In my spare time, I accidentally opened a segment of "The Birth of an Actor" and was deeply shocked by the performances of Lan Yingying and Ling Xiaosu. They used the most authentic and natural way to vividly present the joy of newlyweds, hope for life, and calmness in facing death in the center of the stage. No matter from the overall performance or the details, what I saw and heard was their inner love for the performance.
Because of love, I remember it in my heart; because of love, I dare not forget easily.
Compared with today's impetuous entertainment industry, many popular young actors and actresses go into filming for popularity and salary. The programmed model, plots full of routines and unprofessional "cutting out" have been criticized by the audience.
True love is willing to be unable to succeed, willing to be mediocre, willing to be objectified, and willing to sacrifice.
When I was on the phone with Ms. Itzel last week, she asked me a question, "Why are you still studying when you can't get any results?" Her question was thought-provoking and made me re-examine myself.
On the road of seeking knowledge, I have always been filled with love and motivation. This kind of love is not to fill empty leisure, nor to climb academic peaks. It is a door that leads to another wonderful or bizarre world that I have never seen before.
Although this kind of love has really not brought me any substantial returns so far, such as no promotion of position, and no monetary benefits, but a lot of energy and cost have been invested; but love is just pure Love, like the sun, shines warmly on my barren spiritual land, allowing me to truly feel the rhythm of my soul.
A moth flies into the flame, knowing that it will perish. The phosphorus on its wings cannot even stir up a short-term flame, but it still persists without caring about itself, as if it is under a curse.
Wu Xia, a female worker poet born in the 1980s, works as an ironer in a garment factory in Shenzhen. After working for more than ten hours every day, he continued to write poems, and so far there are more than 300 poems in existence. My favorite song of hers is "Suspender Skirt":
On the Boulevard
Caressing a quiet love
Finally unfolding the skirt
p>I will iron the width of each pleat to be equal
Let you be by the lake/or on the lawn
Waiting for the wind to blow
You can also run
But you must let the skirt float with curvature
Like a flower
And I have to get off work
I want to wash the sweaty factory clothes
I have folded and packed them
The suspender skirt will be packed and shipped out of the workshop
Walking to a certain fashionable store in a certain market
In a certain afternoon or evening
Waiting for the only you
A strange girl
I love you
Such an excellent and slightly sad poem allows people to see not only the miserable life of the working class, but also the light coming out of the cracks in the rocks.
There are many underground worker poets like Wu Xia. They compose life with love and play a powerful movement of life. Perhaps workers' poetry cannot resist the logic of capital, but its implicit contemporary significance is enough to be imprinted in the long history of history and will never be erased.
In the vast galaxy of life, we are all weak and insignificant stars. Because of love and faith, we will shine brightly; and the meaning of love is worth exploring in a lifetime.