The corridor is wet. As soon as I entered, the pungent smell came to my face, like a thick smelly sweat.
According to the people inside, the first floor was closed because of serious illness. There was a beautiful nurse on duty that day. I spoke to her in the local dialect, but she didn't understand, but it was really beautiful.
Later, I often went to chat with the little nurse.
Look at those lunatics.
In fact, the madman in Pinghe Hospital is very different from what we thought. They won't say I'm not crazy. They are all quiet.
There lived a middle-aged man in the first compartment. He liked growing flowers and drinking afternoon tea. When you ask him about politics, he promises an orderly answer. If you ask him about history, he will be silent.
A poet lived in the second compartment. My mouth is full of broken images every day, such as the distance between hunters and prey, maple leaves full of lies in spring, hundreds of millions of brilliant suns and so on. I like chatting with him. Later, I met him, and the poet gave me a book of his poems.
It's called the madhouse. The first poem is very short, only two lines:
Are you outside?
Is it still in there?
I savored it for two days and found the poet, shaking his hand excitedly through the fence: "This is a great poem!" " "
The poet was also very excited and pulled my hand back: "I think so!" Unfortunately, I didn't write it. "
I dug out my collection of poems and looked at it. In the corner of the page, I wrote a small word "Chen".
After more than a month of hard work, I finally got an appointment with a little nurse.
When she was invited to dinner, she mysteriously leaned in: "You also secretly exchanged identities."
I am stupefied.
She said, "I remember you. Chen Lin. You used to live downstairs. It is the poet's ward. "
Am I outside?
Is it still in there?
The little nurse added, "They all envy what's inside the fence. No matter what they say or do, no one will feel abnormal. Outside, if you say something normal, you will be called crazy. Very pitiful. "
I'm a little scared. Even the little nurse stopped flirting and ran away.
I haven't been to the Peace Hospital for several months.
I always feel like a normal person.
Once, I occasionally listened to my colleagues and talked about Pinghe Hospital.
A said, "Don't you know? It was a prison three years ago. "
I seem to know, but I don't seem to know.
B said, "I know, I know! Some abnormal people have been sent to reform! For example, homosexuals, poets, too serious historians ... "
A said: "Now it is directly changed into a mental hospital, simple and clear!"
B said, "Yes! There is nothing to be reformed. It's hopeless, it's hopeless. Dogs can't change eating shit. "
A young man came in outside the door and shouted, "Freedom of speech-"
The people who escorted him on both sides covered his mouth in time and handed him over to me.
"Send it to Pinghe Hospital."
I nodded indifferently.
"ok."