Chapter 11 Liebo in April (Jane)

The heavenly scriptures in March were misprinted, and no one knew about them. The hills in the suburbs are covered with snow, and the azaleas and cherry blossoms on the mountainside are still innocently waiting for spring.There is no doubt in March, only I care about the debate between Ruixue and Huaji, just like caring about whether the flood of life can allow life to burn.However, people are tired of living, and can they turn candles in Zizhu, or wine, or can a century-old river support a crab?So, I boldly exhausted myself, and tactfully praised with the voice of a jackdaw after the meeting of fighting words: "How hopeful this world is!" Then, let's go.

Until a strange collection of poems floated in front of my eyes, the first edition of cold poems was still printed for a year, (we are the descendants of poems!) The preface of the poem was written two years ago. Restore poetry to the life of first pregnancy, or six or eight years.So, I did the first happy thing in my life, buying all the collections displayed in the three bookstores—forgive me for my recklessness!Unfamiliar poets, all lives that are not cherished should be proudly out of print! However, when I turned all the collections at the same time to the last page titled "The Last Love Poem", the afternoon rain just happened to sneak through the cracks in the curtains.What the camel clouds in March dumped was the water valley in February, just like a thin poetic boat carrying the messy hemp accumulated over the years.So, I laughed softly, literature is really a never-tiring place of exile!Those tattooed people come to confess and draw charges without having to ask for a confession, because this is the only place where criminals are allowed to complain slowly and then be sentenced by themselves, and only this place would rather indulge than kill by mistake.

Forgive me for cutting the cold and upright official court clothes into a well-fitting sun-seeking commoner, and cutting your one-piece silk embroidery into a safe pocket, and your skillful three-line rhyme and business style, in my hands, become sewing and mending patchwork map.Be quiet, the ghostly rain in March, I want to rummage through the suitcases, and then tear off a towel that wipes away tears without sweat. I keep wandering, Because I'm afraid of a heart in prison Finally, I came to this forest that has accumulated rain all the year round Nothing could be easier for you to return to me the letters I have written to you for seven years.

Make an appointment to meet at the gate of the hospital and have a good dinner.The acrid smell of medicine is still wafting from the corner of your clothes, this should be the most sterile date.It's a pity that the bleak night makes you look pale, as if the performance of life and death is still whipping your thin and long body.The highest record is that you saw thirteen children die in a week. You often said that you have learned to let your mind go blank when facing the death of patients, and continue to be a person who does not care about eating, bathing, and sleeping.In the early days, in the poem "Egret" you wrote, you once majestically asked heaven and earth to give you this white dress; in the red dress, you wrote this in the "Guandu Manuscript" a few years later:

I am afraid i am your corpse clothes non-wedding finery And quietly remember: "Every time when a patient is in critical condition, we know that it is useless, but still reluctantly do some first aid work. The purpose is not to save the patient, but to comfort the family." You don't write poems for a long time, and the broken wrist is just to weave more beautiful lies to feed the desperate eyes of the dying patient.Or let yourself be immersed in the splendor of lies all the time, and quietly forget the besieged reality.You are thinner and taller, and your letters to me are getting shorter and shorter. I can't see that behind the trips to the emergency room and the cancer ward, you tremble and refuse to discuss the principle of life.

Finally, we have also come to this moment. The meeting is not to make a lie but to pay off the face. For seven years, we each weave our own lies in different ways, and we have indeed escaped the dangerous shoal of reality unscathed.Only at this moment, you are willing to be honest in front of me, just as the only thing I don't want to face is you.Then, how unfortunate are we that we cannot be taken in by the indifferent dreams, and how lucky we are to go to the meeting alone after going through a lot of calamities. Passing through the new park, all the charmers are wandering in the Black Forest. Someone must be looking for "A Midsummer Night's Dream" diligently, and someone is going to the pond to imitate fishing without strings.We went our separate ways quietly, as if we had agreed to visit two close friends, one was you seven years ago, and the other was me seven years ago, as if they were lingering in the intensive care unit, dying and refusing to see, etc. Relatives to identify the body.

