I can't remember when I started wanting to kill him.Of course that must be after I separated from him.But when I first looked at him, I didn't have this kind of thought. He became more and more intolerable to me, and it will be a later thing. And yet it would come to such a point that his and my desires finally converged.He himself readily consented to surrender his body to death when I made him worthy of death.This saved me a lot of things and a lot of trouble.At the moment of his death, we finally became one, and that moment was extremely enjoyable, more enjoyable than any lovemaking with any woman.

After the bang of the gunshot, I settled my feud with him.He had disappeared, and I lay quietly on the hospital bed, waiting for a woman to cover my eyelids with a ring-wearing hand.He had actively sought death.Death is a feat.Since this feat can only be performed once in a lifetime, it is of the utmost importance.It was after a late roll call at the labor reform farm. While listening to the counting of "one, two, three, four... twelve, thirteen, fourteen...", he was thinking about the way to die.After the purpose is determined, the method is very critical.Without the moon, the sky and the earth were pitch black.There seemed to be starlight, and the lantern in the captain's hand flickered.The counting sounds of each group were hidden in the darkness, and became sounds from another world, like dry raindrops hitting the sandy soil, making a lonely sound. "It's over!" He repeated in his heart.He felt himself floating on the wave of "It's over." The hint of "It's over" keeps coming from afar like a tide, and there is no ground under his feet, allowing "It's over" to impact. "It's over", the word is meaningless, he tried to find meaning in the word "over", that was later.The roll call is over.No one fled, and no one died.This shows that this day is the calmest and most boring day for the labor camp. "It's over" pushed him back to the cell along with the other prisoners in the group.Long and short wooden pegs were smashed on the dirt wall, each one like a tree standing upright.A few years later, he saw trees planted on the ground in the Bois de Boulogne in Paris, and immediately thought of the forest erected on the wall.Someone lit an oil lamp, and one could see all kinds of burden objects, large and small, hanging on all the wooden prongs.The reform-through-labour prisoners made full use of the small space to three-dimensionalize their property, but also narrowed the scope of freedom, making it difficult for people to move forward.When the reform-through-labour prisoners fumbled their way to his 30-centimeter-wide bunk, and his father and father were lying on the straw, he grabbed the rope already hidden under the straw and slipped out.

After a while, the lights went out.Outside, he saw the lights of the chants go out in sequence, and the real world is like a ship drifting away gradually.Eventually the world bid him farewell, at which point he thought he was dead.The sky is high and high, yet as dark as the earth.It was unexpected that death should be so easy. But after all, death still has to go through the last process.Putting your own body to death is no easier than killing someone.Many years later, because of disappointment and anger, he wanted to commit suicide and kill many times, but he terminated it because of consideration of effort, not because of his timidity and kindness.Taking advantage of the last supper—the bowl of thin rice soup that had not been fully digested, he dragged the rope to the threshing floor, and heard the rattling in his stomach as he walked, as if he was pulling a water cart Like a donkey.

