I have described myself more than once: a classical woman who is not good at actively interacting with people, and a woman who will hide her deep feelings in her heart. People who don't know think I'm arrogant, but I'm just avoiding others.
In reality, I am not good at words, sometimes I don't want to talk, I am too lazy to talk, and I like to immerse myself in my inner world. It may feel cold, but I remember all I have and cherish it. All the memories are hidden in my heart!
Such a character really can't adapt to the pluralistic world around us, let alone such a penetrating face that sees through the world of mortals. However, I am not withdrawn, whether familiar or unfamiliar. No one thinks I'm withdrawn. What I show people is always my easygoing and easygoing. I just, standing in front of this strange world, I'm afraid, and I don't know how to make myself perfect. I am just so persistent in pursuing perfection for people and things, but I dare not touch it easily.
Therefore, in the face of reality, you are often at a loss, but in the face of strangeness, you can be natural and calm. So I fell in love with the internet and this way of communication, which finally made me feel very comfortable in my own world. Don't worry about who will misunderstand you, don't look at whose face you are talking about, don't look at whose face you are doing, and don't pretend to be polite. Write down your favorite words, listen to your favorite songs, watch your favorite friends come and go, and then visit them one by one. What a pleasant life, let it go, let it go, let it go. The ancients were tired of the secular world and could retire to the mountains, but now I am also hiding in the net, seeking such a free and easy peace.
In fact, in retrospect, in the days before the internet, there were many strange memories from far away, which were moved and treasured in my heart, never needed to be remembered and never forgotten.
Gently walk back to the memory, looking for that long-lost touch.
? 1: the first letter, far away.
I am a cloud in the sky,
Occasionally projected into your heart-
You shouldn't be surprised,
There's no need to be happy-
It disappeared in an instant.
You and I met in the dark sea,
You have yours, I have mine, direction;
You remember it well,
You'd better forget,
The light that shines on each other at this intersection!
-Xu Zhimo's "Accidental"
When I was in high school, I didn't know what the Internet was all about, let alone what netizens were. At that time, there were pen pals, which were rare and fresh, which seemed incredible to me. How do people who live far apart get in touch? I am puzzled. I never thought that one day I would have a pen pal.
It was at the end of the next semester in Senior Two, and two students who loved literature wanted to contribute, so they had to enthusiastically pull me to vote. I found a poem "To Mr. Lu Xun" written in my spare time, which was copied to them by the craftsman and later forgotten. However, not long after the start of senior three, I accidentally received a letter from Linxiang No.1 Middle School in Hunan. I'm at a loss. I have no relatives or friends in other places. Who will write this letter? Just open it and see. It is a male student who wrote this letter. He said that my poem and his mother with soles were published on the same page of the Youth Diary. He thinks it's fate and wants to make friends with me. It doesn't matter. Interestingly, maybe my poem is a little masculine, and he actually treats me as a boy. I couldn't help laughing when I watched Brother Qiu bite. So I wrote back to pay my respects, tried to keep my face down, and finally explained my gender, "I am the heroine" and told him that we didn't buy that book here, so I couldn't see my "masterpiece" turn into type. His second letter followed, and the first sentence at the beginning was: "I was surprised to see your unexpected reply, and I blushed,' I didn't know Mulan was a girl', but fortunately I didn't go with you!" I also sent you two books, one is "Diary of Teenagers", in which our poems are published, and the other is "Appreciation of Feng Wangshu's Poems", which is my dream. On the title page of the book, there is a powerful cursive script: there is such a wish! I was too excited to calm down for days.
From then on, we started our pen pal career. As senior three students, we like dancing and writing, and there are too many topics. We talk about literature, life, feelings and worries about the future. We cherish this sincere friendship and add a lot of warmth and happiness to the boring and monotonous life of senior three. He writes both calligraphy and poetry well. On the New Year card sent to me, he filled in an ancient word in standard block letters, which impressed me both in calligraphy and literary talent. He sent photos twice, looking like a thin scholar, the kind of boy I admire very much. Under his influence, my eyes gradually widened, and I began to read books, no longer sticking to gentle lyricism. Even in April, near the college entrance examination, I found the controversial "Waste Capital" because of Jia Pingwa's introduction and read it all at once.
What wonderful memories! Unfortunately, after graduating from senior three, we left the original school in a hurry and went our separate ways, but we forgot to leave another contact information in confusion, thus losing contact, and the vast sea of people returned to strangers. This is my deep regret so far.
More than 20 years have passed, and we have trudged easily or difficultly on our respective life paths, and there is no intersection anymore. Sometimes, in the quiet night, my eyes inadvertently touched the poetry collection. I will open it, say my wish, say my name, and leave only gratitude in my heart. Oh, strange and familiar friends, thank you for your enthusiasm. When I recall the most painful days in school life, there is still a kind of beauty to pursue and a kind of emotion to remember.
