Letters and essays written in early autumn

It's 4 a.m.

65438+ February is over.

I am writing this letter to you just to know how you are doing.

-Leonard Cohen, an old Canadian folk song, wrote this sentence on a postcard to a friend. I didn't expect an old and vigorous singer to have such a soft moment: 4 am at the end of February in 65438.

Talk to Brother Z every once in a while, and I don't think the water is old. It's always caused by a topic for a while. Almost every morning, when you open your mailbox, you can see his letter. When you have a good rest, you can reply immediately. The content of the reply is either long or short, and it is only one or two sentences long. This letter may lead to the next "topic" You like this rhythm, this day, and you don't want to be separated because of your procrastination and laziness. Whenever I meet his words in bookstores or magazines, I will read them carefully like a serious reader. Just more willing to experience his efforts and diligence than the average reader.

I think we are friends in our hearts, even if we don't meet. When it comes to socializing with friends, you are the kind of person who almost instinctively resists the rapidity of the river and likes the long flow of water. You feel that there is something stronger than anything in your heart, and you would rather have something lasting. Unfamiliar people will think you are a boring person. If you are willing to leave such an impression, it seems that "responsibility" will be much less.

He said that sometimes I am very tired, but something in my heart is urging me. You think it's understandable. Generally speaking, time is pressing, or more poetically, it is time or years. In fact, you think this is your self-expectation. It's not as simple as reaching the peak and infinite scenery, but striding towards your ideal state (not only life, but also life).

At this time, I am embarrassed to mention my ideal again. I should find someone who won't laugh at you in advance. In short, I have to do some preparatory work in advance, and some words can only be said to people who may understand you. Look around at your peers who are busy with business. It seems that you have been in a small cell for many years. Think of Calvin's Escape: A person is waiting for me in a pub/he probably doesn't know that I am under the eaves of a rainy street, and any idea becomes a choice.

I'm afraid it will be the same in the future, but there are fewer people who don't want to, and more people who recognize and even indulge.

When a person is young, there will always be a black-and-white stage with a clear distinction between right and wrong. There is a clear distinction between Ding Mao and Mao Mao. It's just that the old black and white are slowly eroded by life and time, and no longer deliberately summarize the extremes of "best" or "nothing". Today, black and white are mixed and sometimes confused, which is a complicated process. It's simple to know yourself, but it's still quite difficult to practice. The heart is very simple and complicated, wandering from place to place, excited and depressed, and there is no certainty. People have many faces, some are sunny, black and white, just like many people know you; Some of them are very secretive, and it is not easy to show off when hiding in the corner at ordinary times. It only works at critical moments. It's not the difference between true and false. Can only be found in some things or relatively important choices: oh, so that's it.

Sometimes it's strange, but as time goes on, such opportunities become less and less, and you know yourself better. Is that so? It's just that we never know enough about ourselves, and the deepest part is the part between controllable and uncontrollable. It's inexplicable and beyond words.

He said: Maybe an idealist like me is out of date, but I always comfort myself. Another possibility is to work overtime. You agree very much. He said this like a simple child. But it is not "possible" but "sure", and it is not to buy the latest mobile phone computer. Well, similar obsolescence is outdated. Maybe after self-affirmation and certification, you can get more sense of security by the way? Just like an old record, people nowadays can't learn how to learn, and how to learn feels artificial. Is that so?

There is a saying well said, long-term harmony must be divided, and long-term harmony must be combined. Coupled with the changes in Hedong Hexi in the past 30 years, the wind and water have turned around, and idealism may make a comeback one day. You didn't have time to set up any ideals throughout your childhood and adolescence, but now you find that there are many superficial and buried ideals (although you always habitually attribute them to wishes, the most serious thing is desire), and you make yourself look like the successor of capitalism.

No matter how you deny it, you still have the shadow of an idealist You can't get rid of it, let alone get rid of it.

After all, it really doesn't matter. What about avant-garde and outdated? You are still you, you can only choose a life that suits you best and can meet most of your needs, and live from the perspective of seeing the world. Like all normal people, they work at sunrise and rest at sunset. As the Hungarian writer KerteszImre said in The Diary of a Boatman (published by Writers Publishing House/translated by Yu Zemin in September 2004), there are still several themes to be written, several books to be read and several meditations to be realized (partially realized). There are also a few nights when I want to walk and think.