He often wants to win by surprise and innovate, but the limited conditions given to him by the labor reform team limit his imagination.To seek death, one must use the oldest and most traditional method—hanging oneself.To be honest, this way of dying is very boring, making people unable to experience the freshness of life until they die.He held the rope and sat down on a wooden bed beside the threshing floor.People must have a short pause before committing suicide, and after a process of thinking, this seems to have become a routine, a link in a set of fixed procedures.Suicides are not taught how to die, but every one of them repeats the age-old habit unconsciously.Presumably suicide, like homicide, has been programmed into the semen of our ancestors by repeated behaviors millions of years ago, becoming the genetic code. "Forget it!" He thought to himself, since those in power have played with his innocence, and since political deception has not played any new tricks in history, there is no need to feel ashamed that he has fallen into the stereotypes of his predecessors in terms of suicide methods and procedures. up.Although there were two drops of clear tears flowing down, those two clear tears had another meaning.Of course, he only realized afterwards that shedding two clear tears was just one of the procedures for suicide.Lu Ke was cold, and in the whole world it seemed that only his butt was awake.After everything has been thought out and figured out, when the things in the brain are sorted out, it means forgetting.And he knew that he hadn't thought it through, hadn't figured it out, didn't and would never be able to think it through or figured it out.Forget everything, that was after he matured.But when he was sitting on the bench, he really thought he was so enlightened.Surrounded by the smell of rice, one can feel a faint fragrance floating on the ground.Some kind of autumn insects should match the twinkling of the stars in the sky, and convert the faint light into chirping calls.There is no wind, but there is an air current turbulent under your feet, you get rid of the tormenting and heavy physical labor, and don't think about your identity, situation, future, and responsibility, and the dark scenery suddenly shows beautiful and colorful colors.He stroked the rope, which was an old hemp rope, soft and smooth, like a dead snake in the bitter night air.At this time, he felt a gloomy hatred and heart-pounding love intertwined, slowly rising from the bottom of his heart.Both hatred and love have no purpose, no object, but an impulse, a taste.He tried his best to follow this experience and capture this experience, but it disappeared in an instant, and only the emptiness before death remained in his heart.Those two drops of clear tears are actually the secretion of youth.He was twenty-three years old that year.Before I finally smashed him with the gun, he actually smiled and faced me directly, letting me know that he died willingly, making me think he really deserved to die.This kind of smile shows that he is completely aged.Through blurred tears, he suddenly found the moon.First, the cold light and shadow spread from afar, accompanied by sound, as if the dry land was being moistened by water.Then, a group of crows on the top of the poplar tree beside the threshing floor began to chatter, their black wings blowing in the wind.The shadows on the ground were running around, and some black shadows even jumped onto the earth wall, grain stacks, and his body.The stars faded away, but the autumn insects chirped louder.The snake in his hand came back to life, and it took him a long time to realize that it was just his hand shaking.

In an instant the moon jumped over the grove.The orange moon is so big and big.After many years, he can always see the moon.Such a moon and such moonlight can only appear once in the universe.All the moons he saw later were but replicas of that full moon.Both the Earth and the Moon are getting thinner and duller.The moon that reigns above the grove is just like the sun, full of vigor and vitality.There are countless trees in the grove, all stretching upwards and struggling, and it seems that the moonlight has pulled them up.Moreover, there was also a cry from the woods, which spread across the wilderness in an instant, and returned an echo from the end of the wilderness, "ahhh" resounding through the openness of the field.The tree's call woke him up.He suddenly raised his head and found that his head was covered with dogtail grass.He has been sitting on the rock for many years.At the same time, the orange moon emits a faint blue light, and in a short while, the earth is submerged under the blue ocean.There are water waves stroking his short hair, which feels like a mother's hand, reaching down from the invisible sky.

He didn't put the rope around his neck.Carrying it and tugging at the broken shoes, he returned to the cell in a jabbering manner.That's when I parted from him.I saw a trembling white smoke trailing behind him, and it disappeared into the night in an instant.That was his timidity and hesitation bubbled out of the top of his head.From then on he was shrouded in this white smoke, and the attempted suicide completely ruined his courage. It's an exercise in death.This exercise provided the content for many of his subsequent speeches, which became more mysterious and mysterious as he spoke.And once he tries to find out why he wants to die and why he doesn't want to die, he doesn't know that he has fallen from then on.In fact, he will never understand the motivation and meaning of why he wants to die and why he doesn't want to die, let alone understand.He can only fill up the so-called "meaning" of life with gorgeous, exaggerated and hypocritical words.Although he survived, he has been good at deceiving himself and others since then.

However, the word "It's over" has followed him since then, no matter when he is in public or having sex with a woman, as long as he is very frustrated or very proud, I will shout beside him: "It's over! " This word covers everything.I have a pair of tireless eyes.I watched him closely all the time.He sometimes wants to talk to me, and I never say that one word to him: "It's over!" After I parted from him, I could join him only when he was dying.Sure enough, the exercise brought him to the brink of death several times later, and death exhausted him.Because after that exercise, he was obsessed with the so-called "meaning" of life, with gorgeous, exaggerated and hypocritical words, and regarded this kind of language as the fruit of human thought, so the real reality beyond language often made him miserable.Anyone who tries to use language to generalize and express a super-linguistic artistic conception will encounter such a fate.So he often thought of death, and death became his habit.But he, exhausted by death, was too incapable or too lazy to die, and that's when I needed my help.I once thought that there must be many people like him who want to seek death but do not have the strength and the will to do so.Life, for some people, is just a habit, a kind of inertia.If dying were as easy as walking, at least two-thirds of the overpopulated world would automatically disappear.

