Chapter 42 watch fireworks

There are already many people who don't like to talk about love. Sometimes I go to interview some mavericks.They don't like working, writing in solitude, walking all the time, or doing weird things.Many of them are children born in the mid-70s. Every time, I will ask this question, can you talk about your views on love?I don't want to get involved in privacy, just want to hear an idea, but the result has let me down. A man who was addicted to philosophy, writing and poverty, thought for a long time, and then said to me that he had no opinion, he thought love was a false concept.

There was also a man who had opened an art exhibition and was very eloquent, but his eyes began to falter when asked this question.The topic is clearly perfunctory. I think it may be that some ambiguous things have become difficult to express or need not be expressed.Just don't know if it's the problem itself or the people. What if someone else asked me this question.I think I'll answer him, I don't believe in love, but I will accept it.Because it is a comfort. When I went to Changshu for a meeting, I remember working overtime with my colleagues until late at night to revise the layout of our report.At the end of the report, we chose a blue picture, the sea, the city's stone forest, and then there were three big words in white: I love you.Next to it is a line of English, only death can separate us.

I really like that painting.Such an affectionate and brave confession.And we used it for a work report.Indeed a group of creative people.laugh.Maybe it is because there are too few opportunities to use it.hardly. Who deserves us to make such a promise.It is more suitable for use in work reports.True love flows.This is a good wish.It's just that more and more people no longer believe in love. In the chaotic bar, there are watery desires, twinkling eyes.The girl's flower-like body, the man's hot fingers.Instant game.Flying love.Everything is safe.Just no promises. Love without promises will make people feel cold all over.

It is like a person holding a lot of firewood by his side, but there is no flame in his heart, which cannot be ignited.He is still cold. That cluster of little flames is our true love. Love can be a fleeting thing.It can also be a lifetime thing.Everyone can fall in love with different people at different times.It's not that whoever leaves can't live.Forgetting makes us strong. The modern concept of cruel and flexible love is indeed different from the love we see in movies. When a person loves no one, he can love anyone around him. This feeling of despair makes people fall into the final abyss.total darkness.

I always remember seeing a couple of old people when I was a child.They would take a walk on the street at dusk every day, holding hands, talking quietly, and taking a long circle along the residential area. They can watch the sunset together, stay with them until they die, and watch their children grow up as they continue each other's lives.This is bliss.But then I saw too many other people's love, being damaged beyond recognition by money, interests, deception, use, betrayal...Everyone wants to protect themselves.this is correct. When the heart becomes hard, it is difficult for gentle hands to touch it.Some pure concepts were ruthlessly and painfully destroyed.

For a while, I kept getting wedding invitations.Every wedding I attend feels loud and empty.I think everyone is already tired, so I want to stop. If you happen to see a faint pier on the way, and it is very safe. Or drifting for too long, with empty hands, and returning to the place where I started, although the old pier is old.But it's still there after all. I also attended Wei's wedding.Wei is my teenage friend who has been together since I was 12 years old. At that time, we often stayed in each other’s small room. What the two little girls said in the dark, in retrospect, is very vague, but clear.It's like the smell of a 12-year-old girl that I sometimes smell when I'm on a crowded bus. It's warm and fragrant, emanating from the hair, the skin, and the clear eyes. It's completely dizzy.

After more than 10 years, this kind of breath has disappeared.Just like the love we once discussed passionately and blindly, it has become the faint moonlight flowing down the bed in memory, but in fact it can never be touched. We fantasize about the man who has not yet appeared, and we think that he will definitely belong to him, and we take the trouble to guess his appearance and soul.A handsome bright man.Figured he'd wait until we were actually grown up. The love of a teenager is the rain and petals that suddenly drift down in the wind when walking through a cherry tree.Tears and sweetness, promises and pain, heartbeat and disappointment, entangled and intertwined.Like soft fingers, caressing the white ideal, silently, leaving many marks on it.

At first, those traces were also pure white, but in the depths of time, when I looked down again, I found that their color had turned into a decadent dark yellow. Finally there is an answer.Such an answer is slowly and without hesitation placed in the hands amid doubts and hesitation. Vi met a boy and relentlessly liked her.The relationship lasted for more than 10 years since the age of 12.I have witnessed her going from disappointment to dependence, and there are endless hardships in it.She wanted to leave him, and he wanted to leave her.But in the end, finally married. At the wedding, Wei wore a bright red silk satin cheongsam with gorgeous heavy makeup.I can see her exhaustion.I think we are really old.It was no longer the two girls in cotton pajamas, huddled together on the small bed, laughing and laughing.At that time, our hearts were white paper, spreading out softly, waiting for the brush strokes dipped in ink.Then everything is covered down.Everything that was ever imagined begins to be lost forever as it happens.

Wei said she wanted to have a baby as soon as possible.I suddenly discovered that a woman's aging happens after she loses her expectations. I smiled and hugged her. At that moment, I felt sad.I think of when we were young, we got up late at night because of insomnia, sat on the ground and looked at the moonlight in the room.Our hands swim in the moonlight, unable to grasp anything. The man in the fantasy didn't really exist. Children born in the 1970s, unlike children in the 1960s, have too many shadows of fate in their hearts.It's also not like the children of the 80s, who were anxious and restless by too many life directions.They are the middle layer of a sandwich biscuit.The taste is cloudy and heavy.

There are many people who have experienced puppy love.Maybe they all lost their virginity very early.They use a passionate and direct way to explore the path of love, but they go too fast, so it is inevitable that they will sometimes feel confused.When I truly became an adult, there were traces of brokenness in my heart.A lot of love ends in a hasty gesture.The bland and realistic ending drowned out all the rebelliousness and passion that had been struggling. There are also some people, like the kids I interviewed, who go their own way and go their own way.Love may be solitary alcohol, free lust, a deadpan game, a dark shadow trailing behind.Marriage is a way of life, not an end.Love is also a way of life, not an ideal.Therefore, for them, love can be replaced, and perhaps they would rather be replaced.

As a man who runs an underground culture and music website said to me, he wants to keep a permanent distance from love.A distance where you won't be disappointed and spoiled. Such affectionate and hopeless persistence wears a mask of indifference and noncommittal. Full of contradictions. Our parents' love patterns usually fail us.That kind of emotion controlled by historical and political factors has created many marriages that are tied together, full of heavy guilt and submissive helplessness.The love between new and new humans is still blooming like a flower in the city and the fringes, and there is a spicy atmosphere everywhere.They got tattoos, dyed their hair, smoked, went clubbing, kissed in front of the main street station, and poured out their hearts by e-mail and MIRC.But those children born in the 70s, they don't want to talk about love anymore. I still often think that love is like a firework that we go to wait and see.The moment it blooms, the scorching heat full of courage and the splendor before disillusionment.We look at it and think that there is so much passion in our hearts. Then the fireworks went off and the night sky fell silent.We also went home. That's it.