1
Ever since I was a child, I have often heard my grandmother mention the beauty of fireworks. She said that fireworks were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life and the most beautiful sight in the world. The illusory and beautiful images of fireworks were constantly cast into my heart through countless moving descriptions. Perhaps due to the young mind is not mature, and perhaps with the passage of time the memory will always become more and more fuzzy, so the childhood era is always in a hurry, many years later to recall only left at the time of the broken and withered picture.
Grandmother described to me from childhood fireworks are endless, flowing, and at the same time is rare, static. Fireworks, like a fated lover of mine, she and I will meet sooner or later, sooner or later is unpredictable, but will definitely meet. I have seen real fireworks from pictures in books or on TV, but they were silent and unreal. Every New Year's Eve, occasionally see people put small fireworks, but that is far from being able to compare with the fireworks in my heart, I even feel that the small like a dead dog panting like fireworks is a blasphemy to my heart lovers.
Whenever night falls, the city is dark and gloomy. I look far away from the distant lights of the tall buildings and flashing neon lights, I will be transformed into fireworks, trying to ease my thoughts of the destined lover, but even I know that it is futile. And so my thoughts of that imaginary maiden and my desire to meet her grew with each passing day. It was a good thing that when I was about to pass my childhood, there was a rare fireworks display in my small town.
It was a summer night when I was ten years old, and the sky was studded with a few stars that sparkled with warm light, and the aggressive darkness of the night seeped
into my breath. Several trucks loaded with firework grids had reached the beach under the Hwasu Bridge. I was overwhelmed by the number of people milling about on the riverbank and the Hwasu Bridge, and the bustle of cars in the middle of the bridge. Not far from the beach, crowds of people gathered, each with chairs or benches. The windows and rooftops of nearby buildings were filled with people. Police officers maintaining traffic order and party managers were busy. It irritated me that my first meeting with my longed-for lover had such a large audience.
I waited with my mother sitting in a spot with a great view not far from the beach, while my father stayed at home to take care of my grandmother, who was sick in bed. In and around the people chatting mother did not notice the whole body are shaking me, shaking by no means more than because of nervousness, I think more is excited and anticipation, and even mixed with a trace of inexplicable loss and emptiness ......
Suddenly the distant roar of fireworks, the fireworks display began. The young me stood up through the crowd of people, and could repeatedly glimpse the fireworks spread out in the night sky, transforming into huge and magnificent scales and wheels of fire. With a roar, the fireworks soared again, and I turned my head as an unnatural greenish-blue glow illuminated my mother's face.
With a roaring explosion, the pillar of fire suddenly rose from the beach, and I was so exhilarated that even my body trembled. The spearhead of the pillar of fire, a drum straight into the sky, once it reaches the highest point, it exploded to cut through the night sky, countless golden stars scattered into a circle, scurrying and chasing, red, green, purple concentric circles from the inner side of the next outward expansion, the inner round has long since disappeared. Once the outer round is dispersed, another layer of golden-colored round and spread in the lower part. The fireworks below rise into the sky one after another, blooming while puffing and puffing straight up. Immediately afterward, the glow of the sparks below as they exploded mirrored the residual smoke of the sparks in front of them in three dimensions. The sparks fell in droves, and everything died out.
My first meeting with her ended how it did, and all that was left after the fireworks stopped was the endless night sky. In the drifting smell of nitrous oxide, you can only smell the breath of the fireworks that you can't see. The roar of the fireworks seems to be still floating around my ears. Smoke wrapped around the river, Huazhou Bridge also looks hazy. The neon lights on the far side of the bridge were like a brilliant afterglow of the setting sun, spinning like brilliant stardust against the dark background. A haze of smoke filled the sky. At that moment, there was a deafening siren sound, a car was driving over the bridge, people rubbing their shoulders and leaving. I stood frozen in place, and then slowly walked towards the beach. After the fireworks, the beach was desolate, broken and dirty. After the exhaustion of the fireworks cartons and all kinds of garbage are scattered on the beach, the beige-colored beach in the past is now like a thugs after the abuse of the girl bruises, ragged lying there.
On the way home, the hustle and bustle of the people who had just left hadn't yet faded from my mind, and an inexplicable sense of loss echoed in my heart. With the sadness of parting, I shifted my praying eyes to the darkness of the far side of the roof, where a splendor could still be seen above the tall buildings. The lights were like a fading moon sinking behind the ridge of the roof. My long-awaited meeting with her
was undoubtedly perfect and exciting, but at the same time it was temporary and one-off. I had just experienced the joy of being together and then the sadness of parting, the emptiness and the silence. The feeling is like the emptiness that characterizes a man after masturbation.
The day after the fireworks, his grandmother died.