Friends from afar, how have you been these years? Because of your blessing, I also buried a beautiful wish in my heart. I wish you, your life, happiness and health forever.
2. The second letter, from a stranger
It is said to be the sadness of lonely autumn.
It is said to be acacia in the far sea.
If someone asks me what I'm worried about
I dare not say your name.
I dare not say your name.
If someone asks me what I'm worried about
It is said to be acacia in the far sea.
It is said to be the sadness of lonely autumn.
-Dai Wangshu's "Trouble"
My university is not a real university, but a two-year normal college. But perhaps because of learning Chinese, romance is always more than reality, so I have never been arrogant, but I feel at ease and enjoy the happy feeling of "favored by heaven".
After all, it is from a closed small county to a relatively prosperous higher-level city. Although it is not as dazzling as Granny Liu's entry into the Grand View Garden, it is enough to make us relaxed and happy. Students in the Chinese department boldly make public. Everyone started the "New Dutch Literature Society" in full swing and published a social magazine, which is euphemistically called "Youth Tide". Finally, my enthusiasm for "creation" was completely mobilized. In addition to contributing an essay every issue, I also try to take an active part in various activities. My pale and morbid face is full of youthful brilliance.
I remember that after the evening self-study, everyone likes to lie in the dormitory, chat aimlessly, and then listen to the programs of Jining Radio. At that time, there was a column of Rencheng Nighttalk, and the host Lu Ning turned out to be our teacher of Marxism-Leninism, much like the star king, so she became the idol of all our girls. On my birthday, my fellow classmates ordered Andy Lau's Days Together for me, and I felt my surprise for the first time. All this makes me feel amazing.
So one day, I carefully distributed my composition "When Yellow Leaves Fall Again", which was praised by the writing teacher. It was our first practice after entering the Teachers College. In fact, it was just a sad love story I made up. Then, my ears enjoyed a perfect timbre feast, and my words turned into melodious notes, colliding with my excited eardrums. After the recitation, accompanied by the sad soundtrack "I am really with you this time", I understand that I finally had a close contact with this mystery in my heart.
These may be beside the point. In fact, I just want to tell you that having a romantic feeling, although not a beautiful university campus, is also suitable for breeding such feelings as love.
So there is the story of love letters.
This should be regarded as the first real love letter I received, from an unknown stranger, with a mysterious atmosphere.
At that time, we loved to go to the reading room to read novels at night. Quiet atmosphere, quiet coming and going, people whispering. Very comfortable feeling. Very comfortable feeling.
I don't remember how that letter got to me. I think when I left my seat to look for a book, it was stuffed into my pages. Maybe so! Anyway, I accidentally found a letter. Open it, it is an ordinary font, ordinary literary talent, but there is a simple sincerity and persistence between the lines. I know my class, my name, the way I concentrate when I study, and the way I sometimes frown and smile, as if he were sitting next to me.
It's a breezy June in Xia Feng, and our first year of study is coming to an end. The mysterious writer knows everything about me, but I know nothing about it, about him and all this.
But I just casually put it aside and planned to ignore it. Because at that time, I already had a familiar escort around me. Inadvertently, he saw this letter, but he insisted that I go to the appointment in the letter, so let me make it clear. So, I stood at the appointed place at the appointed time in the letter, and behind me, several people were "protecting" from a distance. Suddenly, I felt that this scene was funny and lamented the bad luck of my first love letter. In a trance, a boy wandered in the field of vision, perhaps scared by several people in the background, didn't come near me, and then walked away and disappeared. My heavy heart suddenly relaxed.
An unknown story. Sometimes when I think about it, it's just the plot in the film and television drama.
I don't know when I lost that stranger's love letter. Maybe I destroyed it on purpose. However, it is quietly hidden in my heart. It made me understand one thing: you may be humble, but you once shone in a person's heart like a pearl, perhaps as short as a meteor, but also as a meteor, illuminating a person's heart. Everyone can have this light.
For this light, I will never look down on my life again. Looking back on this, I am grateful for it, and I am still grateful.
The ancients said: Hongyan passed on books. In a specific era when communication between people is inconvenient, simple letters, a traditional way of expression, may be more touching than today's fast and extraordinary network.
This is what moved me.
In fact, I understand that everything is because of my heart full of gratitude forever.
I really miss the feeling of touching the letter paper with my fingers and reading it with a smile in the sun!
Write a letter to a distant place, give it to a stranger, and you will spread one touch and reap two touches!
Remember to leave the computer for a while when you are upset, and then spread the paper and grind it. Write a letter with your pen!
Just to appreciate it again, that long-lost touch.