Wei Gang and I are ordinary classmates. I'm in Class Two and Wei Gang is in Class Six. Later, Class Six was dissolved. Did Wei Gang arrive in Class 3 or Class 4? It slipped my mind. Although they are fellow villagers and classmates, they are not familiar with each other. At that time, we were just classmates and teenagers, and the dirt was in Wan Huhou. It's just a newborn calf, a unshaven sword, unruly and arrogant. It is even more stinging, with spikes standing tall and living in a narrow self-world. After graduation, Wei Gang was in Beishun and I was in Nanyu. The two ditches are far apart and do not intersect. Even a few turns of the wind can't take away the news of the other side. 19 17 years, after I joined the county writers association, Wei Gang and I took part in several activities and met after drinking several glasses of wine.
In this big dye vat of society, it is difficult to lead an honest and clean life! Most students have changed, but Wei Gang hasn't. Sports shoes, jeans, a black suit, crossed, short hair hanging over the scalp, leaning his head on his shoulder. Black face, white teeth, black-rimmed glasses, hard eyes with a little melancholy, a little shyness and a little tenderness. Wei Gang, who doesn't like to talk, looks like a poet-a poet like Haizi Gu Cheng.
I have read almost all the poems written by Wei Gangwei. I commented at the back of one of the poems: "If you insert half a bone into the depths of the earth, it is hard, honest and frank and dark, hitting the soul directly." This is my true feeling. Wei Gang's poem is a withered grass in spring, standing tall and standing alone. Wechat reading is fragmented and can only glimpse the tip of the iceberg. When I took this thick "Comfort" and rubbed the writing system comprehensively, I really entered the spiritual world of Wei Gang, followed Wei Gang's footsteps and looked back at my life experience.
In 2003, I entered the society with youth, vision and pride. I'm very proud. I was the first person in the village to jump out of the farm gate by reading. Wei Gang's poems in this period are bright and fresh, full of youth, ideals, struggle and future. The gorgeous yellow, green and red in late spring are scattered; The rain in Summer is filled with freshness; On Tanabata night, "I meditate/a person's name" ("Tanabata"); "A dewdrop dream/taking shape" in the middle of the night (Midnight); At that time, I fantasized that I would meet a good woman/peach blossom (at that time).
The ideal is full, but the reality is very skinny. This society is not as beautiful as we thought. After the initial enthusiasm calmed down, low birth, low diploma and poverty became an insurmountable reality in front of me. Students show their magical powers, some study, some take the postgraduate entrance examination, and there is a direct job-hopping relationship. I know my situation, and my livelihood comes first. I didn't struggle, locked up the manuscript, and with anger, I held up a scorpion-like poisonous tail. As Rui Qiang said, "Since it is difficult to be a man with my tail between my legs, I can only put my tail up as a flag." We are reflected in Wei Gang's poems. "I don't believe in God/I don't care about human ghosts and gods" ("At that time"); "Sometimes I am really annoyed and angry/really want to step on people" (untitled). There have been ideals and unforgettable calls from afar. Just like Xin Qiji, only drunk, he came with a halberd and commanded the army on the battlefield.
Ji said in "Simplicity, a sharp weapon to deal with a complex world": "Living in a secular world, the pressure of life is great, the competition is fierce, and interpersonal relationships are complicated ... all problems that everyone has to face, and complexity is a chaotic and severe objective fact." Borrow money, buy a house, find a partner, get married, have children, get promoted, transfer. "Stop thinking about the distance/when the bell is about to ring/finally become willing" and "try your best to fall in love with this floating world/and greasy wandering" (the book of the dead). I got a loan to buy a house in 2008, got married and had children in 2009, took the teacher qualification exam in 12, bought a car in 14, and then gave birth to a second child ... I scrimped and saved every month, robbing Peter to pay Paul. Step by step, I entered a greasy middle age. Wei Gang began to pay attention to this bustling real life in his poems.
"A poet without a hometown is suspicious." This is what Gao Kai said. Born and bred in the hometown of Sri Lanka, it is our eternal spiritual home. We all hope that our home will always be what it looked like when Lu Xun's hometown first arrived in Runtu 20 years ago, but in reality, after 20 years, the distant hometown has become a desolate and declining appearance. The house is collapsing, the land is barren, the business circle is disappearing, relatives are sick, parents are aging, and the younger generation is moving towards the city ... In the words of Professor Wang Yuan, Wei Gang's poems express "the hardships in the countryside" and show the desolation and suffering under the flourishing vegetation. Barren hills, empty villages, dry rivers, roaring cold winds, gathering of three or five solitary graves, old women waiting for their daughters to come home at the end of the year, crazy neighbor Hei Hu's woman running away with others, naked crazy women abandoned in Huaishu Street, Xiaoyi and Su ... The scarred life living at the bottom of society is not only suffering, but also dying mercilessly. "Only the sunset/being dragged in by the Western Hills"; "Under its groping, the night/is getting deeper and deeper, and more and more boundless" ("A Lamp in the Mountain Village"); In late autumn, wormwood withered and died day and night; Chifengliang, Shashipo, Maojian and Suanjiwan are disappearing; The horse's woman became a grave; Weeds in my hometown, "they are just waiting/quietly waiting/people who haven't slept here" (the tomb of my hometown) ...
Winter, night, grave, death, funeral, all kinds of gloomy and gloomy images are intertwined, which constitutes Wei Gang's poetic home. Teacher Angel wrote in the preface: "Ding Weigang's poems are forbearing and low, and there is always a sad atmosphere of mugwort between the lines." Judging from Wei Gang's poems in this period, there is almost no bright future.
