Chapter 13 13

13 When I saw Chen Tian again, I had just cut off contact with all my boyfriends and locked myself at home. I don't go out all day, don't talk, just read with the door closed.My one-bedroom apartment is next to my parents, and they knocked on my door every meal time, but I always pretended not to say anything. I listen to TEAR over and over again with headphones on FOR A song Everybody by FEARS wants to rule the world, keep listening: "Welcome to your life, This is a road of no return. The curtain has been drawn, You have to play your part well..." I am not interested in everything, pessimistic and world-weary.

Of course, I have always been a pessimist, thinking that this purposeless, meaningless life is an out-and-out burden.It is only with tragic enthusiasm and an attempt to maintain dignity that I shoulder this burden, and I also require myself to carry it steadily and well out of dignity.But during that time I lost enthusiasm for this job. I'm trying to find meaning. I should quote all of Schopenhauer's sentences here, but forget it.You must have read it, and even if you haven't, you can find it and read it. After two or three months of this claustrophobic life, the only thing that can comfort me is reading books, listening to music and watching DVDs—in short, seeing what other people think.Schopenhauer was right, the best placebo for a human being is the knowledge that your pain is not unique, that there are many, many, even brilliant people who suffer the same pain and misfortune as you do, Endure this life full of nothingness.

It was at that time that I decided that the work of artists was meaningful. They spoke out their feelings for those who are not good at expressing, and they resonated with those who are good at expressing. Let them go like that. When spring came that year, I was tired of pain and contemplation, standing in the dazzling sun at noon and squinting my eyes, I couldn't imagine that I would do such a thing-running to the frozen Shichahai late at night, Lying on the ice for hours, trying to let the cold of the night cool the pain that burned in my body, the pain was invisible, but followed like a shadow, I don't know where it came from, and I don't know where it went after.Maybe it got lost and bumped into me by accident?Because there's no real reason for it, there's no way around it, which makes it all the more terrifying.I dare say that I must have encountered what people call "metaphysical pain."I lost all grace in this pain, lay on the ice and shouted loudly, shouting with all my strength, hoping that the pain in my body would dissipate through my shouting.

There was no sound around that night, no one came out of the darkness to disturb me or save me, and let me moan and howl. At that time, Shichahai had no street lights, no fences, and no people walking in the cold winter night. Many years later, when depression swept Beijing, friends around me collapsed, and the conversation at the dinner table turned into comparing the medicinal properties of "Lola", "Prozac" and "St. John's Wort", I thought that I might have it that winter depression.That pain may have been entirely physical rather than metaphysical, but none of us knew that at the time.

At the end of winter, I put my heavy clothes into the closet and spent a long time in front of the mirror thinking about my new clothes.I was so focused on matching the color and style of the clothes that it took me a long time to realize that I was actually very interested-that is to say, it was gone!The pain that had been tormenting me all winter is gone, I don't know if it's gone or if I've just gotten used to it.Anyway, I don't think about it much anymore! Well, since the fact that I am alive is unchangeable, let's start, the curtain has been drawn, I have to play my role well...