Chapter 41 typhoid sky

I'm getting used to the reduced sleep time.Often when I lie down and prepare to sleep, I find that the sky outside the window has turned pale.Lying on the side of the bed many times, watching the sky outside the window gradually brighten up.Like glass that has been wiped of rainwater, with wet and blurred sunshine. It was a peaceful time.The cool wind blowing in from the window carries the fragrance of dew and leaves.Then, there were more and more cars on Beijing West Road, the exercise music started, and someone started talking loudly.A new day begins. That strange time, with an ambiguous atmosphere, seemed to be just a moment.

In the morning I drink a glass of ice water with lemon in it and skip breakfast.I played Irish music, washed my clothes in the tub, and dressed them up on bamboo poles and put them out in the sun.They sometimes drip water that is not wrung out, and I use a basin to hold that water. Then go to the company.Walking on the road, watching the large green leaves swaying in the bright sunlight, so transparent that the fine veins can be seen clearly.The sun was bouncing heavily on my face, and I could hear it cracking. In the night of insomnia, when it is still dark, people will have slight hallucinations.I turned on the air conditioner, and the room was as cold as an ice cave.Wrap yourself in layers of blankets.A body that cannot metabolize.Felt like fish in the fridge.

The sea disappeared.Death is perpetuated. Only during the transition between late night and early morning am I calm and sharp.It's okay to do lonely things.Things like writing, drinking water, looking in the mirror, playing soft and loud music, and crying.I often cry when I am alone.When facing strangers, my smile is sweet.I don't know why.I gradually became dependent on this way of release. One hot afternoon, I followed my friends to a small alley in Xujiahui and bought more than ten pirated CDs.It was very hot.Sweat all over my face.Music is a pill for pain and hallucinations.Music haunts us.I listened to many CDs.I'll buy the turntable anytime it bursts into utterly chaotic electronic music.Sometimes I listen to The Cranberries, sometimes U2, sometimes BLUR, sometimes CURE.Intense and muddy rock, when people are surrounded, it is very safe.

Those cries of fear. That day at 3 o'clock in the morning, I turned on the computer and started surfing the Internet. I go online and see my friends who don't sleep.Friends in faraway America.I said to him, I can't sleep and I don't know why.He said, it’s a sunny afternoon here, and I can see the green river and ducks from the window.I can't imagine him at this moment.He wrote a lot of novels, he once ended a love.He likes the picture of me lying on the bed, he said, that is his familiar eyes.But all the photos have suddenly disappeared.It's like fireworks.That was a firework I set off for myself.The extinguished dust and smoke fell on the face.

I got kicked by a stranger on IRC.He seems a little lonely, every time he sees my name, he starts killing lines again and again.Maybe he hates me.Man has an unprovoked tendency to destroy. I reconnect again and again.Does he like this game?I think. Then he gets bored.He no longer kicks.Or go away. I can't figure out the gratuitous hate. But I know there is no reason for love.Occasionally, seeing the corner of a man's lips, you fall in love with him.There's a weird mark on the corner of his lip, you recognize it.You look at him, exhaust fumes and dust surround you on the busy street.When he passed you, he was only two centimeters away from you.But he passed.You don't know where he goes.I will never see him again in my life.

Hate reminds me of the wisdom tooth I pulled out in Nanjing.In the state of being anesthetized, there is only the feeling of the teeth being hit hard with a hammer, passing through the body again and again.At that moment, I remembered the many tortures it had brought me, and it was broken when it was forced to leave me. I always remember it. No one else can match this tooth.My wounds gradually became blurred. I remember some fragments.Some blurry moments.That day I was lying on the grass of a high-end apartment somewhere, looking at the clouds in the night sky that were blown by the wind and moved quickly.The building is sloped.There was a strong wind, blowing the skirt and flying around, as if soaking in the cool lake water.really good.Does not seem to belong to the city.It's just that I was quickly driven away.The security guard said to me, you can go to the park.But there are too many people in the park and too many trees.I can't see it.

In the dark bar, a man put his finger on mine and said, this is witchcraft, what can you see?I said, I can't feel the sound of your blood flowing.I can't hear anything.Can't see anything. The bar was packed with dancing people.Psychedelic electronic music.Sweat and lust in the dark.The strong perfume smell of foreigners.Sluggish white twigs of flowers.Amber alcohol.There are pale faces in strange mirrors.A woman with long hair and a soft waist.He took my hand and led me through the dark crowd.His hands were surprisingly strong.At that moment, my heart was full of despair. The steps were full of young foreigners.We ran to the lonely road.

A 24-hour supermarket in the distance emits blinding white lights.A girl with ice-blue eye shadow walked by the dark wall.She is like a cat looking for food.Someone is kissing.A homeless man crouches under a tree, sticking out his dirty hands. I am afraid that I will go to that bar on Maoming South Road again.Its desperation hit me.The desire to degenerate to the end is hidden in every person who doesn't know where to go.Throw a broken jar hard on the ground and listen for the sound of it breaking.This is what some people want to do.Their words, their desires, their wounds, were drowned out by the sound of breaking.