They are all very common things, which seem easy to get, but because of personal expectation, attention and investment, it is also your ideal to show a unique brilliance. At this moment, I thought to myself, what would it be like if two idealists came together? You're happy to keep imagining.

two

There are too many philosophical and metaphysical topics, some contradictory dialogues and doubts about how to stand on their feet. If there are sporadic readers, they are likely to get bored.

The pattern is not big, but it is true, which is what you expect. You won't change yourself, but you can't talk about persistence. It doesn't matter, who came and who saw it, you don't even consider it. Who are you and how do you introduce yourself? About June 2009, the new book is about to go to Fu Zi. Editor C asked you to write a self-introduction. You wrote: I am willing to be an honest student. I was and will be. C reply, be serious. You're thinking, what's wrong with that? Furthermore, a website also has lines with similar functions: How should I introduce myself? It's simple, a little boring. The rest, to think. ...

Do you think this chapter should have some practical experiences, so that the whole chapter will not be shrouded in clouds and fog, and maybe there will be some stops, so as to confirm the source of these experiences and let you go further. Speaking of yourself, you are an ordinary person with a clear route.

When a person grows up, he plays alone and cries alone. There seems to be a lonely tree in his personality. As an adult, I suddenly broke into the team with heavy manual labor, which was extremely uncomfortable. Whether it's in the middle of winter or summer, I sweat like rain and wake you up round after round until the host feels scared. Every time I went out, I thought about what to eat. I ate several meals and brought three lunch boxes, but I didn't think it was enough. Cover mosquito nets occasionally and study in foreign apartments. When I can't see two or three pages, I always sleep like mud. When I wake up, I grope under my pillow or bed. At that time, I wanted to escape every day, but in this state of constant contradiction, you persisted for three years without delaying a train.

I don't mean to look down on manual workers. On the contrary, I will respect them. They are simple, happy, calm, calm, straightforward and strong inside. They make up for a lesson you missed in the past, or the most important one.

The reason why I got off the bus halfway is such a one-day cycle, so I can't see the end at all, or the end is close at hand, as peaceful and safe as many masters who have been racing for a lifetime. After retirement, they are completely unaccustomed to the fast-paced life, including normal work and rest hours. Like you at the beginning, it seems that children who were expelled from the game or deprived of toys have seen their tears when they broke up with the train, big and clear.

You know you can't stick to it just for a decent salary, so you are desperate to escape. Now think about it, if I had stayed at the beginning, I would have become accustomed to it over time, just like being born for a train, and finally I would have reached the superb realm of integration of people and vehicles. Sometimes repeating the process many times will become inertia, and you are afraid of this inertia. Just like Brother Z in What Is My Life. Say: live in an inertial life state full of inertia and collective security.

After that, while running a sports car, you continue to learn for yourself and try to rewrite your possible future trajectory. Later, I worked as an advertising designer, event planner, advertising company manager, Art editor, part-time newspaper, editor of literary supplement (these two words are worth fighting for a while), and part-time radio hotline host. A few years ago, I had three part-time jobs at the same time. In addition to the normal 8 hours, the daily schedule of each part-time job is divided into hours (such as the completion date indicated in the contract, the delivery date promised to the editor, and supplements).

Every day is a countdown. When I wake up in the morning, I will mark the work I should finish today, so sometimes I will suddenly be in a daze. I won't forget a date or miss anything, will I? I always end up scaring myself. Except for a proofreading problem, the others are still running normally.

It was like a spinning top, but I didn't feel tired at all. It seems to be a good time to prove yourself and yourself, except for the diligence and strength that are greatly discounted because of bravado. You have nothing to rely on.

During this period, there was an upsurge of going abroad in China, and I also went through the formalities of going abroad with my friends. At that time, you were about 24 or 5 years old, and your work was not satisfactory. You were just young. These two reasons alone can support your decisive choice. What are you hesitating about? The first plan is the country, and there is a second plan for insurance. It didn't go smoothly and didn't encounter too much difficulty. As a result, mom said something that made you think about it all night and then give up.

People always have a purpose that they think is important and most unwilling to let go. You stay for this purpose. Just like two ticket stubs with serial numbers, after they are cut open, friends will cross the ocean and have a good trip. Although there was occasional contact, it was not as enthusiastic as it was then, and 20 years passed unconsciously. Mom left five years ago, and she no longer needs your important purpose, but you have crossed the threshold of 40 years old. At that time, the desire to "live strong" and the desire to flourish like weeds have become extremely shallow. Without touching the position of regret or not, you leave yourself clearly in your imagination. It is an opportunity and life that belongs only to your friends, and it is a trajectory that has nothing to do with yourself.

