A New Concept Exploration of On the Road for Viola Seven Years

-romain rolland

When I lifted my pen and wrote this title on soft paper, I felt an unprecedented yearning for alienation. I will always remember my first article, called Bed is the Tomb of Youth. Long time no see. The tall and beautiful girl who told me this has dropped out of school and is going to Australia. She is practicing golf every day now. I hear it's very good. She only played ten strokes more than a professional in a game. Occasionally, I will go back to school to see my old classmates, and my popularity is so good that I have three floors outside. The last time I saw her was before self-study last night, with wheat-colored skin, tall and charming. She is the kind of girl who is naturally attractive. I greeted her from a distance and didn't come near. After all, no one will remember the boring games we played in the military training camp when we first met. There are some happy memories that are too small to remember.

But I can't forget what she told me, that the bed is a green grave, and her immature smile at that time.

Although these people have left your world so quickly, they are ready not to appear again. But I will still miss it. These are the most sincere ideas. Precious enough.

I can't help laughing when I look at the words I wrote before. The pretentious and mysterious expression in it looks immature, although I know I am now. But what it means to me is like a city that has been besieged for seventeen years. Growing wildly in it, and finally reaching the edge of escape. One word has been badly used by this generation of student writers. Actually, it really is. We lay watching and singing, and year after year, time flies behind us, while we curl up in the besieged city of our souls and look at the sky. This is really an image. For example, when I realized that I was going to be eighteen years old, I was so sad and clear in my heart when I was sitting in the classroom on the fifth floor and receiving punishment in the third grade. As Emerson said, because everyone has to live in his own home, such a world is vast. But I think maybe I will never touch a corner of it.

I don't think I can write so many accumulated words anymore. Everyone feels tired after stumbling into high school in recent years. Whenever there is a bed, I am willing to fall down and let it run over me. Lying in bed late at night, I suddenly can't remember whether I brushed my teeth. I've been thinking about it, and I fell asleep when I thought I didn't have the strength to think about it. Throw away the headphones of the CD, and don't bother to press the power off button. Hear voices hovering at night. It feels like time has passed. Fade in and out.

It has been more than two years since I first wrote.

In a blink of an eye, it's graduation season again, and seniors often go back to school after exams. I like their vivid expressions, with the flavor of prosperity and freedom. I passed through their smiles and went straight to the fifth floor. This is the quietest and best classroom. Looking out from the high window, is it the humid sky in the south or the sparse stars at night? These are all gifts for this lonely senior three, year after year in this lonely teenager.

I saw the last movie in the summer vacation of my sophomore year. It was Bernardo Bertolucci's Dreamer, and the movie was 1968. 1968 teenagers. I didn't know that a middle-aged man would make such a film full of youthful passion. I believe these are the past events that can't be mentioned, otherwise they will burn irresistibly in the withered body. Student Movement, May Storm, Cultural Revolution, Budac Spring. 1968 in the world is crazy and belongs to teenagers. Now I look at that distant era from the lens, and I have always doubted its authenticity.

Before the third year of high school, the saddest thing was that Tong left. I remember that she was packing in the classroom that day, and no one noticed her, but when I was in math class, I found a bag on the table. Open it. There are four films from Shunji Iwai, stanley kubrick, antonioni and anthony minghella. There is also a note saying that Xiaoqi is leaving. Keep the DVD safe. My tears immediately fell down.

There was no warning at all, and Tong didn't tell anyone. I took the note and remembered the DVDs I asked her to buy when I was joking a long time ago. She never forgot them. I feel so sad. Later, I asked another good friend of hers to know that she had gone to England. There was no news before. This quiet child will always be a fast-moving child, the best child for me for more than two years, the child who has traveled all over the city looking for the movie I want, and this kind child. Never again.

I remember she kept asking me for photos before she left, and I kept asking for them. She also pestered me to write my home address, but I didn't write it, which was very painful. Do you have to receive a letter written in English with a foreign stamp, so that you can remember it and cherish it? As soon as I looked back at the empty seat and thought of the child's simplicity and kindness, I was infinitely lonely. Tong is the kindest child I have ever seen. At this time, there are few children like her.

We never really said goodbye.

Now I'm sitting in this cathedral and looking out, I can only see the gloomy sky, and occasionally the sound of birds flapping their wings. When you are tired of doing problems, stop and think about children. I think, before she left, she finished every homework paper and every math problem carefully, meticulously and calmly. This is the attitude of a simple and kind child. So he said to the sky of senior three, there is only one year, and there is nothing unbearable. Then go back to your seat and continue to do it calmly. My heart ached, extended to the depths of my memory, and then disappeared. Such a long process, like growing up.