"Why are you walking so fast?" you yelled. "It's cold! And it's going to rain." The lights floated and the piano sounded like someone kicking over a bucket of glass beads by a careless person.Where did the last supper of Jesus begin when the aperitifs were served by immaculate white-handed waiters? "Bring it, you want to give me something." Shyly, you handed me a heavy bag of things with hesitant gestures. "Can I dismantle it now?" I asked slyly. "No, you can go back and look again, not now." "What is it? Is it a book? Is it the Bible? ... or ... it's really heavy!" I weighed it again and again, the weight of seven years.

"You... Go back and look, the only, only request." So, I pretended I didn't know anything, and continued to have dinner with you. I hated my sensitivity, just as I hated myself for always being able to deal with it with a smile on the pins and needles.And I couldn't bear to shake my sleeves, how precious this dinner was.Let me leave you with one last leeway, don't worry, let me block the bitter wind and rain, you can speak slowly. "Later, I met a second girl who understood what I wrote and thought, and no one has ever been like her..." you say. "I feel that in an unknown place, there is something that seems to be far away, but also seems to be close; it seems to be outside the body, and it seems to be in the body, which has been attracting me. I can't describe what it is—maybe it makes me The unknowable power of the beautiful scenery; maybe it is the irresistible force that has pushed me forward since I was a child; maybe it is a call, a joy, a dream in the deepest part of my heart every moment; maybe it is Callowriji ( Coleridge in his "Literary Biography" described the 'nature's essence', which affirms in advance that there is a 'connection' between nature in a higher sense and the soul of man...Thinking, thinking The "Guandu Manuscript" was written in this state of mind..." the young medical practitioner wrote in the letter.

"Does she understand you as deeply as you understand yourself?" I asked. "I try to show her what I live for," you say. "I have been here for more than two weeks, seeing patients every day, just like being in a hospital. There is a lot of space, and watching the sea and stars has become a self-forgetful pastime. I am very happy to walk into the 'time' to experience the palpitations of time. It is written in the Bible that if life passes through the fire of the alchemist and the lye of the fuller, you will surely taste the overflowing wine cup, so I can better understand the groan of the dying patient, and I can truly walk through the deep water of the sick eye waves and torrents.

At the time when "your waterfall sounds, the abyss responds to the abyss", although the long night is still long, I still wait by the patient's side, the flower buds in the wind and rain, and the morning stars that shine in the sky... This is me I sincerely want to tell you..." There was a letter written in the military camp by the sea in Dongyin. "For her, I refused all contacts. I told another girl that I was waiting for someone; she cried and got married." You became depressed. "Ah!" I said, "this girl is a solid wall! Is it because you can't accept her as a non-Christian, or is she unable to accept your Lord?"

"I have changed from a novice who just wanted to love and not to sympathize, to a doctor who almost makes money. I even fell into the desire to satisfy my inner desire to make great achievements through research and academic speeches. I couldn't extricate myself. I am even afraid that I will die suddenly due to some reason (many doctors are killed because they are too tired to drive and doze off). At present, I am studying an 'endogenous foxglove-like factor', and I am eager to get rid of it within two years. It is analyzed and released to the world to satisfy one's temporary pleasure... I don't know who I am? "I long for marriage, but I'm also afraid of the role change brought about by marriage. I'm a painful empty city. Until, I met a 'female writer'. I like to be friends with her very much, but my intuition and church and all People think I can't marry a non-Christian. I believe I can be a good friend to her, but I don't know if I can be a good husband to her? I can't accept any conflict between husband and wife because of their beliefs, and I hope This female writer is living a happy life, and I certainly hope that the person I marry is also a Christian... I may choose to be celibate, I am a contradictory person." The forty-second letter reads. "Indeed," I sipped the hot coffee, "a father in heaven must choose his daughter-in-law on earth, just as an ordinary woman wants to choose her father in heaven." "I don't know what's really going on in her heart, she's really strong!" You say. "She may understand your persistence, but you may not be able to enter her stubborn infield. You are all sailing in the sea