Hou Wenyong said: Life is nothing more than a process of constant choice. The regret of failure is that you missed success, while the regret of success is that you don't know what you missed.

What did you miss? That's about it. When I think about it, I feel that I have arranged my time reasonably and planned myself very prosperous. Actually, I'm not like this at all. I should be less arrogant and always be cautious. You think you've turned the whole process upside down. I spent many years in other people's small circles and big teams, and then I died.

three

My old friend L sent two WeChat pictures: one night, a small airport, a small moon and a quiet wind; This morning, the top management of a hotel looked at the traffic and felt very sad ... long time no see.

I have a special feeling about the previous photos. There is a waning moon in mid-air, an empty tarmac, and several planes covered with dust covers are neatly placed. I don't know how long it's been since I spread my wings, which makes me extremely lonely. Ginger light, like a fading yellow sand, like the appearance of time settling everything. Over the years, we have experienced many twists and turns, no longer naive, no longer complicated, no longer overcast, but we still long for one day, knowing that it is a dream return trip to soothe our gradually barren heart. In this tone, perhaps because of understanding, I am even more speechless.

You have had many similar moments, the so-called empathy, in the face of old friends for many years, only partial experience. You advise l: endure it, be strong to the point where you and I don't want to.

Time flies, and it's almost the end of August. In early autumn, after the rain, there are faint clouds floating in the sky. You stand on the balcony, surrounded by high-rise buildings that are rising gradually, only the corner of the western hills that once took in everything in a glance. The city is getting bigger, but the inner space is getting narrower and narrower. Do you know who is to blame, or are you not determined enough? These years seem to be constantly leaving and changing, and I have hurried to today.

Does haste necessarily mean impetuousness? Relative to slow, quiet or calm, such as a variety, such as a state. Besides, don't you think there is a second answer to the effect that.

It's easy to talk about it now, but I'm still in a hurry and embarrassed, wrapped up, and I don't have time to think about many things, and I can't control myself many times. All kinds of plans made by individuals seem beautiful, but there is no room for them, and the possibility of realization is about zero by the way; The more new books are kept, the more they are piled up in every corner of the house, and they have never enjoyed the pleasure of reading by the sunny window, including the desire to write repeatedly stranded or evaporated, and eventually became empty talk; The whole day, I finally waited until late at night. I wanted to do a lot of things, but I was often hit by a cold water splashed in mid-air, and my mood was low. The rest of the time is always hovering between narcolepsy and insomnia. I really want to know: what made you change? How long will this state last? Still no solution, I don't know whether to give up or continue to wait, waiting for the tide to recede and waiting for tomorrow night.

French writer MarcelProust said: The past is not just a moment, it will never leave its original place. I remember a long time ago, my friend S asked you, what do you want to do after 4 pm? You said after 4 o'clock, it should be the third pot of tea ... now I just need to think about it. The past is condensed in the amber of time and lives quietly.

I just found a small column in an official WeChat account the day before yesterday that I hadn't noticed before. There is a short motto every day. Personally, I think it can be called "Soul Calendar", which is similar to chicken soup, but it is just a wake-up call and doesn't play any role at all. For example, the content of recent days: August 23, it is appropriate to move forward; August 24, avoid eternity; August 25th, appropriate desire. ...

Progress and desire are easy to understand, encouragement is normal, but how to solve the eternal one? And it is taboo, so it feels puzzling. Ordinary life, ordinary days, where are so many taboos? Only time is eternal, irresistible, irreversible and cannot be stationed. Rarely reread the previous words, and the result of the confirmation of the hatchback is likely to get a sigh, just because of the wrong words.

At this moment, the scene described in Autumn by the Austrian poet RainerMariaRilke (translated from the North Island) is about to unfold before us. Let review and preview go together;

Lord, it's time. Summer is its peak.

Put your shadow on the sundial,

Let the wind blow through the pasture.

Let the last fruit of the branch be full;

Give the south two more days of fine weather,

Let them mature and put them

The last sweetness was squeezed into spirits.

No one needs to build a house at this time.

At this time, whoever is lonely will always be lonely.

Wake up, read, write long letters,

Stay on the tree-lined road

Wandering and falling leaves.

Reading poetry does not need too much theory, but it needs to go deeper and further along the poet's word order. Just wake up, read a book, write a long letter-such as several long shots superimposed together, and think of the word sadness from my heart, blurring the name of "pain" mountain. People who have been with me all the way have gradually gone away, but there is only endless road ahead.