One day in 2000, a piece of news was disclosed in the newspaper: In addition to the "euthanasia" enjoyed by the elderly and patients with incurable diseases, a new way of dying has been created.The craze for qigong and supernatural powers that became popular in the 1980s has developed a new branch: communication between life and death.Speaking of it, this method is also very simple, it is to lead people who have no strength and are too lazy to die but really want to die to a new realm.The human body dies, but the soul will live in the imagination of the soul.That is to say, the sorcerer can extract the soul from the body and preserve it like a human organ to be transplanted, allowing it to live as it likes in the boundless space.It is said that there are a lot of people who practice the art of communicating life and death, and everyone wants to live in an illusory ideal. The warlocks line up in front of the store like the soap, the difference is that they are not carrying shopping bags but urns However, people who want to die early have to go through the back door.Today I encouraged him to go.Because he was sixty-five years old this year. According to the book "Huangdi Neijing Taisu", when a person reaches sixty-five years old, his kidney qi will fail, his heavenly essence will be exhausted, and his mind and energy for falling in love with women will be completely exhausted.That being the case, he, who was tortured to pieces by several deaths, has no reason to let his body continue to exist.

The four walls of Warlock's operating room are painted black, and several surreal paintings hang on them.There is a picture of a fault in the earth's crust, with a blind bull's eye cut open by the fault standing in the middle.The picture was titled "Society".After sitting down, the warlock first poured a glass of water and put it in front of him, telling him to stare at the painting intently.The warlock said it was chosen by his eyes. "You must trust me completely," said the swarthy sorcerer sullenly, "and tell me about your imaginary heaven. Then I can make your soul move in it."

However, the Warlock's first sentence disgusted me.Throughout his life, I found that all people and organizations required him to give full trust, but he was often deceived.Also, all the people and organizations wanted him to "hand over" his heart first, to tell him to confess, and this trick eventually tired him.Unexpectedly, entering the gate of heaven and entering the gate of hell must first fall into a trap.He suddenly discovered that the picture titled "Society" did not depict a fault in the earth's crust and a blind bull's eye, but a cross-section of human skin and a female external genitalia split by the cross-section of the skin. "What kind of heaven do you want to enter?" Warlock's voice was dull and black, and the two of them seemed to be sitting in a jar. "A Christian paradise? Where you'll be with God, with winged angels flying around you. Or would you rather live in an Islamic paradise? Where you'll be surrounded by countless dark-eyed beauties. The Buddhist paradise is both illusory and extremely realistic. It allows you to re-enter human society, but that is your reincarnation in your next life, and you will enjoy a fate that is both rich and noble. If you are interested, you can also You can choose such a heaven, and at the gate of that heaven, there are eight gleaming characters built with gold..." Before the warlock could finish speaking, I hastily pulled him away.Not only him, but the imagination of all mankind has been exhausted, ideals have been chewed monotonously, and because there are no new ideas, all heavens are gradually diluted like glasses of white water.Happiness is actually a feeling and a process of feeling.I know that although several deaths did not kill his body, they had killed the nerve that made him feel happy, just like a dentist killed the nerve of his teeth, cold, hot, sour and sweet had nothing to stimulate him.For him, the important thing is not to enter some ideal paradise, but to put together the broken souls, roughly like it.In the process of looking for the lost fragments in Tianya, maybe you will find a nerve that can feel happy from some garbage dump and wasteland.