I don't know if the child is okay. Breathing the humid air on the other side of the Atlantic, I can see the spire and deciduous trees of the church shaking gently when I look up. Apricot trees in late autumn are simple and beautiful with only bones and no flowers.

And I will stay here, waiting for the next uncertain escape.

After entering senior three, Surh and I switched seats. I have been at the same table with her for almost a year. Actually, I really want to tell her whether we should change seats, but I don't know. So we broke up. From then on, I sat behind her, only seeing her back buried in reading and doing problems, and never seeing her Zhang Mingliang face again. We still do problems in the classroom after school until people are empty, and then wander to the canteen. When we walk through the empty corridor, we whistle loudly or sing the internationale loudly. Surh laughed at me for singing the Internationale, but I didn't think so. Start walking, and I will never sing like this again this year. Our footprints and songs were left in the corridor, day after day, year after year. We walked on without looking back, as if we had decided not to come back.

That night, I walked out of the classroom with a very good friend and walked for a long time in the dark night without talking. Then he suddenly said, Xiao Qi, I think you are putting too much pressure on yourself. When you are with us, you spend 90% of your time complaining, complaining ... you may not feel ... we have been friends for so long, so let me be straight with you. You've changed a lot since you were in senior three. Do you know what you used to be like? ..... You know Su He's desk used to be pasted with "Complaining about others and preventing heartbroken", although ... you know this doesn't necessarily mean you ... but you are really bad to yourself ... When you get close to Surh, your personality really becomes too exaggerated ... She is her, you are you, why do you have to make yourself like this? ...

I listened, but I couldn't say a word.

Back to the dormitory, took a bath and got into bed. Suddenly, my tears boiled like crazy. I was so scared that I quickly put headphones in my ears. Evanscence's depressing voice is like the coast. I don't know what happened to me. I kept crying while biting the quilt, and then I didn't know when I fell asleep. I woke up suddenly at three o'clock and found Evan's song still playing in my earphone. Staring at the ceiling makes me feel pressured to breathe. The end of a yesterday was dragged on indefinitely by the mixed effect.

In this way, I began to miss Su He. In this way, I got up from the bed, took a flashlight and wrote on the white paper line by line, writing about Su He and teaching me to endure sadness.

I think I will always remember this child who really won't grow up, the child who wants to bask in the sun on the seat near the window sill of the classroom, but is afraid that his face will be red and swollen like a tomato at once, the child who insists that I fetch water, the child who ignored her for a long time with a toothpaste sandwich cake on April Fool's Day, the child who loves to eat ice cream until the sea dries up and the rocks crumble, and the forgetful child who even forgot to turn on his mobile phone. This child who always wants me to remind her to remember to bring the emergency light back to the dormitory, this child who feels at ease after using my cup for a few days, this child who holds my cuff when going downstairs to do exercises, this child who thinks he is the president and recruits a group of aides such as the Prime Minister's secret in class ... I think we will roll our eyes in math class and clean up our desks together in Chinese class, so that the life of a monkey photo in biology book will not be too noisy. I wonder what she thinks. According to her memory, she should have forgotten everything for a month, but every time she remembered it, she would be secretly happy, because in all the sad autumn days that hurt spring, we all came with uncompromising wishes and stubborn attitudes. "It's good to have all the lost things," Pu Shu sang.

I looked at the lines of my handwriting, and the font with Su He became a little imaginative, which is a microcosm of my strong tendency. I always remember her writing in a big notebook in a boring liberal arts class. Doodle lips, glasses in the middle of the bridge of the nose, just like an old woman doing needlework, very kind. It's completely different from the way she drools at the sight of her beautiful sister. It is with this deceptive face that she amused many beautiful girls. In fact, including me, I often feel that she is so headstrong, so natural, and it is easy to be tolerated and spoiled. This is an enviable thing. You will feel her little happiness when you pat her on the head and shout "Fat rabbit, come and eat ice cream". And Su He always enjoys it with a willful attitude, and happiness is a matter of course. I don't know what year tonight is. It's meaningless to live on the earth. It's so beautiful and long to grow up and will never come back.

At any time, we can only immerse ourselves in the sea of "mathematical refinement" and watch Nr. Snake is full of passionate body language on the stage and thinks about what language he speaks. I always feel depressed, I can't find the answer, I can't find the direction, I can't find the way out, and I can't find anything except dawn and darkness for a while. Time flies quickly, and this feeling makes me deeply afraid. Later, I learned that Sue is really not like this. Later, she told me many times that she was self-aware. Later, I learned that her personality is too fragile, she has excessive expectations for life, and she is always demanding and disappointed. Maybe Libra people are particularly easy to be unhappy. Sometimes I feel extremely sad because of a small matter and indulge in low-key emotions for several days in a row. Su He told me that comfort is stretched, remember to be warm and intimate.

