Chapter 5 Rose Island (5)

Two, insomnia As I was writing in June, I had several nights in a row with insomnia. This insomnia is terrible.For nearly 12 hours, in an extremely awake state, there was no way to close my eyes. Worked from 7:10pm to 2:43am.Turned off the computer due to dry eyes and pain in front of the monitor for a long time.In the kitchen, open the refrigerator and find the walnut crisps bought in the supermarket.The puppy was woken up by me, so he walked into the kitchen to see me.Sitting at the wooden table for eating and eating.See the little blue gingham curtains in the bedroom fluttering high.The cool wind poured into the room in large swaths.

In Beijing, I moved three times a year.The most recent time was to move to an apartment near the Asian Games Village.Very quiet living area.Red brick walls, vintage old apartment building.There are large gardens and woods.The lawn is homely enough for dogs and children to play on.The locust tree builds a densely shaded corridor, and the sunlight penetrates through the emerald green leaves.Pomegranates, peaches, apples, including a tree with small yellow flowers whose name I don't know.The trees are growing strong.There are often old people who set up a small bench under a tree and sit there peeling beans or enjoying the shade.

After washing the sheets, you can also put them in the garden to dry.The sun made the cotton cloth smell delicious.It seems to have returned to the days when I lived in a large courtyard when I was a child.Everything becomes approachable. The rented room has a clean wooden floor and a small kitchen with floral tiles.Pushing open the window, you can smell the fragrance of leaves and roses in the wind. The garden is full of roses.The big canopy has bright red and small pink and white flowers, and one branch can bloom nearly 50 flowers.It reminds me of the large clusters of flowering branches protruding from the wall of the courtyard in my hometown in summer.There is also the human rose.The stems are thick and the flowers are as big as a bowl.These flowers bloom vigorously, one after another.Like a grand show.

Finding such a house is for writing.The only thing in life that doesn't change is writing.Sometimes it takes 10 hours to write.Sometimes I only write for 5 minutes, then turn off the computer and start going out. Most of my travels are purposeless.It's just a person walking up and down the street, not talking or doing anything.Be among people, but don't have sex with them.I like to be fluid and detached.Journeys, bars, trains, long-distance buses, waiting halls, train sleepers and other places can make me feel at ease physically and mentally.But if I want to attend some occasions and socialize at a banquet, I will be numb and distracted.

I have lived such a life for a long time. I have always liked this clean small kitchen covered with floral tiles, narrow and long, with many windows.I often read books on the small wooden table between stewing soup or cooking.Put the newly bought Oxford English Grammar there, and turn to a few pages to review.And the books by Haruki Murakami. "The Disappearance of the Elephant".It was his favorite collection of short stories of all his books.Because it faces west, the kitchen waits until dusk, and the ground is full of bright sunlight. There's a small pot of cactus on the fridge, and a battered little radio that a friend throws away.I usually don't listen to any programs on the radio, and I don't like the right to speak indiscriminately bombarded by people, and what many hosts say is extremely mentally retarded.But when washing vegetables, you can tune to the music station and hear some nice songs.The voice is a little out of tune, but I can hear the melody and lyrics clearly, and occasionally hum a few words along with it.It reminds me of my own teenage years. The 80s were the heyday of pop music.I pulled out the radio's long antenna and draped it over an airtight jar filled with dried flowers.

Sitting in the kitchenette eating sugar cookies in the early hours of 2am.Made a cup of hot tea made with camellia, jasmine, and rose.The silence of this moment is pleasant. After eating, continue to find something to do.Sleep through the night has completely left me.I know. But I don't want to call someone.No desire to talk, no one to call.It's been a long, long time that I don't make any phone calls, except for some work stuff, calling my editor or my publisher.I've always had trouble with readers who got my phone number from someone else and tried to call me late at night.On the one hand, I didn't want to hurt their pride, they were all young and harmless.On the other hand, I really had nothing to say to them, not a single word.I don't want to be perfunctory either.Finally the calls died down.But I started ringing calls from unfamiliar numbers.Sometimes, the phone rings, over and over, without even trying to answer it.For a long time, I had a cell phone phobia.I have a strong sense of discomfort on the phone.

So, I began to say to all those who tried to contact me, write EMAIL to me.Even if you have my phone, write EMAIL to me. In this way, for a long time, I didn't have anything to say to others.I lost my voice.Just like the woman in "Goodbye, Time", her long narratives are just happening in her heart.And another woman was close at hand.Even if they love each other, they can't get a confession.man's loneliness.That's it. I remember things like sleeping with my best friend when I was a kid and we loved to take turns sleeping in each other's rooms.Talked all night.Talk about various topics.Until the parents came knocking on the door and demanded to shut up immediately.I still remember being in love with a man in another city a few years ago.We made discounted long-distance calls after midnight, and one dozen lasted for 4 hours.How can there be so much to say.how come.and a man.The voice on the phone is as sexy as the touch of the skin.

