来的敏感去体察一本书的内心，而不是用阶级论或政治意识或自我限制去粗暴地评断一本书。这是对它的损伤。事实上，一些真正的书的本质，只是孤轮独照。 文字与制造它的人一体，又各有界限。写作者不能以文字中的方式生活，也不能以生活的方式写作。写作因此是需要专门技术的职业。它不是纯然对照自我的表达，是有所抽离和凝聚的表达。在一本书里，读者感受到作者的精神方式、观念、特质，觉得与之契合，有共鸣，遂在心里把他当作一个知己。他们之间的关系，有时会比生活中实际相处的人抵达更为深邃的心灵限度。 一些书默默而有力地改变阅读者的内心，改变他的价值观、思考方式、人生模式。这是一本书对人所发生的作用，是阅读带来的馈赠。 有才华的人，不该以世俗的方式去占有和评估他。存在于书中的作者，呈现出其精湛的内在，把灵魂中一簇明亮和集中的能量，毫无隐藏没有丝毫保留地挖掘重塑。奉之于世，做出牺牲。现实中的他，有时不免显得自私、乏味、没有活力。现实对他而言，也许是身心蜕下来的旧躯壳。他领先它而去，失去兴味。 书带着他既往的躯体血肉开始独自旅行世间。（而他的现在又远行到了哪里。） 他驱车在台风的天气来看望我。半路匆促买的廉价的换洗衬衣和布裤穿在身上仍是好看。背影挺拔，像二十七岁的年轻男子。眼角还是起了皱纹。这个男子，容色安静，站在我的身边，说话常常会吞咽下半句，心里又如同明镜。 我们走过廊桥去河的对岸吃晚饭。刚点完菜，闪电和雨点就把外面的人赶进了室内。通明的灯火，墙角的电风扇和在翻看菜单的情侣。为他盛一碗汤。他说，很多事都忘记了。如此，一句怨言也无。只是平淡地活在自己的世界里。与世无争，种植花草，生儿育女，与人相伴。 “我以前不知道哀而不伤是什么意思。现在明白了，却不知道该如何对你解释。于是想想还是不说了罢。” 一个白色陶土大盆，描着菊花，线条洒落的枝叶，清雅拙朴。边上一枚小小标价签，价格昂贵。这样的大盆若搬回家里，是该供起来，还是用起来。按照一贯作风，会把它融入日常生活之中。日夜相对，时时碰触交会，才不辜负美意。也许用它来盛米或盛水。 石竹锯齿状花瓣有一圈意图不明的圆环。纤细对称的叶子，长长花茎。它是容易被人忽略的平凡花朵，很少有人歌吟或着意欣赏。适合稀朗地插入清水玻璃花瓶里。一枝纤细的石竹，白中带紫，着实清雅。今年在花园里重新种了很多。 石竹和夹竹桃适合佩戴在耳际，略带放荡和优美。在博尔赫斯的短篇里，有耳边插石竹的男子出现。从这一点来看，博尔赫斯亦具备极佳的男色鉴赏力。他那与世隔绝般的幽闭而奇幻的小说，如同夜色中的森林。阅读时仿佛可以借以逃避人世。 夏夜阅读井原西鹤也是一桩妙事。日本古典文学所传递出来的对性与爱，生与死的豁达，是他们的人生哲学和审美观中重要的基础。津津有味而又波澜不惊的语调，讲述男女欲情，世事变迁，如同一场花开花落。最后皆付诸大海，滚滚而去，一物不存，昭昭独显。井原西鹤深得禅意真味。让人读得心里澄明如镜。 如何对待性，如何对待死。这些被禁忌的问题，是需要面对的重要而实际的问题。它跟是否吃饱，是否能活，是一致属性。日本人的处理方式是我所喜欢的。他们面对，接纳，享受，安然。给予审美的超越感，又视之为平常。 只有明白了这份态度，才能明白他们对待山水庭院，一场花事，一杯茶……以及渗透在人与万事万物的关系中，那份分量十足的郑重与豁达。 园子里的回廊池畔，一望无边际的荷花。 风中传递刺鼻芳香，烈日下汗水湿透的衣衫。 凉亭上的诗句。 “政府同我没多大关系，我尽量不考虑它。我不常生活在政府之下，我甚至不常生活在这个世界上。如果一个人思想自由，幻想自由，想象自由，那么不自由的东西在他看来就不会长期存在。”摘自梭罗。 今日写作八千字。早起跑步，反复看自己的手腕。路边的打碗花在露水中安静绽放。 存在，并清楚察看生命的每一刻。 天色灰暗，炎热。中午去餐厅吃饭。母亲打来电话。穿上丝裙，戴耳环，化妆得当。餐厅空无一人，七八个男侍应，只有一桌客人。楼下电视转播阅兵，与己无关。一间小小的儿童游戏室。 生日有时想收到一捆白色或浅粉色的花朵，有芳香，皱纸包裹，棉线扎起。大束的白色牡丹或月季。一小把茉莉和栀子也很亲切。但事实上，我许久没有收到花束，没有送花给过他人，也没有写信给过人。这些行为未免不是一种可耻。那天陪W去买贺卡，他买了许多，顺便问我，能