Chapter 22 Section 22

Marguerite doesn't know what's going on now, dragging you into a mud pit to write such a shit book, making you in a dilemma.No one is interested in this shit, even you yourself are bored with this kind of suffering. But she signed every letter to you with a yellow six-pointed star, and I can't forget that she is Jewish , and what you want to erase is precisely this brand of pain. You called her seven or eight dozen times, and the tape always repeated the "series of long sentences with lip-tongue sounds, and you only understood" a bit of German... nothing more than please leave a message, but she never replied over the phone.In her last letter, she said: Go find a happy girl, she can't live with you, it will be very painful, double the pain, she hopes to have a stable home, love to have a child, do Once a mother, "Can a Jewish child of Chinese descent be happy?" The Chinese in her letter, some characters are missing strokes, a bit weird, causing a sense of strangeness, not as fluent, friendly, and so Sexy, including her words, she said that the body and sex are so natural, making you feel her warmth and wetness. But her letters are cold, shutting you out of her body and emotions, and bringing The mocking tone makes you bitter. What you interpret is: she is already in her thirties, it is impossible to wander around the world with you, and the next time I meet you will be in Paris or New York? Ulysses forever, modern Odyssey? Let it be an affair, one of your many, she gives you all you want, and that's it. She can't be your woman, break up like a friend, be a friend for a long time Possibly possible, but don't want to be your mistress. Find a French chick and play sex games with her, fulfill your fantasies, inspire you without causing your pain. It's not hard to find a woman like that , a whore like you want, but what she wants is peace and stability, a family that can give her warmth. She is not looking for pain, so she can't get rid of it, but also because of a lack of security, which you can't give her.

But you can't find a woman like this, listen to you tell about the hell of this world, people don't listen to your banal truth, they would rather watch Hollywood disaster horror movies, fabricated fantasies.If you make up a story about sexual abuse, you have sex with maybe a little stimulation, you have an orgasm, and you have no one to talk to, just talk to yourself, and you continue this reflection review or dialogue with yourself Bar. You have to find a calm tone, get rid of the resentment smoldering in your heart, and come in calmly, so that you can calmly express these messy impressions, fleeting memories, and unclear thoughts, and find that it is so difficult .

It is so difficult for you to seek a simple narrative, trying to use the simplest possible voice to express the original appearance of life that has been polluted and muddled by politics.The pervasive politics that you want to cast aside are so closely connected with daily life that they are inextricably linked from speech to behavior, and no one can escape at that time.And what you want to describe is an individual polluted by politics, not the dirty politics. You have to go back to his mentality at the time, and it is even more difficult to make an accurate statement.Many events intertwined in layers of memory can easily become sensational.You avoid exaggeration, you have no intention of writing some stories of suffering, and you only trace your impressions and moods at that time, and you have to carefully eliminate your feelings at this moment and put aside your current thinking.

His experience is deposited in the creases of your memory, how to peel it off layer by layer, scan the layers separately, and watch the events he experienced with a pair of cold eyes, you are you, he is him.It is also difficult for you to go back to his state of mind at that time, he has become so strange, don't paint him with your current complacency and pride, you have to keep a distance, calm down, and observe it.Don't confuse your excitement with his vanity and stupidity, and don't cover up his fear and cowardice, it's so hard, it makes you suffocated.Also don't indulge in his narcissism and self-abuse, you just observe and listen, not appreciate his feelings.

You have to let him, that child, that teenager, that half-grown man, that daydreaming survivor, that madman, that growing cunning, that evil man who hasn't lost his conscience Your past with a little sympathy left, come out of memory, don't justify and repent for him.But when you observe and listen to him, you will naturally feel a kind of uncontrollable melancholy, so don't let this emotion drift into sentimentality.When you uncover him under the mask and examine him, you have to turn him into two fictional characters that have nothing to do with you, waiting to be discovered—this kind of narration can bring you the fun of writing, curiosity and exploration. Spontaneously.

You don't act as a referee, and don't treat him as a victim. The excitement and pain that damage art give way to this trial. What is interesting is neither your trial nor his righteous indignation, nor your sentimentality and his The pain I feel should be the process of contemplation itself.