of ​​truth, along different whale paths. You only want her to come to your boat, and you know her boat is How did it happen with empty hands? She loves her boat more than you, just as you love your boat more than her. If you give up the boat for her, you are no longer worthy in her eyes, if she abandons the boat for you , she will torment herself with a lifetime of regrets. Indeed, there is a faint reality that exists far beyond what love can cover up. If it is not based on a love formed from a heartfelt search for eternal life, it is no prouder than a mote of dust. You once loved Amazed to find each other sailing the same ocean; now, arguing with each other just to not be in the same boat. Supposing she would tie your ropes to her hull and not ask you to abandon ship, would you accept her Don’t ask her to capsize? If your religion doesn’t allow you to sail side by side, you will only lose her, forever.” "I am a failed preacher!" You sighed. "No!" I said, "if you had not succeeded in opening your heart, she would have been your wretched wife. When you read Psalm 23 to her: 'The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want He made me lie down in green pastures, He led me beside still waters. He quickened my soul, He led me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.' Believe it, she promised herself to find another place The land of Canaan that no one has ever been to. If she is still beautiful in your heart, it is because of this uncompromising exploration and daring innocence that is beautiful enough.She has never served any master in her life, and when she praises you, she praises God.You have believed in the Lord, and you should look up to it all your life. Since you live in the house of Jehovah and enjoy the bread He bestows, why do you bother to find another empty shell of marriage?I only heard that someone tried every means to convert his thatched hut into a palace, but I have never heard of another thatched hut being built inside the palace.You have enabled her to walk her own path of righteousness, and this is the greatest gospel you have given her.She lives in her poor mill, and she wears the yoke and grinds grain all day long. You have to realize that it is not for herself, but for the unidentifiable and unattached everything—let the void be filled with glass pearls, and the fifteenth generation Every day is a good day, let a life be willing to break everything; as if you live to glorify God.You have to watch her crush, just as she watched you for seven years. " The last letter was written like this: "In my mind, you have always been a noble soul, whom I admire. The longer I know you, the more I feel that you are a pure and happy water in my life. "For you, I have endured a lot of hardships, and I don't mention these. I am too aware of the difficulties that exist between us, so I dare not wait. I want to forget the world several times, and I always meet quietly again at the end of the mountain. It is a kind of reluctance. "I know that I can't be your partner and walk with you. In this world where we can see, hear and hear, God will not put my hand in yours. I have promised all these up. "For so many years, I have been fortunate to be your biggest sharer. Every time I meet, you never hesitate to pour your inner life into my cup. People like Joshua cut down the vines from the valley of Eshcol A branch with a bunch of grapes on it, and some pomegranates and figs... You kept me from becoming a blind obedient, you inspired my will to pursue the supreme freedom, if one day I finally find my Fields of Canaan, I have to thank you for giving me wings. "Believe me, I respect your choice, and you have to understand it. My stubbornness is not because of any realistic criticism of you, but because of my loyalty to my own life. You are very beautiful, and you have always been more than me. beauty. "You have also written poetry. You must know that the mill of creation is lonely and barren all the way. There is not a day when my humble spirit is not working and studying here. If I have any desire for ease, I will be abandoned. I am used to walking in poverty , After gnawing coarse grains, there is a feeling of honey juice when swallowing. Perhaps, this is my Canaan land. "Don't fantasize about the future. If you meet a happy sister, I should pray for you. You are such a delight, your cup should not be empty for me. "Just say goodbye like this. Believers and unbelievers cannot be yoked together." Let us drink a night of bitter tea Tell the vicissitudes of life We are all a group of persistent and no regrets, home with wandering In your young and weak life, I recorded this volume of scriptures, and I hope that one day, you will explain it to me. If the memories on the tip of the pen can be wrapped around my hands one by one, I have already calculated it. When we follow the example of the young bhikkhunis and go to the big city