Chapter 72 Welcome "spring"

"Spring is here, where can I meet her? Maybe listen to her footsteps, look at her beautiful clothes, and receive her gentle smile?" She came from the green grass and the sound of gurgling water , come from the breeze that blows, and come from the joyful smiles of the world.My friend, isn't this "spring"?She pushes the world of heavy makeup, turns to you, comforts you, inspires you, and orders you more deeply. Look at this perfect performance! my friend! Do you have to find "spring"? When did "spring" ever belong to the world? Look at the life she created!In the fresh green grass, in the sound of the newly rising tide, "spring" is hidden in it!

March 9, 1922.In fact, I have long wanted to write Notes for a Madman: But I can’t write, and once I write, there is no end, I’m afraid I’m too tired.And you don’t understand what’s in it, it’s extremely muddled and profound—but some wise people advised me: “If you are such a deep-thinking person, if you don’t give vent to these backlogged thoughts, Come out, I'm afraid you will become a..." Their last words were not uttered in the end.I don't know if they are praising me or teasing me.But that doesn't matter; I'm about to relate something very secret and very clear. How does the sun love the little tree outside the door, and how does my mother love me-"mother"?These two words do not seem to be said in this way, but are just a mess of threads.This messy thread has entangled my heart from the beginning; when it is pulled a little, my heart hurts and my eyes are sore, but my soul is sweet at that time.

No one in the world can untie this mess, and neither can God—in fact, God is also a mess, and even my mother can't untie it. My mother—that is, Luansi—often said that I was smart, but sometimes said that I should not be too smart. If I was too smart, my eyes would grow wings and fly out of the sky.Only the body was left on the ground, and the crows came and ate it—but I don’t think that’s a big deal, I’m not the only smart person in the world.He and him, and him; they were wise men, and nothing would tell.After a night of deep sleep, when they got up the next day, they wrote many poems, saying that they hadn't slept in the middle of the night.When I saw people coming, I took out many books and pretended to read them; when people left, I came to ask me to mend their shoes.

Their eyes have not yet grown wings, and the crows have not come to eat them.This is the same as Mount Fuji and the Strait of Gibraltar, it's ridiculous! But anyway, I don't look at them much.When you want to see them more, you become their soul.Didn't I just mention the little tree outside the door?It was this small tree, which leaned towards a stone statue on the opposite house.It seems that after looking at it, the fever reached 200 degrees overnight, and it also turned into a stone statue.No one would believe this, but people after tens of thousands of years came to take his shadow, which I saw with my own eyes.

Although my house is short and small, when I open the door, I can see the street. Even the sky is much wider than others.This is the first thing that brought me to tears! ——Why are the shoes of the world so easy to break?Makes me a rope all day long, pulling it back and forth.But it's not that they want me to make it up. It's me who calls the passers-by and makes it up for them.Instead of patching their shoes, I thought I'd teach them how to walk.But if they all know how to walk, I don't have any materials to drag around. There is no one in the world who can write words full of power. If they could, they would all be "white ones".No matter where his words appear, I will recognize them.This is another thing that made me cry—his words were written on the book, and even the page was bumped out. Even if I closed my eyes, I knew it was written by him.He's a prince, who doesn't know that?He naturally has a shy and worried look.His mother was Indian, that's all I know, No wonder he's so soft and white.Only Indians in the world are gentle and pure.This is another reason why small trees turn into stone statues.

When his ten-wheeled sleigh, driving ten white horses, followed by ten white-clothed waiters, passed my door, the dust from the street flew in one after another and reported to me! ——I dare say that no one does not admire and like him, but he is so unreasonable, maybe his Indian mother taught him.In any case, he always has some deep relationship with Luansi, which makes him look shy and worried. Although he doesn't care about people, he sometimes visits me.Is it pity that I am old and helpless?Are you asking me to mend shoes?However, he was always barefoot, and he was always sitting in the car, refusing to come into contact with the world's roads—when he came, I was very natural.do i like himBut the boundary between likes and dislikes is extremely blurred in my heart.Let me think about it again... Yes, this is like Mount Fuji and the Strait of Gibraltar, it is not easy to understand.All in all, it was because my eyes were about to sprout wings. He was afraid that the crows would eat me and the blood would drip onto his bare feet, so he just had to be on guard.