This is the Shanghai I like.Its indifference covers all despair. I think I love it.I would go there and dance alone. I love the feeling of going back to my room around 1am, dark stairs, and turning on the lights.Go upstairs and turn off.Turn on the lights on the upper floor.Go upstairs and turn off again.In the long corridor, there are green plants breathing.I don't think I will bring anyone to my room.This is a place that belongs only to me.There can be writing and crying.No one can show up. Sometimes I leave the company quickly, sometimes very late.That night I left the company at 9:45 and I didn't eat.I called a friend who was writing at the company and I went to see him.I buy a hamburger and a Coke in a store.They're closing soon and burgers are being made.I sit and wait.I saw a couple walking happily outside the glass window.They are very happy.The taxis on the street were going too fast, rustling tires.The leaves of the sycamore tree are very green.There are also big white clouds in the sky, walking in the wind.At that moment, I suddenly froze, not knowing where I was.I wonder where I am.Which one of the cities I have stayed in?

That terrible strangeness surrounds me.I think I'm a passerby passing by here.I have accepted who I am.Anyone in any city.a passerby. Because I love him, I want to leave him. Girls on IRC, tell me so. I like this saying.Some feelings are so direct and cruel that there is no room for any twists and turns of warmth.It is better to leave with a warm heart than the pale truth.Pure stuff dies too quickly. I like to shake a tree when I walk past it, if it has just rained.The cool rain drizzled in all directions, soaking hair and skirts.At that time I think of instant love.Kiss him softly on the face goodbye and leave him.forever.

We were chatting on IRC and she forwarded me a letter from a guy.He is contacting her.He mentioned me.mention himself.He said that the city I live in is very close to Shanghai.I often go to a bar next to my home. It is opened by two lovely girls. It is a long and narrow place with a width of three to four meters and a length of 10 meters. There are two or three tables and a billiard table. Foreign songs are played. It is close to a foreign hotel, mainly Some foreigners patronize.Basically these foreigners have come through Shanghai and often complain about Shanghai money city, too many people.But I like Shanghai... I don’t know why I woke up at 3 o’clock in the morning, maybe it has something to do with the coffee last night, but I didn’t go to bed until 11 o’clock. Hit the roof, merged into a noisy sound of water hitting the ground... I looked at the text and couldn't believe he wrote it.What is hidden in a man's heart can never be known.He made a website for me.There are his favorite pictures and all my texts.That's commemoration. Forgetting is also remembering. I was wrapped in a blanket in my room at 3 o'clock in the morning, facing the computer.My tears kept streaming down my face.For the letters, for the broken sentences, for the hallucinations, for the cruelty.I have stayed away from alcohol and cigarettes for many years because I don't feel the need for them, they make people dirty.I just keep drinking water.Just like Wong Kar-wai's movie, he asked a man who was broken in love to run non-stop, because running would evaporate the water in his body, so he would stop crying.And I'm drinking water all the time.So I couldn't stop crying.My tears dry and fill myself. At that moment, I thought, maybe I can leave Shanghai.Be it Beijing or Guangzhou, I can always find a place where I can live.What can a man who has nothing have to fear.Fear is sometimes worry.I know what caring is.Just can't get it. I like children.Some children are not allowed to be born, they are lost in the dark love and fragile time.Children who can be born healthy have seen the bright sunshine in their eyes.very nice.I saw foreign couples on the street. They put one in the cart, held one in their hands, and held the other in their arms.Children are like small animals, which are loved and loved.Soft hair, innocent eyes.Entangled in the body, tangled in the soul. I want to touch them.Some children are born with love, some not.They may grow up happily and have healthy families.Maybe there will be no father, or no mother.But it grew up so sensitively and clearly.Life is so fragile and sweet.bring comfort.like green fruit.The sunny side exudes fragrance.On the other side of being exterminated is death. We went to the movies.I haven't watched a movie for a long time.There was a strong wind blowing on the steps, and two night planes flew in the sky.Fly somewhere from the direction of Hongqiao Airport.Some flitted through the air.Some lives are in transition.The stone forest of the city will be very gorgeous when viewed from a high altitude.Love, desire, ideal, loneliness, are fermented, stirred, and evaporated. I looked up at the plane.I heard it rumbling.I thought of a thin European man writing on a postcard with a pen in the empty waiting hall of the airport in Xi'an.He wrote very slowly, and the postcards were in messy English.He is wearing a green suit, carrying a green bag, and has green eyes.I kept wondering if he was saying goodbye or returning.Tell his loved ones that he is gone, or that he is back.Such speculation moved me.In the lobby, flight information was broadcast alternately in Chinese, English, and Japanese.I was carrying a heavy mountaineering bag, and I came back from Huashan.Nowhere to say goodbye.Then I wrote that novel. The sky is strangely blue.My friend said that the blue color seemed to be the face of a typhoid patient.I said, I think it's like flannelette.A velvet that hides all pain.There is no truth.