Chapter 9 Part IX

(eighty-one) Qinghe is a very independent girl I know, She told me something about her wandering or walking -- one person, Alone on the road. She told me that she once pulled a tree up a hill, It turned out that the hands were full of crushed insects, The yellow juice sticks to the hands, wash hands without water, So I covered my hands with a plastic bag and ate the bread. When she said it, she seemed to be telling a very funny thing, The smile is bright and innocent like a child. but i know There are still shadowy corners in her heart that no one knows. (eighty two) Yaoshi Huang is a software designer.

Income is unstable, sometimes rich and sometimes without income for a long time. But he will never be without money to spend. He doesn't need to support his parents, On the contrary, his parents will provide him with quite generous material guarantees. He is always wandering from city to city, When I met him, he was in Shanghai, Then he wandered all the way, The laptop followed him, He always tells me where he is, Hangzhou, Beijing, Xi'an, Lhasa, Luoyang, Kaifeng, Wuhan, When he was closest to me, he was in Chengdu, But at that time I was taking an exam, So we still haven't met.

(eighty three) Recently he told me via E-mail that he is in Dunhuang. Isn't Dunhuang unpopulated? what are you doing there You must have never been to Dunhuang. Here is also a busy place full of secular and charming aromas, This is not a paradise, There are still street vendors here who fight over a few bucks A woman who sleeps with strangers for dozens of dollars. Those things that people deeply believe in have been flying in the sky thousands of years ago, feathered feathered, The rest of the sculpture has no soul. Next time you come to Dunhuang, I'll take you to see the dull light on Fei Tian's face.

(Eighty-four) Huang Yaoshi said that my positioning of him was very accurate - an exile. I am noncommittal. Actually, I'm more like talking about myself. I said it long ago, My life is drifting from one prosperity to another prosperity or desolation, I can't stop. Yaoshi Huang once told me When he comes to a city, he will try his best to find a reason to stop himself, But still didn't find it, As far as I can see, there are deserts everywhere. Those battered flags fluttering in the sandy wind, It's like some hopeless marks in my heart, which can't be erased.

morning tree, Actually we are different, You are happier than me. Although none of us can reach the other shore, But at least you know where your other shore is, Even if you can't swim, But the fireworks on the other side can still dress you up. But I am different, I am the one who has lost all direction. (Eighty-five) I see, Like the saddest bird in the fable. right, a bird without feet, fly till you die, It never stops. (eighty-six) I always flip through those exquisite travel albums, When you find the beautiful scenery, cut it out and send it to your friends. I always like the words in those novels that describe strange cities,

They always make me feel warm. For example, I saw a paragraph describing Casablanca, Casablanca, A place on the west coast of North Africa, a city in Morocco, an Arabic and French-speaking region, A place not far from the Strait of Gibraltar where Europe and Africa meet, A territory facing the Atlantic Ocean with phosphate mines. I look at these words always comforted by geographical associations, But completely forgot the love that was once performed there, Handsome tough guy Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Amorous Young Woman, eternal separation, "Time Flows" played by black pianist Sam...

(eighty seven) I once asked Qi Leming, I said, will you be tired if you keep walking like this? Will it be lonely? He said that people who travel all the time are the loneliest, Because they have no place to stop, So they just keep going. Because of the unfamiliar environment, everything is fresh, No time to stop and let everything become familiar and boring, In the end it becomes lonely. And Qinghe told me, In fact, there is another important reason why people drift. That is parting. people who live on this earth, You can only see the sunset once a day, But they still have the freedom to watch the sunset in different places,

This may be the reason why some people drift. Go away, make things easy, people become kind, like a child, We start over. (eighty eight) In "Happy Spring", He Baorong always said, Lai Yaohui, Let's start over. My favorite in that movie is the waterfall in Buenos Aires, Beautiful and sad as the tears of a sympathizer. At the beginning of the movie there is a road, stretch straight, endless. (Eighty-nine) while some leave, But for no reason. I used to have a deskmate, A quiet little girl who dare not speak too loudly, rich family, Parents always give her a lot of money,

But seldom by her side, Because they are always busy. So she left, away for a week, During this week, She still attends classes on time and still takes exams, Because she lives in a hotel one hundred meters away from her home. Every morning she stands at the door of the hotel and watches her parents get on the bus in a hurry, nothing unusual, Maybe they just thought she was staying at a classmate's house for a few days, She was always waiting for her parents to start looking for herself. Seven days later the girl went back, Did not mention this departure to parents, Parents don't even ask,

Still busy. (ninety) Her appearance is calm, In fact, I know the sadness in her heart. I saw her tears fall when she told me this.