I forget why, a sentence written in my notebook: At this age, coffee is not so hot, beer is not so cold, and tea is getting quieter and quieter. Is this a self-portrait?

This subtitle "Notes of Introverts" is a long letter you write to your heart. Occasionally, you ask yourself: Is this trouble worth it? Then answer yourself: there are no small things in your heart, and you are eager to record those moments that cause inner twists and turns and turmoil, just like making a gesture of please follow me to an empty area.

I want to write a long letter, sometime when I forget the time.

four

Unconsciously, I have been collecting maps for many years. It was not a hobby at first, but for practical purposes, I went to a city and bought a map, most of which was used to check the bus and subway lines. After I came back, I put it with some tickets for scenic spots, tourist postcards and other bills, so I saved a lot of them sporadically. When you find that the carton is full, you suddenly feel rich. This is your journey.

Where has all the time gone? After making full use of these maps, I can explain them clearly for you.

In addition, aside from the practical function of the map, the map is not entirely to guide you to a certain place. You think those strange place names that you have never set foot on and may never go to for a lifetime are extremely beautiful. You like to read street names and place names in familiar or unfamiliar areas, and guess what kind of customs are hidden here while reading, such as Sanshu, Iceland, Krakow and ushuaia at the end of the world. Remember reading the French writer Marcel a long time ago? MarcelProust said, yes, it should be him.

You want to describe a search process: sometimes, your memory is amazing. It seems that there are many established and known channels for you to find it smoothly, even without following the map. This is a situation; Another time, I rummaged through my closet at home in the middle of the night, and my hands were gray and I couldn't find them anywhere. At this time, I had to give up my determination to achieve my goal. Stop looking, but still unwilling, there seems to be a gray space in my heart. At this moment, there are many small question marks flashing: I don't mean that matter can't be destroyed, but how can it be destroyed? You start to doubt specious memories.

As far as I can remember, a vague map is not a document that allows you to clear customs unimpeded. Memory that can be reused in the past is obviously useless and even fragile at this time. But no matter what the result is, finding and working is by no means useless. Every time you rummage through these books and words written on various pieces of paper, you will find how much you love books, how much you love writing, and how much you love such days.

Today is lucky, somewhere in between. Proust-style memory leads you to find your previous reading notes in your notebook. He said: the names of some railway stations will also fascinate people when reading railway travel guides, which will make you dream at a certain station. It was midsummer and the day was drawing to a close. The advancing elm fence in the north has become desolate and secluded, and the station is hidden between two rows of fences. The trees are orange in the wet and cold wind, and the early winter scene in some places is like this, so these station names also have that attractive charm.

For a new friend, you will look up his city on the map, and for an old friend, it is the mailing place, as well as the block and house number on the envelope, which is more familiar. You are looking forward to following the map, the unexpected day. It's just like this passage written after reading the "Amazing Record" by Portuguese poet FernadoPessoa (translated by Shanghai Literature and Art Publishing House/1999 edition/Han Shaogong): Can you write him a letter? I also used that kind of dark blue envelope-in his few books, he wrote down these familiar place names like body over and over again with deep affection and indifference, read and combed them repeatedly, and I could even post a complete mailing address for him, and wrote on a dark blue envelope that could not be mailed (that is a unique envelope in Portugal): Portugal-Lisbon-Baix District-dorado Reyes.

A letter, a letter written in early autumn, is sent to your beloved lonely writer. The fact that you want to write a long and long letter is full of attraction and makes people think a lot.

Regarding what to write or how to write, in this letter, I might as well review those old words that are not long but are separated by six years. The fourth chapter of Autumn Harmony with the theme of "The Sound of Seasons" (2008);

..... So, I understand that it is getting harder and harder to write like this. When I learned the news, I was on the last bus home. The lights inside the car were dim and the lights outside the window were flashing. I have been writing for many years, and sometimes what appears in front of me is not some vague ideas, but one or several lines of slowly clear words, such as this moment.

As time goes on, the morning light rises gradually. I don't know if this distance will get bigger or dry up in the future ... It's just that times have changed and we are all passers-by. Walking in the street, we can often walk into a trance-like time and space. Those who leave take away a part of their lives, and the rest look at each other with memories. On a street corner, in a distracted moment, I met the light and shadow. Some words can be written in a good way.

five

Recordar: It comes from Latin re-cordis, and I have to review it in my mind.

