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Your life is so long (full text)

Serial: Shima 1 Yinqiante Author: Jing M.Guo Editor-in-Chief Press: Chunfeng Literature and Art Publishing House

Author: Jing M.Guo

When you are young, you are just beginning to understand this world, and you will be afraid of darkness, separation, all unknown journeys, death and such a short life. And after many years, you understand that your life will be so long. Those things you are afraid of, they are the eternal existence in this world.

So you slowly close your eyes and sing a long song in the evening. Those notes were washed clean and fragrant in the river of time. You think of the dusk with light snow and the heavy wheat fields in autumn.

white clouds are drifting slowly across the sky again.

1

How to start, so as to be less affected. I've been thinking about this problem for a long time.

The earliest glimpse of the world is the dark clouds rolling in the sky at night. At that time, I was sleeping in my mother's arms, my forehead was hot, and my mother walked to the hospital with me late at night. My father was holding an umbrella in front of my mother, and most of my body was exposed to the pouring rain, and my wet clothes were attached to my body. They walked anxiously through the night. Lightning illuminates a large sky in an instant.

so many years passed.

this kind of night reappeared countless times in my childhood.

After more years passed, my father still walked down the street with an umbrella and mother in his arm. The time in their bodies flows into the distant horizon like a sunset. They didn't walk in the heavy rain as quickly as they did then.

they walked silently and snuggly in the dense drizzle at dusk.

but the small town that grew old with my growth gradually became gray in the ashes. The price of a taxi still stays at the standard of starting at 5 yuan. It seems that almost 1 yuan can run through all the city centers. There seems to be no more change except becoming gray.

In addition to the emergence of two latest four-star hotels. There are also some abrupt nightclubs playing Dao Lang remixed electronic music.

Girls wearing heavy makeup can often be seen at the door bending over and vomiting, and the eye shadow melts around the eyes and is washed away by tears.

The child in their arms is now far away in Shanghai, the easternmost part of China. He is wrapped in a quilt and reading a German lesson on the sofa. In the room, besides his own deep breathing, there was the ticking sound of the wall clock.

He stood up and turned on the humidifier in the room. The central air conditioner that had been running all winter made his skin dry and unbearable.

he found that he didn't really like winter.

but if it snows, you might like it.

"The whole world shines gently." He remembered the sentence he had just written about snow.

2

I've always recalled my old self recently. This happens very, very frequently.

I think too much, and I often get up in the middle of the night to search my previous information online. I saw a lot of news at that time, saw a lot of traces of the past, saw myself with black bangs, and pinched my mouth nervously for the camera. I saw my 19-year-old Xinlang alone, standing in front of the camera in cheap clothes, pretending to be mature and pretending to be as calm as the world. See yourself crashing to the ground under countless swords and fists. Then I saw him wipe the dirt on his forehead and stood up slowly.

At such times, the past is always like ants forced to move by a sultry rainy day, queuing up to climb out of the dark cave and crawling over my heart neatly.

when they pass by, they all turn to look at me piteously and stretch out their little hands to touch my head.

they said: I understand everything.

they said, come on.

3

When I was in primary school, I was the best writer in my class.

Every Friday afternoon, there will be two composition classes, which is my happiest day every week. Next to the blackboard in the primary school classroom, there is a curriculum. Every time I throw garbage in the trash can next to me, I will quickly scan the words "composition class" with my eyes.

When I was in primary school, I carefully wrote every composition assigned by my teacher. Whether it is writing about the flower exhibition held in the park next to the school or going to the martyrs cemetery to sweep the grave. Every time the school organizes activities, the teacher will ask us to bring paper and pens and record the materials that need to be written. At that time, there were many classmates, so they just took a limp exercise book with them and put a pencil in their pocket. There are even more stubborn boys who will tear off a page casually and put it in their pockets.

But I always take the best hard copy notebook in my schoolbag, which is the prize I won by participating in the composition competition in the district.

I was only eight or nine years old at that time.

My little self, in order to get the teacher's praise and win the praise eyes, took a pen in a very pretentious way and recorded what she wanted to write.

At that time, when I squatted on the edge of the flower bed and copied the names of those flowers and plant materials, when I squatted on the wall and copied the materials of all the martyrs-

When I wrote, "Today, the sun is shining, white clouds are floating gently in the sky, like a group of cheerful sheep, and the school led all the students to the park to enjoy the peony", or "It was very quiet in the first round of Xinlang's home in the Martyrs Cemetery. We put our own paper flowers in front of the graves of the martyrs in turn. When we heard the teacher talk about the heroic deeds of the martyrs, many students shed tears of emotion. We think that when we grow up, we must protect our country and defend our country like them. "

When I heard the primary school Chinese teacher read my article in front of the whole class in standard Mandarin, I didn't think that one day, this one squatted by the flower bed and copied "The buds of Luoyang Spring are sharp and round; One day, I will walk on the infinitely soft but extremely rough red carpet because of such writing.

The most vivid sentence in my memory was read in the air by the teacher in standard Mandarin:

-It was the biggest summer, and the green of the Martyrs Cemetery was heavy and solemn. The sunshine is generous and rich, beating on everyone's chest like the tide. And the white clouds are still silent, staying in the vast sky.

But whether it's walking down the red carpet or trekking in the cold ice field, these are very, very distant future.

What happened at that time was that the teacher asked five students with the best composition in our class to contribute to the Young Pioneer, and all four students' articles were published.

I'm the only one who hasn't published an article.

that day after school, I ran to a flower bed behind the school with my small bag on my back.

I sat on the edge of the flower bed with my head down for a long time, and waited until the sun almost set before I stood up and ran home in a hurry.