"I see things, so everything is my color." Poetry is the external image of feelings. I don't know what Wei Gang has experienced during this time. I crawled around the world, repeating boring days day after day. My elderly parents, my wife in the mountains, my young children ... There is nothing I can do. I have always insisted on hard work, kindness, integrity and talent, which not only brought me glory, but also made me a naive alien in the eyes of others. Liu Meng said in "The Last Bullet is Left to Me": "When justice is not done for a long time, when the victims do not get the sympathy they deserve, absurdity becomes truth." In this society, money and official position have become the yardstick of evaluation. The misplacement of cognition has made me depressed and my heart is like a dead tree. I stop practicing calligraphy and talking about literature. I started smoking, drinking, playing cards, watching movies, bragging, telling lies and telling dirty jokes, and prospering in the daily necessities of life. When I woke up from a drunken dream, I regretted and blamed myself, and felt that what I said was vulgar and ridiculous. Is this still me? I began to feel anxious and insomnia. In the dark, loneliness, like a beast that has been lurking for a long time, flocked to me from all directions. This loneliness, like autumn smoke, is scattered in the corner of Wei Gang's poems. Although quiet and peaceful, it is debilitating. In winter, "I am alone in the whole event" ("Standing by a Tree"); Under the starry sky, "that lonely man" is the star that the wind blows to the earth; "I came here/just scared away a lonely big bird/from a cliff" (a small temple in Zhangjiakou bunker); "Stones will collectively die alone/I will sit down beside them" ("I won't tell you") ... Every word, every sentence, has a lonely luster-pig iron-like black bottomless loneliness, which drowned Wei Gang.
Loneliness is because of emptiness, and emptiness is because of loss.
I'm afraid of this loneliness. I don't know where to go, my heart is empty and I feel homesick. I began to fall in love with going out and have been to Qinghai, Qingdao, Beijing, Chengdu, Longnan and Ningxia.
"Is he looking for a new inner territory in flight or in search?" Teacher Angel hit the nail on the head. However, whether in Jokhang Temple, Laxu Temple, Chaotianmen, or the streets and alleys of Chongqing, Jindaoxia and Ciqikou, Wei Gang always appears lonely in the bustling crowd. Walking through the bamboo forest, crossing the canyon, watching the blue waves rippling by the pool and playing with monkeys are all "illusions of physical fatigue" (Golden Knife Gorge). In Lashao Temple, "people who suddenly feel empty when they see everything/always feel nothingness/always feel/have a dull pain in their hearts/have long died" (boundless land). Sitting on the hillside of Meiyuan, I just feel "I am as small as dust/I can do nothing but sit" ("Don't follow them"). In strange mountains and strange water, there is no paradise for souls. Lonely Wei Gang put down his pen and plunged into boundless nothingness, heading for the terrible depression abyss.
The desolation of spiritual life, the dislocation of cognition and the dislocation of soul and reality have made a group of us become tired guests lost in the world of mortals. Who am I? "I am just a person who has come or gone" (in porcelain mouth), "I almost wasted my life in a sweet past" (illness 85), "It seems that I am also a fool in our village" ("I often praise our village"), "But what am I looking for/looking for in a hurry" ("What is it?"
We should rebuild our spiritual home, find the carrier to store our souls, find our lost selves and be scavengers of modern civilization.
Jiang Xun said: "Literature is the light that shines into reality, builds a bridge between the world and the soul, and achieves a richer self." 17 years old is an important year in my life. With the encouragement and help of Ruiqiang again and again, I picked up the pen that I had put down for fifteen years and opened my official WeChat account. After writing the first article, I remembered Wang Yisheng's words in Chess King: "Mom, my son is sensible today. People need something to live. " In the narrow circle of the county seat, literary friends hold a group to keep warm and comfort each other. Breathing with words, I am happy and intoxicated, forgetting all the disappointments in real life.
Literature has become the habitat of my soul.
"I often sit in our river bend or mountain for one morning or one afternoon. When I was sitting, I began to think about what kind of person I was. I feel like a very vague person! A teacher? A poet? Or a person who may fall at any time? But I don't know where I will go? " This is Wei Gang's self-report at the consolation forum. Just as Wei Gang was puzzled, Teacher Angel called to encourage Wei Gang to continue writing poems. Wei Gang, who picked up the pen, lowered his status, lowered his posture, faced himself squarely, paid attention to the lowest and most authentic things, and recorded his feelings through villages and schools. Poetry enriches Wei Gang's life, soothes his soul and illuminates his future. Light and love, as well as some beautiful things in their lives, penetrated into Wei Gang's spiritual world bit by bit. People suffering from depression, although "walking makes them feel sad" (letter to friends), "don't have to avoid the crowd/cry quietly in the dark corner" (Changlie Temple), love song "There are many kinds of flowers that have opened their hearts" (illness 20), "Pick a bunch of wild flowers and think of a beloved girl in the afternoon." We are more and more like cynics/but we are more and more compromised with this world (Blessing to War). Wei Gang knows that "passers-by/no longer passers-by" (Sick 97). ...
"Life is meaningless, but you must establish a meaning for it." Bi Shumin made it very clear. Kuafu knows that he can't catch up with the sun, but his significance lies in catching up. It's better to follow the wind when you come. Life is a process of losing, finding and catching up. We should follow our original intentions and be the people who look up at the stars in the ditch.
This book "Comfort" let Wei Gang find himself; This book Comfort reminds me of the past.
I went to a literary activity with Wei Gang some time ago. Wei Gang told me that he would write a series of poems about spring and praise twenty kinds of plants. When he said this, the spring sunshine was slowly setting, with the golden fragrance of rape flowers. ...
This road, we have to go on.