When I think of those details now, it seems that it happened a long time ago.It's passed. In one room, I placed a huge two-meter-long log desk.The tabletop still has the clear grain and knot marks of the wood.Varnished and smooth to the touch with a slightly rough texture.A large wooden desk has always been my wish.Computers, CD players, speakers, black iron table lamps with burgundy cloth shades, many wooden photo frames, stacks of CDs, books and notebooks can be placed on it.Including pencils, rulers, crayons, erasers, teacups, ashtrays, perfume, candlesticks, aromatherapy burners, porcelain plates for fruit... all the messy things.There are also orchids and prickly pears.

There are several wood engravings on the walls.It's about plant specimens.The clumsy lines of handwork are painted in rich colors.There is handwritten English below, which seems to be a note, indicating the source and characteristics of this plant.I collect the things I like and put them all here. The bookshelves are full.Just put it on the floor.The cotton sofa bought at IKEA is covered with an embroidered white cotton cloth, which should be used as a tablecloth, and it looks good on the sofa as well.It is exquisite cross stitch.I bought such high-quality cotton cloth exported to Europe in a small market for only 20 yuan.

I have always been passionate about home.I would buy an expensive walnut chest just because I like the distressed dark brown color and the antique brass buckles on it.I have always been interested in going to the cloth store to choose cheap cotton cloth, apricot-yellow broken flowers on a dark red background, red-pink lattice, scattered petals and branches and leaves on mint green... Wash the cotton cloth, let it smell the fragrance of the sun, and then iron it and spread it on On the table.Take the trouble.Once I went to a department store and happened to see a discounted Japanese bowl with large white pear flowers and fruits on top of the fallen leaves.The outside of the bowl is grayish blue with faint lines.Such decadent beauty.It was still expensive after the discount, so I bought two.It is only used to drink soup, sometimes to cook lotus seed lily porridge, or white fungus, red dates and mung bean soup.After serving, the food becomes more meaningful.

The landlord came to pick up things, saw my room, and said with a smile, why do you have so many things.He didn't know that this woman migrated from Shanghai to Beijing and would rather give up all the furniture and electrical appliances.Boxes full of old things like this.Items of little value.But the same is not willing to lose.Because they are all so meticulously found and then kept by my side. I know.Sometimes it's just loneliness. I'm on the couch with a fringed wool shawl covering my legs.There is coolness in the air, and a strong wind blows in.Be good and start to sleep again.It spread out on all fours and slept like a toddler.I read the Bible, turn to a page at random, and read on.Look through old photos in your photo album.Resting her head on the pile of plush bears on the edge of the sofa, she closed her eyes. When I left and returned to Beijing, my mother told me that you should have a family, get married and have children.She worried that I was alone in a foreign land, poor and vulnerable.I smiled and said nothing.How difficult it is for us to have a lifelong wish for a person.There are too many selfish men and too few warm men.We cannot achieve long-term security in our relationships with people, and have always been.And as for the passion for entertainment, let's not talk about it.That's adolescent fun, not the adult way.At that moment, I realized how tired my heart was.Just want to be quiet. In the clear blue sea of ​​Vietnam, some emerald green islands have been seen.Dotted all over, isolated from each other, each has its own place.These islands have no exit and cannot be crossed.Our home is an island.Our soul, in the city, is also always an island.so lonely.In this way, each is green and prosperous. A warm and quiet man, a clean room, a small dog, a terrace full of green trees with curtains blown by the wind.In this way, when insomnia, or can hug each other.And we can have sons and daughters.But I have no idea about this person.He is transparent air.Being, as if not being.He means nothing more than that to my life.It's just the rose island in the illusion. I didn't tell my mother that only women and men who are not financially independent or who are afraid of being alone would want to use marriage to change their lives and gain security.And to me, that's not the most important thing.I'm doing very well.Because I know what I want.I love life like the sea.There are tides, there are calms, but there is always indomitable progress.The loneliness of the sea makes no sound. Many people have loved us.We leave them.This is the price we pay for it.It is also willing to think about it.No one can seek freedom and security at the same time in life.That is impossible. At four o'clock in the morning the birds in the garden woods began to sing.Crisp voices, one after another.The sky was covered with a layer of gray and dark blue, and then gradually became clearer and brighter.At this time, it is like getting up early to drive a car during a journey, with a slight drowsiness, hearing the voices of people around you, it seems that you are still in a dream, and a new day of journey has already started before your eyes.Step out onto the terrace and look down at the silent garden below.The sound of cars on the road in the distance came faintly.The city is beginning to wake up.In the woods, a white puppy walked slowly.I don't know whose family it is.Out for a walk so early.Guai quietly walked to my side and squatted beside me.It also woke up. For about 40 minutes, the color of the sky kept changing, like a container covered under a blue cloth, and the cloth was lifted little by little until the sky was completely bright.And in the sky, there is a rosy red sky, and the sun has not yet come out. It's going to be another hot, bright summer day. Its daybreak.It's time for me to sleep.