Only with this nerve can we talk about happiness. But apparently that was no longer possible.Later, he dragged his fragmented body and soul around the world, looking for happiness everywhere, but when others thought he had found happiness, he only felt pain.So, I finally found out that his happiness is also false, his pain is also false, his brokenness is hopeless, he must be recreated, and I decided to kill him. But I thought for a long time and couldn't find a unique way to kill him.Human beings have exhausted the methods of killing and committing suicide since ancient times.The so-called communication between life and death still left his soul, but for him, it must be eradicated.A pool of broken souls will soon be blown away by the wind, and thus he will sink into space forever, never to be resurrected.To eradicate him is to save him. In New York, Paris, and Frankfurt, the shops that attracted me the most were those that sold guns.I often linger in front of the windows of those shops.There are various models of firearms on display there, as cute as children's toys, which more than once aroused my interest in wanting to use them.I imagined it would be very manly for him to pick up a gun and shoot someone like that.Now that humanity as a whole has lost its creativity, I'm not too stupid to use the same old method of killing. So I induced him to get a shotgun.When I got the shotgun in my hands I chose another sunny morning.At this time, there were tiny pink flowers blooming outside the window, and I heard the fresh wind around the ancient wind chimes.I calmly looked at the barrel of the gun from the muzzle, and it was pitch black at the end.I know I can't see through the gun.The wind is gone, but the wind chimes are still ringing.That tinkling voice urged me to make up my mind.The strange thing is that my hands are not shaking.It's my first time killing, but it seems like I've killed many times and am a skilled killer.It turns out that imagination can also exercise skills. I will never hit him on the head.He has been shot in the head with a simulated bullet.Once he coquettishly put his arms around a woman and asked the woman to look for blood holes on his head. "Here, here," he pointed.And the woman ended up leaving a kiss there.I wouldn't shoot him in the heart either.The part where his heart was was empty.Because everyone he met since he was a child asked him for his heart.Although he was stingy with life, he generously gave away his heart continuously.Now some of his heart was moldy in the wastebasket, in the garbage, locked in the safe in the archives, and more often in women.The beating heart attached to the woman annoys the woman, makes her sleepless, and turns into black leeches. 1111111111 Since the method of killing is relatively old, it should be refurbished in the deadly part.I've been chasing something different all my life.Although this pursuit has hurt me, I have never regretted it for the rest of my life.I think he has been abused by others all his life, but he is only sorry for women; he owes nothing to anyone, only women.Therefore, it is his genitals that should be punished most, not to mention that the only way to eradicate him is from here.I snickered when I found the place, at how society's past punishments had hit him in the wrong places. As soon as I set up the gun, I heard a chicken crowing in the distance.Before I had time to wonder why the crowing of the cock in the city was so clear, the muzzle of the gun was automatically aimed at his belly.At this time, the room was suddenly filled with giggling women, and there was a style hidden in each kind of laughter.Then, the carnation flower began to shake violently, and the juice splashed on the wall like spots of blood.But there was a smile on his face. At this moment, I found that his smile was exactly the same as mine, so I pulled the trigger with peace of mind.After a "bang" gunshot, I saw the naked Jesus lying sexy on a white cloud, with the high wall of the labor camp in the background, and two large slogans painted in black ink on the wall: "Change from evil to good, bright future". "From each according to his ability, to each according to his need". "Love is happy only when it ends in tragedy." He remembered saying this to her when they parted, but he couldn't remember how many women he had said this to.In the presence of women in recent years he had to be very careful not to mistake what he said to this woman as speaking to that woman.Once he said to a woman: "I know I promised you to write you a letter a week..." But the woman exclaimed: "My God, please don't do this, he likes to steal my letters the most." ..." He glanced at her a little flusteredly.Nothing happened because he had never written a letter to a woman, even to the woman he had promised. But he remembered with certainty that he had said that to her.One is that he has said this to several women, she must be one of them, and more importantly, because of those eyes, her eyes, he can see her eyes everywhere, even now on the plane .What was special was that she looked forward to the climax with that fearful look.She held her breath, and the strength of her whole body was expressed from those eyes. It could be seen that she used every nerve to find sexual sensitive points everywhere when making love.But this sensitive point is running around all over her body. If she is caught by any of her nerves in an instant, she will immediately twitch crazily. He doesn't scream like her when the orgasm comes. And he was horrified at the lack of transition between her extreme