of Sravasti to beg for food, beg for ourselves in the city, and return to this place, I will take it back. The largest and most beautiful food in the bowl is offered to you, and you are not allowed to throw a piece of ice core into my pot like before, taking advantage of people's surprise. We really know each other by drinking water. It should have been a thin summer afternoon, and I still remember some wind fibers on the short cuffs.In the gap between class and class, go to the tea room next to the patio of the Faculty of Arts to pour a cup of barley tea, and lean on the brick arch to look at the scenery.A row of slender and green ones makes me miss the beauty of winter cherry's frozen lips, although that beauty is desolate, and I would rather choose the peerless beauty than the straightforward grace.Beside the gate wall, there are old trees with thick shade, dragging the wind from the sky; the grass is green and glazed, and white butterflies swim in twos and threes.I sighed softly, feeling that there was an unknown world changing in front of my eyes, sometimes it was a piece of lost poem, sometimes it turned into faint floating smoke, and sometimes it was a cry of regret——from the most delicate moment in a person’s life Shensi... These criss-crossed spiritual feathers were finally pecked by a bird's cry from the sky, and then another voice asked: "You, are you Jane?" I get nervous, you know, I often forget my name, and I resist admitting myself in front of everyone, I must be very helpless that day!After a long pause, he said: "Yes." Then he asked in a very clumsy dialogue: "Then, who are you?" Knowing that you also learn Chinese, you also write poems, like looking for four-petaled clover among the three-petaled sorrel in the wild: "Hey, there is another tree hiding here!" When I am happy, I will eat people: "So it is learning Brother, quickly call senior sister!" You revealed your journey from the Faculty of Science to the Palace of Literature with a look of embarrassment on your face, which is more than two years older than me.I see that you are gentle and friendly, you are clearly a brother next door, deliberately bullying you to the end: "I don't care about my age!" You grinned, and greatly tolerated my arrogant and reckless temperament. When I returned that afternoon, inexplicably, there was a kind of half-pain and half-joy of being tightly embraced by life. I thought that there must be a memory of a world hidden in that arch. After all, I am only good at verbal dominance. After exchanging letters with you in the future, I realized how many majestic and tragic qualities are condensed under your thin body, and you deeply know how to hide your strength and bide your time. Kong, let the pondered life playfully come to me in the posture of a boy.We don't talk about life experience, we only talk about life, and we meet more often on the campus road, and we just say goodbye with a smile, but I firmly believe: "This person is a very lonely person!" At that time, your face had already been slanted slightly due to the latent lesion. Anyway, it has been cut and it is a chronic tumor, so don’t worry about it. It only becomes haggard when you are exhausted physically and mentally. My name is Be careful, the letter you came back said calmly: "I saw you drifting away with a book in my arms this morning in the Literary Mind class, and suddenly I felt a sense of being far away, and I didn't have time to tell you. There is a reply to the rhyme, After class, I was surprised to see you sitting at your desk in exhaustion. I remember one time when I met you unexpectedly late at night. You said to come out from the general plan and go back to the dormitory. You decided to act in the dark, But there is a layer of paleness after being weak and tired. I have not been able to greet you more, but you have seen my haggard." You have always been reluctant to call me "Jian 媜", saying that this word is too firm and sonorous, with a little Dao Bing, you would rather write down "Minyu" in a serious manner, saying that with the word "Min", you will be able to flow freely without being taboo.I am deeply moved, you all cherish your life for me, and what can I do for you?The reckless temperament of Hengqiang's poems in his character always makes me kill and crusade those closest to me.It is rare to have a quiet gathering. When we parted, I inadvertently sprang out the beast, the bird of prey that is ungrateful and revengeful: "Take care, the next time we meet may be nine days, or nine years." Your peaceful face Flickering a little autumn, and accepting these language opportunities with a broad smile, your letter of safety usually ends like this: "Write letters, talk, and be happy day after day. See when you are free, small talk. I am worried about you. Words become prophecies." Afterwards, I left the college, hunger and thirst day in and day out, and lived starry nights where the cow drank and then was happy.Occasionally you have an immortal poetic heart, so you write some sad letters to those close to you, and you always reply quickly: "I went out for three days, and when I came back from the rain late at night, a small stack of letters appeared in front of the eaves. You are kind in it." Your handwriting, of course I like your letter.  … My condition, good or bad, will eventually be known only after being stabbed.In the past two months, I have been sick and guarded myself, day and night, I know that I have to give endless love to the countless changes in life.I think, he is heading for Xiaohe, just like your Mercedes-Benz, he must do the same.Step by step, nothing more than practice.So far, I am still deeply optimistic, and I hope that you will get together in the future, and I hope that your career will be determined at that time, and I will also be refreshed. " We were deeply optimistic about the future, clapped our hands several times to discuss each other, and secretly promised ourselves to be creative, and disdain to attack the tune.Being angry makes me just like me, spouting ink, as if I want to fight with thousands of people. You saw that I was very thin, and you only told me not to be too tired at night. I felt wronged and said: "Just live this once, I want to be domineering!" You said earnestly: "Early wisdom, it's hard to enjoy life, it's been like this since ancient times." You value my stubborn life much more than your own.On that birthday, you specially went to find jade to give me, a dragon and a phoenix circled the clean bottle (ah! Could it be the clean bottle of Guanyin?), you said the old man who made the jade said that the texture of this piece of jade has the quality of lotus, On the way home, you passed Nanhai Road, you went to the lotus pond in the botanical garden, and gently soaked the jade again... You said: "Life always feels like the prosperity is exhausted, but it is not stained with mud! " The illness is playing tricks on you, your eyes start to cry unconsciously, and you often have difficulty sleeping because of wiping your tears in the middle of the night, and you modestly say that this is caused by past karma.In the remote mountains and wilds where you live, you are like a virgin talking with the masters of life and death, and the letter of sickness and living alone does not change the trickle of handwriting: "One night I couldn't sleep peacefully, so I went out to the balcony. The sky in the mountains is clear, the moonlight Large pieces scattered all over the ground. Suddenly, I saw my own shadow under the moon, thin and thin, timidly, very familiar to the eyes, but it was clearly not the 'me' in the sun. I thought about it blankly , Ah, that’s right—it’s the ‘I’ in fairy tales! I was so moved to look at that figure, and then led him into a dream. Occasionally, I realized that I wished to be like Zhuang Zhou, between sick and not sick.” You had the second operation to remove the mutated sarcoma on the right face. I will give you a string of amber rosary beads, which were given to me by a master in the temple who suddenly took them off. I am happy for the "sudden" image in my life.You put it on your wrist carefully, and closed your eyes weakly on the sickbed.I became naive again, like a spy, who will give you the antidote before the battlefield where you are fighting hand-to-hand, so that you can boldly and fearlessly meet the poisonous arrows.After the illness, you said: "I am gradually willing to reduce all the sadness, ignorance, great pain, and ignorance to a kind of simple optimism. I think it is a certain ultimate state of life. You know and I know. " The most precious and beautiful should be the six months before you went to Hong Kong to study comparative literature. You write less poetry, and you devour the classics of literary criticism. You joke that this is an "anti-American" project, but I must pay attention to it, you are not unloving of beauty.I say: "It doesn't matter whether your home is beautiful or not, read the original document every day, read a person like bean sprouts, this kind of beauty is a bastard!" You always go back to Chang Gung Hospital every week to track your condition, we will meet at noon, take advantage of it When I am off work, you teach me to read.Often in a small coffee shop in the middle of the city, you take out a stack of white paper and a pen, and after taking a sip of slightly cold black tea, you start to call me "Fukou" (Michel Michel) in a hoarse voice. Foucault), I hugged my knees quietly and listened, entering the most magnificent and feminine space that my mind could touch, your words floated: "...Now, writing has been related to sacrifice, even to the sacrifice of life..." I suddenly realized: "Wait, the structure of my next book is out, do you want to listen to it!" Knowledge The excavation of research is usually transformed