"The black one" was more of a dog—maybe a crow—but some people liked him.He was walking on the road, and his shoes were very tattered.I can't mend it for him anymore, I'm getting tired of pulling this rope all the way. If the sky is not cheerful, it means that someone is very sad and dying.I can't hide this situation from me, Luansi once told me.This is another reason why small trees become stone statues. Sure enough, the "black one" came, and he hesitated in speaking—his eyes will never grow wings, I really look down on him—he said that the "white one" meant something nice to him, and he wanted to invite him made him a prince.And said "he who is white" came down and went away for his sake.When he said this, he looked sad, but he liked it.I shuddered, and the rope fell to the ground.My lips cannot speak, but my heart begs God to forgive him.His time is coming, O God, O messy silk!Forgive him for understanding!

If he understands like this again, I didn't say...the bell on the "white him" car rang, why did the "black him" run away again?The world is very chaotic, I am going to cry; tears are drawn out of messy threads, and the messy threads are entangled in the world, ridiculous! —It was dark again. If the portal is shallow, the news will be fast, and people can easily know each other. "Black him" is really thoughtful, he will knock on the door and tell them. Smart people also came out with very new books, told each other news about "the black man", and wrote many lyrical and narrative poems.This chaotic, dark, tide-like conversation proves that the world will turn upside down.

If the sunset glow is red, someone will die from the confusion of happiness... When I looked up and the snowmobile stopped at the door, I knew there must be some accident... "He in white" stood firmly in front of me.God!Mess!I couldn't understand a word he said.His attendants all looked down at me—this was all caused by the "black man", and I had expected this day long ago. "White man" is always gentle, but there are times when he hates deeply, so I very much believe that Mount Fuji will become lower and the Strait of Gibraltar will become shallower. "The white one" didn't speak anymore; when he came out, his ten attendants were all silent——his clothes were frozen like silver armor, and out of his clear eyes, a radiant light flew out. Come.I am terrified!When he got into the car, I could already hear the silver bow on his back rattling incessantly.

I was still in shock, the car might have gone to the street. "He who is black" also passed by my door-oh God!He who thinks he is pure will be condemned. I could barely turn, but I eventually jumped out.As the snowmobile passed by, the "he in black" was lying on the street with his eyes closed, clutching the bloody arrow on his chest. "White Him" Standing on the carriage, staring angrily, the bow was still in hand, and the waiters bowed their heads in a row - the horse galloped away again. I jumped in again, my heart almost flew out of my chest, if I hadn't held it, I would have... Mount Fuji is 120,000 feet high, and the Strait of Gibraltar is 120,000 feet deep.If it weren't for their sophistication, I wouldn't have any materials for La Dongla, and I would cry!