Noisy sounds turned into numerous dense thorns in the last bell after school, which stuck in my young and inferior heart.

4

Many years passed after that.

I am in Grade Two.

I have my first pair of LINING sneakers.

I'm beginning to think Giordano and Benirall are brand-name clothes. At that time, there was no Metersbonwe Bang Wei or Samma. I once used my pocket money saved for a long time to buy a Giordano vest of 98 yuan.

in the same year, I published a very short poem in a magazine.

When I turned to the page of my article with uncontrollable excitement and pointed out my name to my classmate, he was all smiles: "Haha, what a coincidence, it's the same name as you."

5

We all say that as long as the road is covered with crumbs, we can find the original road along the road before the birds peck it clean. However, we have overlooked that every tiny crumb is actually no different from dust. When it is rubbed into the eyes, it can also shed tears.

6

When I was in junior high school, I watched Don't Cry at Seventeen and copied many sentences in my diary. I was once moved by the youth in the TV series, and I cried bitterly. I fell on the sofa and put my hand deep into the gap of the sofa cushion, and tears rolled out one by one. After that, I had to go out in a hurry because I was going to be late for class. My throat was still choking, and my tears were still hanging on my face, so I rushed into the classroom.

Learn from the high school students on TV and hide in the quilt with a flashlight to keep a diary. Although junior high school students do not live on campus, there is no need to cut off electricity, and no teacher will come to check their sleep.

but I just want to be them. Become them who are wantonly spreading their youth.

I want to be a more mature being.

that kind of adoration, almost looking up. Reflect the yearning for the beautiful youth of high school students into the heart and turn it into a huge vision.

Write your own story on red manuscript paper regularly, put it in a heavy envelope and put it in the mailbox.

at that time, it was very difficult to buy regular red manuscript paper. At that time, students began to write letters with colorful stationery. At that time, there were watermelons, pencils and Korean notebooks. The stationer at the school gate always pulls out a thick stack of dusty manuscript paper from the corner and sells it to me. I stuffed them into my schoolbag.

after that, I will go to the school mailbox every day to see if there are any letters for me.

one month, two months and four months have passed. Finally, I finally decided to sink into the sea again.

when the sun sets, I stand in front of the school mailbox and stand on tiptoe to look into the gap.

the shadow is quietly printed on the concrete floor.

the wind shook it.

a quiet campus at six in the afternoon. Sporadic crowds walked slowly through my great loss and tears.

These are crumbs that have been rubbed into the eyes.

7

When I participated in the new concept composition contest, my parents didn't know, and neither did my school.

The classmates and friends around me know.

they have all kinds of expressions. Encouraged, come on.

There are also satire, ridicule and indifference.

I'm not going to write casually and then win the grand prize, as other winners said.

I really want to win the first prize. With all one's strength, toward the most vain existence. I wrote seven articles of 5, words. I bought seven magazines and cut out seven application forms.

I flew to Shanghai with a huge black bag on my back six months later.

that was the first time I saw the huge wings of an airplane. In the dark night sky, the flashing lights at the front of the wings beat the frequency that pulled my heart.

8

Please fold the memories with the present.

Please balance vanity with dreams.

please disassemble the sky and the earth.

please bear the glory and loneliness.

use the weight of silence.

Please follow me all the way to the desolate end and fly to the vast ice field covered with cold.

the end of light and ink.

9

Later, my story was magnified under the spotlight. Recorded in text photos and videos.

it doesn't matter what kind of person you are.

what matters is what kind of person you are playing.

you should wear fine clothes and be gentle.

you should be calm in grief and joy, and you should be tolerant.

lose your helmet and armor all the way, but at the same time put a stronger iron wall on your heart.

1

There are times when I want to give up-

On many nights, I slammed my keyboard to the ground because I couldn't write it.

On many occasions, when I was blinded by the spotlight, I was caught off guard by the sudden head-on attack.

When I saw my readers rushing in front of me, holding up my book and tearing it in half.

At the time of low tide, faced with the readers watching coldly in twos and threes in front of the signing desk, I was at a loss.

When suddenly rushing from the signing crowd to point at me and say, "Do you feel shameless?".

When I saw that my article was slightly modified and then posted on the Internet, I said that it was a sentence from another author's article, which led to the conclusion that "this is the evidence that Jing M.Guo copied her". When I was speechless, I was even more angry. The uninformed people expressed their humiliation to me in their replies. I understand that the author's original text is not like this at all, but not everyone knows it. I am so clear because the author they think I copied is Qi Vionian, and the article they clamored for being copied is Sleeping on the Road, which I reviewed and published in Island. When I slammed the mouse against the wall, my tears still flowed out of my eyes.

When being entangled and dragged by the dense eyes, it is pulled to the colder deep-sea canyon.

There are many, many times when sad facts are hidden under those seemingly beautiful false surfaces, like daggers wrapped in brocade, warm and without front.

11

The first book signing in my life was when I was 2 years old.

The publication of Fantasy City caused a sensation at that time. No one, including myself, thought that "Fantasy City" could become the best seller of the year that swept the book market.

At that time, the publishing house asked me if I would like to sign the book. I must say that at that time, I didn't quite understand the meaning of signing the book.

And when I walked into the meeting with my backpack on my back, I subconsciously grabbed my schoolbag for an instant.

12

There are many descriptions that can be compared and simulated.

roar.

the vibration of the plane taking off.

the sound of tsunami.

the sound of the hurricane sweeping through the forest.

I didn't learn to be generous at the age of 2 in the face of the tidal wave-like crowd and my name shouted in their mouths.