I wonder how such a young child can make such a profound decision. The world is cold. Pain is because I always imagine it to be beautiful.

I remember one evening study. I told her that I would stay at school every weekend and do nothing in the dormitory. It's really disgusting and boring ... I wonder if it's because my attitude of always complaining about everything is unbearable. It must be. That time, Su He told me loudly that if I were you, I would always look for books to study and find time to practice guitar ... This is purely your problem! Don't always complain about no conditions. ...

I couldn't say a word after listening to it. I am so sad that I am about to cry. In my impetuous high school days, I often feel that I am in a bad mood because I am far from home and homesick. School life is boring, hard and stressful, and everyone has to deal with it. I often think about something when I can't sleep at night, and I can't help crying. In those days, I suspected that I had depression, and I felt hopelessness and fear inexplicably and uncontrollably. Lose all interest.

Fortunately, I survived. That feeling is just like what samuel beckett said. I have to go on. I can't go any further. I have to go on.

Once you squat down, you will lose the desire to stand up again.

When I was in junior high school, I read Guo Shan's article. Maybe life is like this, or life in China is like this. Many people crowded in an alley, some wanted to go in, some wanted to come out, and everyone silently robbed the road, leaving only a noisy heart.

I don't know if Sue's bright and clear eyes like children have these sad memories, but I think what she has must be calmer than me. You can see that her clean and beautiful handwriting is unforgettable. Play with your soul easily. I admit, when I sat at the same table with her, I didn't know how deeply influenced by her-she is a very determined person, and no one can change or influence her, but she easily shines and profoundly changes you-very incredible.

She taught me to laugh better than cry.

I feel so stubborn. This is the simple fact. But it takes too much time to learn.

Before I was seventeen, I endured the pain. After seventeen, I was numb and could not feel the pain.

You didn't like me that much before, and you couldn't bear to listen to me sigh. So now I just smile. But you're gone, and you'll never see me smile again. So I feel sad for the last time, because I never let you see a Xiaoqi you like.

In her rare spare time, Su He wrote many songs and arranged chords. After lights out, she groped her way to my bedroom with a guitar and recorded with her MP3 player. I was lying in bed listening to her childish voice, simple chords, simple and moving. At that time, it was always pleasant, as if I saw a bright color suddenly appearing on the gloomy picture, and the starlight flowed in front of my eyes all night. Such a beautiful day may never happen again. I remember that I only wrote a song called "Teenager", but it was dismissed as unrealistic by a group of friends because I made up a complicated prelude and variation for grandstanding. I never wrote again. Because I don't want to write any more, I feel embarrassed when I write. But since then, I have been keen on compiling guitar scores for all my favorite songs. Including one of my favorite songs, lube. I made it up after listening. Surh said that she auditioned with this song every time she tuned the strings. Hehe, I think it's complicated enough.

Su He showed me her romance novel. I can hardly laugh or cry. After circulating in a dormitory, the relationship was reviled. The reason is that literature should have true feelings. This is a theoretical statement. To put it bluntly, all romantic novels are written by people who have never played with their friends. It's so boring. They sell literature in the toilet and read constipation from going to the toilet.

That time, she was particularly depressed and buried her head in each of our jokes. Later, I was very sad. Look at her writing. It's wanton and long, like a flock of scattered birds. How clean and beautiful it is, it has got rid of the shackles of the secular. However, in the face of endless piles of mathematics and endless piles of tests, the helplessness on our faces masks the same sadness.

"We should have the farthest dream and live the simplest life"-this is what children can say. We are still children, so the land we conquer will not exceed the area covered by my feet.

This is such a great happiness that people always can't see the whole picture of it, so they don't know its existence.

I know that when we sit together and listen to the damn math class and know nothing, when I face all the flashy arguments in the political book, when I recite every corner of the history book for fear that I can't answer the genre and year of Waiting for Godot, I will think of my distant dream, which leads me on a long journey and tells myself that it is the true meaning of learning and the skeleton of knowledge that we have to trample on in the name of survival. Just why, you can only see her happy posture biting ice cream, but you can't see the child wandering on the dark road, stopping and waiting for someone to take her home.

She always likes to educate me that comfort is in short supply, you should realize this.

In fact, this is in tune with the indifference of the world.

Later, when I changed seats, I knew that I might never sit at the same table with her again, although I thought she might prefer it. But I sit next to the first place in my grade. Seeing her doing math day and night, I still feel like killing me.

