Chapter 61 Section 61

Peerpi, a city on the French border with Spain.A friend from the Mediterranean Literature Center I just met asked you if you have nostalgia, and you answered no, saying that you have already cut it off, and it’s over once and for all!On the side of the square opposite the hotel, a small shop selling pastries and ice cream opened for the opening ceremony, with lights and festoons to attract customers, and a small brass band was vigorously advocating, very happy to participate.A little old woman is dancing the local Catalan folk dance. The enthusiasm of the southerners and their French with a big tongue will let you pass the test.Qilongguan is that.Turn off Guanmu.laugh.You are never going back.Dragon one day; someone asked.No, that's not your country. It's only in your memory, and it has become a dark source, with inexplicable emotions gushing out. This is your unique China, which has nothing to do with that country.

You have peace of mind, you are no longer a rebel, but now you are an observer, you are not an enemy, and you no longer care about anyone who regards you as an enemy, so looking back, you are also thinking about where to go in silence. You don't know how you brought out this picture in a book at the time, he was thin and bald.You look at this old photo that is still in hand, it is a bit yellowish, it was taken more than 30 years ago in the labor reform farm called "May 7th Cadre School", you want to understand something from his eyes.He held up his shaved head like a gourd ladle, and he was a prisoner with a kind of arrogance, which may have saved him from really breaking down, but now this arrogance is completely unnecessary.Now you are a free bird, fly wherever you want.You feel as if there is still a piece of virgin land in front of you, at least new to you.You are lucky that you still have this kind of curiosity, and you don't want to be immersed in memories, he has become your footprint.

Take this moment as the starting point, regard writing as a fugue, or meditation or monologue, and get joy and satisfaction from it, and no longer fear anything. Freedom is the elimination of fear.These infertile words you left behind, let time wear away.Shui Heng, this has no personal meaning to you, and this writing is not the purpose of your life, so I still write it in order to fully experience the present moment. This moment!In Pelpifa, after breakfast, a vehicle passed by under the window, and a bright shadow slid across the spherical surface on the creamy round lampshade of the street lamp.There are so many lights and shadows in this world, and they will also fade away.When you enjoy the light and shadow at this moment, you should consider this as a light and shadow, and you will be a little surprised, ah, this fleeting light and shadow!

What a beautiful piece of music, Schnittke, you are listening to his Grand Concerto No. 6. In the elegant sound, the pent-up anxiety of existence is sublimated in a very high scale, and the long notes on the strings are like light and shadow. And when it passes, it will be vented.Your contemporary Schnittke, you don't need to know his life, but he is talking to you!Every note across the strings evokes the sound of chords on the high scale of the strings. Outside the window is the bright sunshine of early summer.The city of Perpijon in the Eastern Pyrenees region had a city-state constitution eight hundred years ago, advocating tolerance, peace and freedom, a city that accepts asylum, and the local Kadaran people are proud of the "eight hundred Years of democracy and freedom are under threat today," read an editorial in a special issue of the city's 800th anniversary.

You never thought you'd end up here one day, let alone a reader asking you for an autograph.A young man asks you to write a sentence for his girlfriend, saying that the girl is busy and can't come.You write the next sentence: Language is a miracle, it makes people communicate!And people often can't communicate with each other.But I didn't write the second half of the sentence, so you can't just scribble and spoil other people's good intentions.You can play with yourself as much as you want, but you can't play with words casually. The same must be true of music, unnecessary bells and whistles are best erased.It was this necessity that Schnittke was looking for, and he didn't use the speakers to show off, he used them sparingly, leaving so many gaps, that every sentence conveyed a real feeling, without putting on airs or grandstanding.You have to have something to say before you say it. If you have nothing to say, it is better to be silent.

The light and shadow of each car flashed across the spherical lampshade. There were sycamore trees and palm trees on the other side of the street, a quiet small park.This is the hometown of the sycamore, this kind of sycamore has been planted in school, and it has almost spread all over the world, and it has also entered your memory. When you were a child, there were everywhere in the streets and parks of the city. When you kissed a girl for the first time, The little Wuzi was leaning against the trunk of a sycamore tree that had peeled off its skin, and it was also summer, hotter than this.

It's good to be alive, you are singing the carol of life, so you sing because life doesn't treat you badly, and sometimes it makes your heart palpitate. Not long before Gervi’s female companion Martina committed suicide, she found a homeless person on the street and brought her back to her room for the night. She committed suicide after the end, and the tape left said that she could not stand the mental hospital, and her death was the same as any It doesn't matter to people, if you get tired of work and commit suicide, this is also the end.You don't know how you're going to end up, and you don't have to imagine one.If one day the neo-fascists came to power, you would hide here in Pepperdine?At that time, it would still be a city that tolerated asylum.You don't fantasize about disasters.

