Sometimes Shen Nianjie and I go up the river along the bottom of the bridge. I stop and talk to them. They know a lot of things, except where they come from. But it is this feeling of not knowing anything that contributes to what we are going through now. This kind of real life. It seems that the pale, gnarled, and blackened twisted forms express their respective voices.
Sometimes I think about the note that my uncle (detention center) gave me. After a few puffs of the cigarette, it turned into beautiful ashes on the ashtray. Then I suddenly remembered what he said: I want to tell you something. The beautiful core is like your skin, completely perfected by "you".
"You" are just inside, separated and combined. "I", how can I stop wandering in the moment?
"I" means that it exists. Now it is doing its best to follow itself. It is absurd, tragic, desolate, cold, mysterious and deep. It is suspended above everyone's head. It is tasteless and almost unintentional. Yi An's many misfortunes are still reflected before his eyes.
Just like we return to glory in it. "You" must rise and fall with "me". This beauty is also the ups and downs of each other that we can fall and rise and fall together. The resurrection of self cannot find the death of "me", nor can we find the death of "me". You can't wait for it, and therefore you can't adopt an attitude towards it. Or it's a world that is entangled with many things. It understands its subtlety.
After listening to his words, I suddenly remembered the scene in "A Dream of Red Mansions": Jia Rui looked at the romantic treasure mirror, and saw that he was still holding the mirror to look at it, then dropped it, still opened his eyes and picked it up in his hand, and finally the mirror fell and stopped moving. .The people nearby came up to take a look, only to see that his body was cold and wet, and his body was gradually deteriorating. Seeing the death of the child they were born with, the Confucian couple cried bitterly and cursed the Taoist priest, "What a demon mirror is this!" I set up a fire to burn it, but I heard someone crying in the mirror: "Who told you to look at the front? You yourself regard falsehood as true, why bother to burn me?"
Therefore, I think "I" have no reason to choose or give up. "I" just accept it. It makes people suddenly realize that there is a sense of belonging. Your you is your you. It has no origin. It is as beautiful as tea.
The aesthetics in it are like the Dutch Post-Impressionist painter: Van Gogh's self-portrait. Although everything seems very rare, it is always burning, but the final eternity is a bit far away, but it is still deviated and restricted. Therefore, it is different from the body of an animal. It is simple and deep, hale and hearty, but not cold and beautiful. No matter if I can't get out of myself in it, I will never see them again. It is like two different worlds from the desolation of the front yard. .I want to squat down and smell its fragrance, but it suddenly gets closer and closer. I often see Shen Nianjie and Yan Zhifei wearing similar (but not the same) black clothes. Or they say this: "We will always wear black clothes." , until they invent a darker color." "For example, in his year." "Although we should be quiet and conflict, we will give each other back today."