Why do we have so much sadness? Going back in time hurts a little. So much, so much youth, it turned out to be just a look back, gently, on the back. Walking people, whether their hearts have been abandoned, left behind, lonely and speechless. Only the wind hunts in the air, like an empty box.
I don't want to write down these vicissitudes, as sharp as a spear. But I pursued the years when Haizi took dreams as horses, but the years were wasted and I was tired. The poem he longed for and the distance, on the grassland where the gods died, were only wood, only ponytails, and even a star could not be found in the empty night sky.
I tried to touch a soul and find my own projection under his guidance, but in some pure and beautiful illusions, I saw a fragile stubbornness and a sigh for life. The glory built in the Muse Kingdom can't stand the turbulent rush of troubled times after all. A person lost in the distance, where did he go, looking for his paradise.
I have suffered three times: vagrancy, love and survival/I have three kinds of happiness: poetry, the throne and the sun ... In the night of Haizi, I can hear the piano whimper, I can see the golden wheat, and the poet's "nothing, empty hands". It suddenly occurred to me that an author wrote that individuals in this era began to hide and passivate their inner world. From the spiritual world to the material world, to the current polarization, the extreme lack of spirit and the extreme luxury of material.
I saw Haizi, he said, at the end of the grassland, my hands were empty, and I couldn't hold a tear when I was sad.
I'm not remembering, but feeling. This era is complicated and heavy for me. I have always wanted to live a clean and simple life, but I can't let go. I know how to forbear, please, and cover up the hardships and helplessness of life with a smile. I dare not relax today, and I always feel at a loss. The pressure is getting longer and longer, and the poverty of material life is far from bearing the peace of the spiritual world. I want to have a quiet afternoon when I am old, a lounge chair, a cup of tea and a book, and live in Ye Zhi when I am old.
Even if I am lonely, I will silently watch a wild flower swaying gently with the wind in the field path.
two
Many years ago, I saw a sentence in the Seventh Year of Viola: "Let's continue to love the generosity and abundance of life, even if the years are stingy and ridiculous." I had mixed feelings, and I cried. Sometimes I wonder what kind of situation a young woman has and can see the meanness and desolation of the years. Teenagers are young, in their prime, and an restless heart is budding. How can we see the ravines deep in the years?
I reread it recently and have a new feeling. I caught a glimpse of the shadow of the past and walked through the youth full of weeds. The mistakes and irresponsibility of those years have actually made a heart that is now more and more precipitated, and it has begun to have some aftertaste and nostalgia. The most wonderful thing about people living in the world is not the power of money, but the gradual deposition of life, which has cast a calm heart.
In fact, our time is half barren and half reminiscence. The farther we go, the closer our memories will be. When I was traveling in the Three Gorges Waterfall, I was lucky enough to chat with an old fisherman. In a backcountry, the old man sat on a stone and let the fish drift around with the current. I wonder how the old man learned that the fish was hooked. The old man smiled and said, as long as you are calm, you can naturally know whether the fish is hooked. Another sigh, I have been fishing for decades, and now I am old, so I can only entertain myself with this fishing rod. Holding a fishing rod, I will have some memories and peace. My wife is gone, and so is my son. Only here will I not feel lonely. You are looking at me carefree, and I am looking at you, just like looking at the world.
The old man's words are quite helpless, but they are not so open-minded, which is a bit like the meaning in Bian's Chapter. "You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery, the people watching the scenery watch you on the bridge, the bright moon decorates your windows, and you decorate other people's dreams".
Although this poem "Broken Chapter" is only four short sentences, it inadvertently reveals a faint sense of picture, just like a looming ink painting, which is really romantic and gives people infinite reverie.
The old man is watching the tourists on the mountain road, and the tourists are watching the old man fishing. Life is like this. We are sympathetic to others, and others are sympathetic to you.
three
Reading Yu Hua's "Living" feels like sitting in an ice room, freezing cold. Is life really like this? Is the meaning of human existence just living? I can't help but feel at a loss and have some fears. The author cruelly reveals the tragic fate of the characters in the book with a style that is almost cold and seems to have no temperature.
Fu Gui, the protagonist in the book, has tasted all the sufferings of human beings! For me, it's even worse. The author is cruel and cruel, and makes his characters die quickly in various ways, leaving only the old man and an old cow.
Youqing died, donated blood to the county magistrate's wife for a baby, and was drained of blood. Xia Feng died in dystocia and Jia Zhen died of rickets. Hill was killed at the construction site and was sandwiched into a paste by two cement slabs; Bitter root ate too many beans and was suffocated. Poor Fu Gui watched his relatives die one after another, but he was very calm. He was content to bury the bones of his relatives with his own hands. Fu Gui bought an old cow, just like him. Every day, he took the old cow to work in the fields, and Fu Gui always called his relatives' names again and again.
Yu Hua's To Be Alive is full of artistic tension, but this tension is like a big stone with a heavy sense of oppression. But it is undeniable that when you finish reading this book, it seems that there will be more peace in your heart beyond worldly desires and disputes. The ruthlessness and cruelty of real life are far broader than we think, but to live, even if you have to bear a lot of unbearable pain, you still have to be patient and tenacious. This may be the power of life.
"The old man and the cow faded away. I heard the rough and moving voice of the old man coming from a distance. His singing fluttered like the wind in an empty night. The old man sings:
Teenagers go wandering,
Middle-aged excavation,
Become a monk in old age. "
"I know that dusk is fleeting and the night falls from the sky. I saw the vast land showing a strong chest. This is a summoning gesture, just like a woman summoning her children and the land summoning the night. "
This is a weather-beaten and desolate song, and the ending of the story may be our final destination. The meaning of our existence, no matter how wonderful and bitter, is just to live tenaciously.
four
In our life, there will always be some quiet and lonely times. Sometimes, when you are walking alone or lonely, you will turn over pages of words hidden in time. Perhaps, you will encounter many touches in your life, and you will get these touches and produce amazing flowers.