into the exploration of creation. I am a rusty knife, and I use you as a whetstone.Didn't you also say that my life is too powerful to listen to your "Ziwei" after all.In truth, you are a distant peace, for whose sake I must go on incessantly. Once, when the tea was cold, you took out a yellowed black and white photo for me to see: A ten-year-old boy is leaning against the rental counter of a comic book store, white and timid, with a mysterious attraction and slightly burning sadness and joy in his eyes, quietly looking at the world. I exclaimed: "How beautiful! Is it you?" You said happily: "Yes!" That time, you sent me back to work in the agency, along the brick road with kapok clapping hands and black ink falling on the gun, you sighed slightly: "God! Give me time!" One year in Hong Kong, you finally dropped out of school due to a massive hemorrhage, and went straight to Chang Gung, Linkou from the Chiang Kai-shek Airport, and the doctor issued a critical illness notice.But you wake up faintly, looking at the friends and classmates coming and going by the hospital bed, or, you are still waiting, when the parents you raised are dead, and your biological parents are waiting to be found.You couldn't eat at that time, your tongue was blocked by the tumor, and you couldn't speak.When you saw me coming, you struggled to get out of bed and took out a piece of delicate soap from the messy luggage. Many years ago, I said that taking three baths a day is better than being happy in your heart. You wrote on the paper: "Bath more !” At that moment—that moment that can only happen once in billions of years, I want to ruthlessly put you to death. For half a year, I resisted going to see you again, and I finally couldn't read all the sutras I wanted to recite to you seven or forty-nine times. I suppressed every trace of my thoughts about you.There were only two dreams, one time you passed by in mid-air in the image of a child, and I looked up and disappeared; once you came in style, with a white face, I was overjoyed and asked, "How are you?" Smiling without answering, he said for a long time, "I haven't started getting sick yet!" After waking up from the dream, I deeply hated myself. Isn't the joy and beauty in this world deconstructed enough?Even in the dream land where you can be the master, you have to disarm cowardly.After all, I am a coward, not worthy of heroic talk. So, dear brother, let's recall that afternoon together, all the dead gods and ghosts should sit quietly and listen to my narration. On that day, I borrowed a wheelchair and pushed you to the lake outside the hospital building. The autumn sun was densely scattered, turning empty, and occasionally wringing out the wild grass on the brick bank.I feel that your thin bones are like the setting sun in a long river, and my floating thoughts are like a lonely smoke in the desert.When we sit quietly facing the lake, we are about to forget the safety of this life. Suddenly, a group of egrets leap out from the distant shore of the lake, soaring up and skimming the lake, they are nowhere to be found.The lake water is still there, like a shipwreck, the sea is quiet, there is no wind, and there are clouds gathering in the sky. You ask me on paper: "How many?" I replied: "Twelve." You nodded peacefully. Perhaps, there will no longer be any scriptures that are so hard to beat your teeth.When you always conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of poetry, I try to break down the cliff of fate with the cliff of novel; Twelve egrets fly over the autumn lake. like existentialism, or Lao Zhuang, Or a cup of afternoon tea, Or two borrowed books. You are not angry when you are abused in every way, or you are only angry for a while.It seems that I have deposited a huge sum of money with you, and I squander it as much as I want, and there is always a lot of money.Sometimes you lose your sense of propriety, and you put on a vicissitudes of life, like a person who has lost his way, thinking about an unfathomable post, and I know it is time to apologize, and I touch your deeply locked forehead and say: "What method, who told you to owe me?" Me. Don’t be angry, if you are angry, you have to pay me interest.” Often have a breakfast date, or enter the night market.Hot coffee, double-sided fried poached eggs, toasted toast, and three-point morning newspaper.You always put sugar, a circle of white milk for me, and even yawn unrealistically.I like the morning light, newspapers, and the smoke of hot coffee more than the food on the plate. You half-coaxed and half-deceived, saying that you will be ugly if you are thin, and I said: "Hey, just eat!" You really came here with a fork of egg slices, and I never hesitate to give the most direct compliments: "I did a good job today, I will record a small merit." The morning always makes me happy, as if absorbing the power of the sunrise, shooting from sleepy