In the early morning of April 10, I just finished reading the chapter introducing director jean renoir, and I received her short message.

"It's been ten years."

Finally, for a while.

Ke Ben Forever.

At that time, I really felt a little incredible. The child who forgot to turn on his mobile phone even remembered a strange death day. So I tried to reach for this old souvenir. It was an exciting time. In my memory, it seems that every day is midsummer. Children wear suspenders and striped sailor shirts, laugh like apples, and play their songs every day ... unless someone decides to leave early, leave in anger and die in music.

This kid rock, a genius who constantly contradicts between anger and innocence, has shot himself for ten years. They smell the child and never worry about incest and going with the flow ... this is what happened when he grew up. When he was a child, he wrote on the wall of his cabin, I hate my mom, I hate my dad, my dad hates my mom, and my mom hates my dad. This is really sad! The child never got rid of the shackles of the town. That's Aberdeen in Washington. The boy wandered under the bridge opening of Aberdeen North Bridge, worshiping the poet Rambo. People say that Kurt's pits and graffiti can still be seen under the North Bridge today.

That damn Remington M-20 shotgun screamed in his mouth, so he went far away and never came back.

Come like yourself, like you used to be, like what I want you to be, like a friend, like an old enemy, cherish time ... just like an ancient memorial hall, an ancient memorial hall. ...

That's it. I know everyone is leaving. I watched them leave in a dark corner, and I was speechless for a long time. In these cruel growth, I am anxious every day. I don't like to start doing math endlessly after sleeping for five hours. I don't like trying to recognize every word on the blackboard with my blurred vision. I don't like to grab a piece of paper and try my best to grab it ... I just want to wait for the dawn and darkness in time happily, fly like a child who really doesn't care-sit on the carpet.

-but I am always in a state of pity for my situation and questioning the meaning of life. This kind of pain is extremely profound and lonely. Just as everyone laughed at Sue and her premature aging, she just bowed her head and smiled gently.

I'm not lying. I think who laughs because who can't feel it. Really.

Su He sits in front of me on the left. Moreover, there is a person sitting in front of me who I don't like very much. My deskmate often complains for a long time because she can't go to the math alley and scratches on my desk. Many small things these days have made me deeply realize the indifference of personnel and further understand my independence. Surh and I have rarely talked. Gone are the days when you hit me and I robbed you in class. What's more sad is that I'm the only one who misses it.

But I suddenly feel stubborn. When it rains, I grab a dress and leave. Running through the dark street, the rain dripped down my cold ankle. So I suddenly stopped, thinking of philip kaufman's film Henry and Joan, Uma sat on a bench in a quiet street in the middle of the night. There is a line in it that Proust said that happiness is not madness. If so, I think I have never been happy. Many times, I will think of Surh's charming smile, sharp words and stubborn posture. This is a kind of nostalgia. I don't think I will simply like a child in the future, let alone be a disobedient and willful child. I understand that Surh is introspective and independent. I just want her to be happy.

Last time we changed seats, we moved to the window. Before studying at night, the sunset glow was just right and the sky was floating. A flock of birds passed by the window, and a shallow and beautiful shadow flowed over Su He's neck. I quietly watched Sue and her homework in the back seat under this incredible light and shadow. Like a good boy, I want to say something to her later. But I don't know what to say the first word. She couldn't see that the island behind her neck had left her flying marks.

Just like we can't see how many kinds of high heels rise and fall behind us.

But this does not prevent all good things from existing.

Sue and I are seventeen years old this year, and I'm almost eighteen. La la la la la, if one day you forget me, I will remind you again.

When I was seventeen, I was crazy about insomnia. Lying in bed listening to CD every night, looking up at the blank ceiling, tears can't stop flowing, and my heart hurts deeply. Occasionally, I will call Miss Z in the middle of the night, holding my mobile phone and choking at the most turbulent moment of tears, only hearing her breathing. Teacher Z is my former teacher, gentle and beautiful, and we are familiar with her. I often miss her. It's usually three o'clock in the morning when you hang up. If you still can't sleep, get up and wash your face, turn on the light and read the Bible word for word. After reading these pious words, I looked up and the night outside the window filled my eyes. The air is cold and humid.

Lying on my desk, I fell asleep before I knew it, and soon it was dawn.

Chapter 13 of 1 Corinthians says that when I was a child, my words were like children, my mind was like children, and my thoughts were like children. When you become a man, you will forget your children. We now look at it like a mirror, blurred. At that time, I will face to face. What I know now is limited, and I will know later, just as the Lord knows me.

What is left today is faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these three is love.

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