It is an exaggeration to say that people are born to suffer, or that the world is "a desert, and all disasters do not fall on you. Thanking life is like thanking my Lord. The question is who is your Lord? Fate, Contingency? What you should be grateful for is this awareness of this self, this awakening of one's own existence, in order to extricate oneself from difficulties and distress. The large leaves of palm and sycamore quiver slightly.A man cannot be broken if he is not willing to be broken.A person can oppress him, abuse him, as long as he is not suffocated, he may still have a chance to raise his head. The problem is to hold this breath, hold this breath, and don't suffocate to death in the dunghill.It is possible to rape a person, woman or man, physical or political violence - it is impossible.Wuquan.There is a person, the spirit must belong to you, keep it in your heart.It is about Schnittke's Lile, he is still groping in the dark, looking for a way out is like looking for the feeling of light, just relying on the little light in his heart, this feeling will not be extinguished.He clasped his palms to guard the little light in his heart, and moved slowly, in the dense darkness, in the mud, not knowing the way out, pretending to be dead like a chrysalis, closing his eyes to bear the silent pressure, and the soft ringtone, that A little awareness of survival, the beauty of Liu Sheng's protuberance, that soft light, and that little heartbeat spread out...

There is also the fragrance of the straw that was harvested that year on the bed, the smell of the sheets washed in the pond and exposed to the sun, the sour smell of sweat on Kona's body, and the smell of his smudged lips.Red's soft pleasure, and the throbbing in his heart when he touched the sharp tits when he grabbed her strong arm and pushed her" door, he used it to warm himself! Fucked her in his imagination, and resorted to words , written in his book, for spiritual balance. You are full of gratitude for women, not just lust.You ask, they don't have to give you.You are extremely greedy, you can’t get everything, God didn’t give you, you don’t have to thank God, but after all, you have a general feeling of gratitude, gratitude to the wind, gratitude to the trembling trees in the wind, gratitude to nature, and gratitude to the parents who gave you life .You have no resentment now, and you have become peaceful. Maybe you are old. When you climb uphill, you pant and start to be stingy with the energy that you couldn't use up before. This is a sign of old age.You are already going downhill, and the wind is picking up, no, you are not in a hurry to go down, the distant mountain in the clouds seems to be at the same height as you, just go down, don’t care if the slope is an abyss, it’s better to go when you fall Think of the setting sun on the distant mountains.

In that small harbor, there was a small church on a protruding rock, and a white cross was erected, on which a black iron Christ was nailed facing the Mediterranean Sea.In the calm harbor, on the beach, men and women and children running around, two women in swimsuits are lying idle in the crevices of the rocks. They say that Matisse lived and painted here, and the sun is transparent and dazzling. This is the light and color in Matisse's works, and you are walking into the darkness. They drive you to Barcelona, ​​where there are huge eggs on top of the ocher-red Dali Museum, the old urchin Spain is a happy nation, the streets are full of people wandering, the Spanish girls with thick eyebrows and black eyes have tall hair bridge of the nose.Then go to a country restaurant, an old mill, and a family sits at the dining table diagonally across from you, husband, wife, and their daughter, whose cheeks are rosy and rosy.The girl with long eyebrows and dark eyes has not fully grown yet, and one day she will become a strong and sensual woman like the one in Picasso's painting.She sat across from her parents, restless, thinking about her own thoughts, maybe she didn't know what she was thinking, this is life, she doesn't know her future, does it matter?She didn't know that she would be in pain, maybe her anxiety had also begun to wake up, and the long black and lush hair set off her fair skin and bright red cheeks; she was about thirteen or fourteen years old, and the thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl was already restless , This is the beauty of life, just like Marguerite's pain, will she also become Marguerite?

What you are hearing now is Kodaly's Mass, chorused by female voices on the organ.You also have a religious feeling that people need to pray as much as they need to eat and have sex.Last night, the woman upstairs in your room called the bed, which made you restless at night.From one o'clock in the middle of the night until more than three o'clock, screaming, panting, and then laughing.You don’t know whether it’s rape or sex on the floor. At first you think it’s the next door to your bed, but then you hear the sound of the floor, as if it’s a sex game on the floor, or the kind of rape Marguerite said. If it's true, no one in the hotel room would bother to ask.Finally you hear laughter, laughing out loud, arousing a strong desire in you.And now you are at peace, the organ and the contralto and tenor are wonderfully combined. When I was having breakfast in the restaurant downstairs, all I heard was "Good morning" in German, polite and polite, a group of tall and strong middle-aged and elderly gentlemen, a German tour group, the buffet, took the whole plate Diced sausage and roasted ham slices, I eat a lot, and I am not afraid of getting fat.These big boys don't call beds like that, you think.They ate non-stop, seldom talked, and the sound of knives and forks was very low.There was only a girl at the table by the window, and an elderly man opposite, drinking coffee after eating, neither of them spoke, they were looking at the street.Yesterday's fine weather has changed, the ground is wet and the rain has stopped.They are less like lovers and more like a father taking his financially dependent daughter on vacation, the one who howls and laughs may still be sound asleep in the room. Organ and chorus.The hotel rooms are full of elegant old furniture, heavy oak tables, dark brown carved wardrobes, and wooden beds with columns carved with flowers.The spherical surface of the street lamp shade outside the window is not shining, there will be no traffic passing by on the street, it is almost noon on Sunday, and you are waiting for a friend to pick you up by car to go to the airport, and the plane returns to Paris after eleven o'clock. , From 1991 to 1998 in France