eyes to the flow of stinging stings, with the wildness of galloping and the desire to conquer.I am harsh on you in the morning, you have a foggy face, listen to me happily plan every job, help you organize the itinerary of the day and the key points of the debate, the results of the battle may not be left to us, but we join hands Had a good fight. At night, the city is even more ready to move. At night, I am usually a quiet mollusk, easy to admit mistakes, good at servants, and not hurting other people's self-esteem.You are active in the black time and space, and you lead me to walk in the market with a sharp spirit.A bowl of stewed pork rice, grouper fish soup, and boiled shrimp are also unforgettable daily meals.I am good at peeling shrimp and picking fish without bones, and I am good at serving you.You can count my faults with confidence, and you will be ruthless in the daytime. I have always been kind and repent to you obediently. When the market retreated quietly, and the night was falling, I yawned a long time, and you said: "Let's go! Go home." You go your way, and I go my way home.This city is undoubtedly our huge family home, each of us has to go through a long passage, you go back to your bedroom, I have my bed. Then, it is true that a more lenient law must be used to measure your orbit and mine.You never gave up the familiar tide of life because of me—whether it’s the past emotions, the current waves, or the approaching waves; I don’t have to modify the established order for you—I have relationships and jobs that I can’t give up program, and about future programming.When we meet, we actually take the opportunity to release ourselves from the tortuous track, join hands in a big and unreasonable gesture, and find the way.There are still immature fairy tales in your forty-two voice (otherwise, why do you always sneak up on me with rubber bands!); my twenty-seven Huarong still can’t forget the willfulness of being a child at first (very I like to hold your big hands and gnaw your fingers one by one!); you sometimes turn into a child and sometimes become an old man, and sometimes I am a human and sometimes a beast. We vividly perform the characters imprisoned in our hearts, using the city as the stage, and pedestrians as blind audience.Those tiring laws and regulations cannot be overthrown and can always be forgotten temporarily. Although you complained that you have been tossed around for half your life, I never encouraged you to give up—those burdens have already become flesh and blood, and they continue to be passed on after we parted. You bear it.If so, I hope that every meeting, through rational analysis and emotional dredging, will help you to walk proudly.I know very well that love will be light and love will be thin, but as an honest person, after going through the lashes of love and love, the morality fulfilled will be the most expensive blood in life.Therefore, you can show yourself primitively, and often sit together for a night, talking about the north and south of the river where you grew up alone, about the mutual destruction of dreams and reality, about the many women you have passed away, and about your wife and children who have gone away... Often, I see that A tear that hasn't shed for more than thirty years. In the same way, I was able to review the long-lost ethics in you, which belonged to the desire of the father and brother.An overly feminine family background prompted me to constantly train myself to be majestic and imitate the authority of the masculine society; while the keynote of my life is the deadly lyrical tradition, the kind of three-autumn osmanthus and ten-li lotus, so I used you to build a lake, and I was able to sing Dancing shadows, looking in the mirror by the water (Ah! I must have Electra complex after all).In fact, every development of life needs to suck the fruits of various loves. For all the feelings of emptiness, people always use their inner potential to recreate in another dimension.You have been modified by me without knowing it, and I pronounce it according to the image in my heart; just as I am willing to bend down for you, squeeze myself into a wide-mouthed 罍, to hold your collapsed block after drinking—— Any love affair, if it cannot inspire another role and rules to bridge the cliff between dreamland and reality, will not be cherished by me after all. So, we debated marriage very sensibly. You said that the never-resting waves of love will inevitably end up in depression. It is not that the women in the past did not love, but they found that the more they loved, the more they fell into the mud; I said, this is deprivation, and there are invisible hands hidden in love.You said, what if we get married?I asked, what do you think of me?Haven't the falling love locks deterred you?You said, I am not equal to a woman in your heart, I belong to a kind of transparent neutrality - like day