This is a good statement. Let the original mysterious thinking and emotional traction not only be mysterious, but actually come back to life. How tempting, you can't resist, and surrender instantly. Time is a fascinating theme, which makes people linger. It is also a tree hole or a mailbox. Put something you want to say in or wait to send it.

Memories and feelings are so subtle and elusive. This process is sometimes willful and sometimes depressing, depending on the degree and depth of your desire. You think it is based on the hard truth that if they are separated for a long time, they will begin to converge. What you need to do is to salvage diligently, don't worry and don't be discouraged. This net is empty, and the next one may be full, just like salvaging objects deposited at the bottom of the river.

I usually like some books with deep words, slow speech, unpopular and slightly strange music. I feel that these creators don't have any catering attitude. They are absorbed in what they love, as if they are trying to accomplish something by themselves. Although there are no perfect things in this world, they are at least extremely precious-think of them and you will have strength. As the British writer Virginia Woolf said: Life is not a series of symmetrically arranged carriage lights; Life is a halo, which surrounds us from our consciousness to the end.

In recent years, I have also written some pure retreat words, and the speech speed is so slow that I don't even realize that time is swimming outside the window, like the effect of slow mirror processing. Being immersed in the same series for a long time and having a low tone actually feels like a kind of "injury" (really, you really don't want to mention this word, but you can't find a substitute at the moment). Some time ago, I often felt empty, indifferent and unreachable. I don't know what happened and I don't want to know. Anyway, my heart is empty. I want to incite and call on myself to act quickly to drive it away, even if there is only a faint black and white in front of me.

I think of a sentence by the British writer JulianBarnes in England (translated by Yilin Press/2065438+May 2005/Ma Hongqi): The past has never been a simple past, but the foundation for the present to exist with peace of mind.

At this intersection, you think the most important thing is not fame and fortune, but hard-won freedom. You are too lazy to do those things, although you admit that it is also a way of life, and at some point you are smart. You don't want to force yourself, but you would rather retire, but no matter where you retire, there is a relatively clean and vast space waiting for you, which is your "foundation of existence"

You don't want to dirty this place, such as painting, reading and writing. Thinking of some bright things in my heart, thinking of some words related to light, even in the cold winter, I feel that sunshine makes everything beautiful.

I have been writing letters under the desk lamp all morning. There are letters I want to write and people I want to correspond with. Needless to say, I still feel warm. In addition, I want to write a long letter and put it in the mailbox of time.

If it is only in the order of feelings, it will be chaotic, like a handful of fine sand. Even if you try to collect it together, it will look chaotic. So how about "10 year" as a relatively constant unit of measurement, then how would you recall or describe your journey?

It is better to make an outline at this time: the initial memory is not very reliable. Forget it for the time being. I remember that from the age of 10-20, the sunshine in my youth was so bright and the pace of running was so light. The melodious harmonica in the background is accompanied by laughter in the sunny courtyard, and I have never felt carefree lightness since then;

20-30 years old is an unforgettable journey. The reason why it is unforgettable is nothing more than the first taste of hardships, ups and downs, which is gold 10 year. There have been many firsts on this road, and I feel how amiable the sweat in winter is, while the tears in the middle of the night are still hot;

How to name the interval between 30 and 40 years old? Even on the road that I just walked, there are so many forgetfulness buried in my memory. It is a pale space and filled with fog. The turning point here is far beyond the previous 10 year. You suddenly fell into a blank and didn't know how to define this short history. Do you need a definition? You think it is necessary, at least it is beneficial and harmless.

All efforts in this regard are oriented to the ocean. According to past experience, you know you can't sail on a calm sea. As Teaya said: Before you reach the ocean, you may be divided into many tributaries. But you should know that those who suddenly leave you are all part of you. Like you belong to the sea.

This is the fragment you want to write down, and it is some sites you have visited in the past five years. If you find it, you will find it. If you can't find it, you will be separated, even if you try to be complete. Sculptor Xiang Jing said: "All my thinking and work are to resist nothingness." Even without feelings, the world will be much more boring, but the so-called "feelings" can't be true.

It's not even noon 12, thunder is rolling outside the window, and it's dawn in Shanghai. The sky is like ink, and it's really like autumn. After the rain, I got tickets for autumn. Enthusiasm and prosperity are gradually transitioning, advancing towards withering and desolation, and perhaps inadvertently evolved into another vastness between you and me:

We are dust and nothingness, and all we do is wind. ...