stillness and violent restlessness.Once he thought he was a truck driver and watched his heavy truck run over her.The last glance left to him was that of fear, and her pleasure seemed horrible to him.He once laughed and said that her gaze broke his mood, and she smiled back, but it was the same in the future. Because she had that gaze as a signature of hers, he could be sure he had said that to her.Now, the eyes with those eyes were in front of him, even though he was flying over the Pacific Ocean at this moment.There were no clouds in the sky, and azure seeped into the portholes.After staring into those eyes for a long time, he suddenly realized that when the gun was pointed at his head, his own eyes were so identical to hers now. He stared at the back of a beautiful white woman's head in the front seat and felt his scalp itching.Not long before meeting her, a cadre in charge of documents in the Public Security Bureau brought a few pages of materials, which were the records of his interrogation that year.The cadre wanted to exchange a book written by him and asked him to sign his name. The interrogation record reads: Q: Are you ×××?Silent.Q: Are you currently an agricultural worker? Silent.Question: You came from a reactionary family and once worked as a teacher. In 1957, you were classified as a rightist because you published anti-Party and anti-socialist reactionary poems, and you were sent to a labor camp for three years.In 1963, he was sentenced to three years of confinement by the ×× City Intermediate Court for sabotaging production, refusing to accept reform, and spreading reactionary speeches.In 1965, because he continued to resist and stubbornly insisted on a reactionary stand, he was sentenced to be labeled as a counter-revolutionary and sentenced to three years of labor reform.After being released from labor camp for the second time, not only did he not think about repenting, but he intensified, using various opportunities to oppose the great leader Chairman Mao on different occasions and viciously attacking the Party Central Committee.Do you accept the above facts? Silent.Question: Do you admit that you oppose the great leader Chairman Mao? Silent.Question: (Confessing the policy) You are a habitual offender. You know all about the Party’s policies above. Recalcitrance will not do you any good.Do you admit that you oppose the great leader Chairman Mao?A: If you say I'm against it, just be against it. (The criminal pleaded guilty) Question: Do you know what happens when you oppose the great leader Chairman Mao?Silent.Question: Anyone who opposes the great leader Chairman Mao will be shot, do you know that? Silent. (The interrogator pressed again and again) A: If you say you want to be shot, you should be shot. (The prisoner agrees to the death penalty and will not appeal) correct!It was the look she gave when the gun was aimed at his head.Perhaps it was that fearful gaze that aroused his interest in making love with her, which was beyond the need of sexual desire, and he wanted to look for the muzzle in her eyes again and again.The so-called words that destroy the mood are nothing more than flirting.He likes her to remain the same.The last time he remembered was in the hut where she lived, a flicker of arc light piercing powerfully through the windows from above.The bodies of the two of them were welded together in the blue arc light, and the whole body became a piece of blue glass, shiny and smooth.There is a building under construction across the street, which continues to be noisy at night.The clash of metal bricks drowned out meaningless murmurs.The air is stuffy, and the rush of meeting and parting is always suspended in the small room.He remembered saying that to her just in the flash of one of the most powerful arcs, at the moment when the two of them secretly loosened and peeled and crumbled. That statement doesn't keep its promise.In fact, he wanted to say that in the past, we were holding hands, like a wave running happily and recklessly in the vast ocean, but finally hit the rocks.I don't know what's wrong with you, but I saw a red mist in front of my eyes.Blood, a cloud of droplets burst out from the blood vessels.Although the voice is still as gentle as a finger, slowly flowing from your cheek to your ear.You still close your eyes as usual, enjoying me desperately as usual; I still open my eyes as usual, enjoying you desperately as usual.But you and I are aware of the end point—at the end b, I didn't interfere with him, and I didn't shout in his ear: "It's over!" But I heard him say such words to her, it was ridiculous.What "love must end in tragedy to be happy", my poor woman did not hear the taste of evasion and retreat from it.In fact, his heart has no room for love.He put this sentence in his pocket and took it out to wipe his sweat after sex.When he said this, he closed his face tightly, as if it was very profound, and raised lovemaking to the height of philosophy. In fact, he had already betrayed his heart before falling in love with her or any woman. Every word he said to the woman ended up falling to the ground and shattering, with meaningless black dots strewn all over the place. However, this woman is smart. When she couldn't see the possibility of marrying him, she resolutely walked back.This made him still have a lot of nostalgia for her until the shotgun was aimed at his belly.She turned back and flew west all at once—even though the plane kept heading east.He was the only one left, looking back in a daze, but couldn't find where his shore was for a while.