and night, sometimes clear like a man, sometimes like a woman nervous, you can fully enjoy telling, from the most delicate male peak to confide The most gentle woman (you are sometimes as careful as a handmaid), I am happy with what you have stated, which means that there are infinite possibilities for a person to make multiple creations of his (her) inner life.And I began to describe, about the love that for many years we have been on a different track, and now it seems to be a track (note that those who abandon the world track usually spend more effort to navigate for themselves, and there is no possibility of going back). We achieve a nameless status, live in a house that can't be built, I don't ask you to be my family, as I hate to be anyone's part, you don't have to give up anything to get my infusion, and I have something unspeakable Stubborn but able to be cared for by you, we actively gather and taste the parting we have to do, so we turn the time we can have into a second-by-second wonder.If love is the most beautiful learning, I am willing to testify that it is because we have learned that giving is better than taking, freedom is better than collection, transcendence is better than staying together, and life and morality are better than secular luxury.Presumably you understand that marriage is just an ark in the sea of ​​love. If we are willing to float on the sea, why should we be greedy for the short-term sunshine-if we want to ride the waves, let’s ride the waves to the end!I have made a bet on the table, do you dare to sit on the dealer? Do we still need a shell?Let the well-known rules of the game in the shell gradually devour our rules.With my unstable personality, it is inevitable to deprive you layer by layer; with your deeply rooted masculine role, you will gradually interfere with me in the end.Forgive my deep pessimism, marriage also has great righteousness, but it is not suitable for me-I like to experiment, easy to overthrow, so there are constant, continuous tears. I prefer to regard this city as a deserted wilderness. That night, I climbed onto the flower terrace of the building square, and you grabbed me, humped me on your shoulders, and walked through two streets in awe-inspiring manner; I was defeated Afterwards, if there is an internal injury, that internal injury will also carry the carefreeness of being defiant.One day, in the middle of the night, I said goodbye, and my heart was beating the sorrow of the flowing water. I couldn't bear to bear with you. I just wanted to finish the long night alone. When you said that the wind was blowing, you took off your coat and put me on, and escorted me into the car. Waved to me frequently next to the stop sign, and then walked alone to the street where you were waiting.At that moment, I was on edge again, wanting to stab Dahua's heart fiercely, so I got off at the next stop, ran desperately, crossed the dying lights of the city, and returned to your back dripping with sweat, how thin you are, how thin you are. Smoke, ignite, and spray long into the night sky, like an unarmed man!I blindfolded your eyes and bit your ears hard: "Don't move!" You turned your head and looked at me, your astonished expression turned into wild laughter, and I said triumphantly. In the borrowed time and space, we sat scattered on the most messy tent wall in the city, smoking inexplicable cigarettes, drinking hot-talking wine, I flicked the ashes into your shoes, and asked: "Hey, you don't make it clear, what's the good of marrying you?" You take off your shoes, knock out the ashes, and say, "Three meals a day, two floral clothes, and a handful of pocket money for you." I flicked the ash in again: "Then what do I do when I'm full?" You squeezed my neck: "Is that so, you write the book and I read it - play it again and see!" I flicked the ash in again. I drew a single knife Take a trip to cover the moon with snowflakes silent moon night Only the pigeons flutter up How did you come? Mingming locked you in the dream land, scripted the sun and moon, Fendai Chunqiu, and allowed you to write poems in your spare time, but you flew over Guanling, and before it was too late, you came to me and said: "I have been wandering for half my life, and it rains every time. Return to the boat." I can only say: "Alright, sit down!" I have heard about the mountain alliance and water passing in your life.在茶余饭后，你的身世竟令我思谋，什么样的人，才能与秋水换色，什么样的情，才能百炼钢化成绕指柔。我似乎看到年幼时的你，已然为自己想象海市蜃楼，你愿意成为执戟侍卫，为亘古仅存的一枚日，奉献你绚霞一般的初心。 那么，请不要再怪罪生命之中总有不断的流星，就算大化借你朱砂御笔，你终究不会辜负悲沉的宿命，击倒的人宁愿刎颈，不屑偷生。这次见你，虽然你的眉目仍未能廓然朗清，倒也在一苇航之后，款款立命。你要日复日吐餔，不吐餔焉能归心。 把我当成你回不去的原乡，把我的挂念悬成九月九的茱萸，还有今年春末大风大雨，这些都是你的，总有一日，我会打理包袱前去寻你。但你要答应，先将梦泽填为壑，再伐桂为柱，滚石奠基，并且不许回头望我，这样，我才能听到来世的第一声鸡啼。 你走的时候，留下一把钥匙，说万一你月迷津渡，我可以去开你书中的小屋。我把指环赠你，尽管流离散落，恒有一轮守护你的红日，等候于深夜的山头。 你说：“还要去庙里烧香，像凡夫凡妇。” 那日，我独自去碧山岩，为你拈香，却什么话都没说。 这就是了，所有季节的流转永不能终止。三世一心的兴观群怨正在排练，我却有点冷，也许应该去寻松针，有朝一日，或许要为自己修改征服。 四月的天空如果不肯裂帛，五月的袷衣如何起头？