Smart people are so smart that they can't grow wings from their eyes.They stayed up in the middle of the night again, and wrote poetry again—cough! Which one thing can be hidden from me; you go to sleep in the middle of the night, get up and copy each other secretly!I dare say, my little tree, you forced it to become a stone statue, but it is a pity that it failed to caress it for a long time. Anyway, I want to be with you... Now you are ridiculing "black him" too much.You are the ones who did the murders; you also poured the passionate blood in the heart of the "white man"—the crows came, and the sky darkened. India's mother used to live in a bottle; when the bottle broke, there was no place to live.This bottle is made of tangled threads, and if the tangled threads rot, naturally the bottle will break. In fact, it's not that the messy silk is rotten, it's just that the world is full of messy silk, so there's no need to separate them.It's none of my business, I just pull my rope and it's over.Because the shoes of the world have always been tattered, if I don’t pull them, many of them will disappear, and no one will know about them forever. This is a very sad thing! The bottle was broken, and when India's mother left, Prince Bai would naturally follow. Originally, the world did not want to have him.What a hateful world!Just want people who are neither big nor small, neither tall nor short, like the wise ones among us—what did I just say?Yes, "the white one" will be leaving soon.In fact, the idea of ​​whether to go or not is also very vague in my heart. There will always be countless bloody arrows hanging in the sunset, with the pointed point pointing down—buried in the heart of "the black man".But I believe that there may not be words of repentance in his blood, which is what those smart people encouraged him to do. The dust after the rain cannot be reported. "The white one" came to say goodbye, still shy and worried.His scowl vanished in my heart, just like a dream—actually, I don’t know what the dream is, I just think it’s a very insignificant and very affecting thing, and it’s something that this rope often passes through.This rope is brought by every child as soon as he enters the world, but if they don't like to have dreams, they can also jump over a pair of scissors, and the rope will be broken.This pair of scissors is not easy to find, which is another reason why my little tree turned into a stone statue. "White him" sat down gracefully, and told me in that kind of non-far-near way: He is going to go with his mother, and a broken bottle can't live in it.If they managed to stay, the wind would blow them away—I knew this for a long time—he was going to the Arctic Ocean now, where there was their Snow Palace.The Arctic Ocean is only suitable for him and his mother to live in. I also believe that his bare feet are not afraid of the cold.Again, the Arctic Ocean, Mount Fuji, and the Strait of Gibraltar are connected in Taikoo. He flicked his white clothes that dragged the floor, and walked out.The waiters lined up respectfully and said goodbye to me.He got into the car with bare feet, which is a sign of never coming back!When the car turned the corner, I still heard the last sound of the luan bell on his sleigh, and saw him looking back, still in that shy and worried look... Oh God, messy silk!Is this fruitless, incomplete, always the case?I can only hope that he will always be like this! No one in the world can write the embossed words in the pages of the book—smart people laugh at my crying and talk to each other quietly.Anyway, I hate you guys so much! The "black ones" were forced to death by you, and the "white ones" were forced to leave by you.Whenever there is a sunset, I think of these things, every blood wheel in me is spinning in my body-the crow is coming! My body was originally 500,000 years ago, and it hasn't changed at all.But now it is closed in a small room that is five million years later, pulling the little rope that is five hundred thousand years later.Unless the dream sometimes releases me, but that's only for a while—I want to go back, but I can't go back, what a tragedy!Mother!Mess!If there were no me in the world, you wouldn't say I'm smart; the crows wouldn't come, I wouldn't face those smart people all day long, and the little tree wouldn't be turned into a stone statue by them! These things I have experienced, I knew from the beginning how to happen one by one.These things in my heart have changed from very faint shadows to very strong real images, and they have come out of my heart to the world.Every time something went out, those smart people laughed, fell asleep in the middle of the night, and secretly wrote poems when they got up in the morning.This is another thing that brought me to tears!This phenomenon is tantamount to throwing a piece of ice back when something happens, and it returns to my heart.God!Here come the crows! I know I can't write any more: the wings of my eyes have grown a little, the eyes are gone, and the flesh is handed over to the crows that peck people's flesh and blood, what a tragedy it is! ——My mother told me this long ago. Recently, I often see bloody arrows in the sunset; I often hear the sound of Luan bells in the dust; and the cruel laughter of those wise people. The accumulation of ice cubes in my heart has a lot to do with the hand holding the pen.I can't pull the rope anymore; I don't care how worn out the world's shoes are—now that the blood in my hand is gradually freezing, do I want to follow in the footsteps of that little tree? Before the eyes fly away, the crows come, and the tips of the hands freeze; I swear by Mt. The sky, let me meet these unaffected and affected things in my old age! God!Mother! —you are all tangled in threads—I don’t know what to say; I only ask you to delay the crow’s coming, so that I don’t see my own flesh being eaten while my eyes are in the air, because My body was originally half a million years old.I also beg this crow to fly to the Arctic Ocean after devouring me, spit out my blood as evidence, and tell "the white one"—but don't drip it on his bare feet, he was afraid of this—said to make up The old man with shoes, his eyes have already flown away, and before he flew away, he cursed those wise people for him. The wings over my eyes drooped down, covering my face.I don't take my rope with me either, anyone who picks it up will count it as theirs.I can't take care of things that are close to me on weekdays, such as broken shoes and dust. The sound of the ice cubes in my heart grinding against each other became louder, and the wings on my eyes also fluttered. The crow is coming! Now that I think about it, there is one more heartbreaking sentence I want to tell you.If I don't say it now, no one will know about it forever. The stone statue is... It's over, let's wrap it up!The blood wheel has congealed to the fingertips, and my pen can't move, so that's it-say, the collection of essays "Superman". )