2
I can't recall any happy memories of my teenage years. I have thought back and forth that the so-called reminiscence is an irritating contraption in itself, and I am in a certain prejudice, and have always clung to this idea. How to pass day after day without doing anything at all. In the restless time of adolescence, it's hard to endure even the smallest things that aren't worth mentioning. The word "youth" itself is hot and warm, isn't it?
In adolescence, falling in love is like smoking and drinking, not wanting to be outdone by one's peers, not wanting to be looked down upon by one's peers, and in any case wanting to be part of the same, with all the visions of adulthood and purely carnal desires.
So it's only natural that I dated a girl in high school. She is a good character in the class next to me, wearing a pair of glasses and gaze always with a few lazy girl, named Yang Zi. For Yangzi, I am not out of love, because I am y in love with - that and I have only had a one-sided lover - fireworks. I waited for the next fireworks display to come, and I waited in the same way that a couple in a long-distance relationship looks forward to seeing each other. But at this point, I'll take the mentality of a cheating man to engage with Yangzi.
I eat with her every night after class, to the evening self-study, they returned to the class, every Saturday night after vacation sometimes will meet together shopping, how not salty relationship. At first, the face of classmates behind the back of the discussion and those envious eyes, the vanity of adolescence and sense of satisfaction filled my young body, but soon after, the age of the peculiarly fickle heart so that I gradually tired of it. I was sick of the day-to-day mechanics of the meetings and the bland greetings. I was ready to run away, and I began to minimize the number of times I saw her for various reasons.
One afternoon after class, I was ready to skip school with my friends. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good deal on a new product, but I'm sure you'll be able to get a good deal on a new product, and I'm sure you'll be able to get a good deal on a new product, and I'm sure you'll be able to get a good deal on a new product. Yangzi and I hadn't seen each other for over a week, and I felt uncomfortable with the weird atmosphere. The afterglow of the setting sun was cast through the bright clouds on the stained classroom windows, as well as on Yanko's metal eyeglass frames and my face.
"You don't see each other just to skip class every day?" After a short silence she bit her lip and took the lead, her short shoulder length hair blowing in the wind.
"Just go out and have fun, the classroom is stuffy." I kept staring at the faded, shoe-print-trampled, dirty wall on the lower left.
"That's not good. It's not graduation yet, but it's more or less always a learning experience, and you can come to me if you don't know anything." Her tone and expression still penetrate the usual gentle.
A wave of inexplicable annoyance and shame surged to my heart, the reason why the voice, which was so gentle, was able to stir up my anger was something I could not understand at the time. I jerked my head up to look at her, but I couldn't make out the eyes under her clear lenses in the afterglow of the evening sun. This made me even more irritated, as if I felt she was taunting me with a wry gaze. The fire set the fuse of the fireworks on fire in my mind, and I turned and walked quickly out of the hallway.
Yangzi and I hadn't seen each other for more than ten days since then, and just when I thought the romance was over, I saw her downstairs in the classroom after school on Saturday night. Upon seeing me she looked up with the same tired look in her eyes as always.
"It's been a busy few days haven't had time to meet na."
"Eh, go out for a stroll." A strange thought rose in my mind.
"Good." The almost mournful innocence of Yangzi's flawlessly tired voice was blown away in the early summer's fluttering, flower-scented headwind.
The park at night was hot and lonely. On the road neither of us said even a word, well not far from the burst of cicadas let me feel a hint of life. Under a huge balsam camphor tree we stopped in unison, it was dimly lit. Yangzi looked into my eyes, a gaze that held an aching hope in its meaninglessness. This innocent, fleeting hope was by no means weak, though it might not even be apparent to her. A marvelous thought came to me, and I had a dim feeling that it was a dangerous and unclean state of mind.
We embraced each other and kissed passionately, a wildly solicitous kiss befitting the age and craved by the adolescent body. Under the shelter of this stout balsam fir we declaimed, my short-sleeved spine tingling with the firm blades of grass.
I thought of fireworks, which is as marvelous a state of mind as a man cheating on his wife out in the open suddenly remembering his dainty wife at home. I recalled the empty, wilting state of mind I had felt after meeting Flame as a young boy. That feeling was undoubtedly sad, and that sadness was destined to be more than I could bear.
In a trance I pushed Yangzi away and fled like a deserter on the battlefield. I looked up into the sky and saw the fireworks, which brilliantly lit up the night sky for a moment and then disappeared in a flash. I was jealous of her beauty.
3
In the blink of an eye, I reached the age of graduation, and the fact that I had become an adult was not a kind of fulfillment or graduation for me. At that time, I had thought that my teenage years should continue forever, but the eagerness to grow up and become an adult prevented me from doing so.
School, the stupid organization that forces us to spend most of the day here, forces us to choose our friends among a limited number of dozens of classmates. And then there were the teachers who took the same teaching notes every year and made the same jokes using a certain part of the textbook. I rejected the grotesquely anxious air of high school, the unspeakably marvelous and never wonderful atmosphere, but at the same time I loved something that was scattered in it.
During graduation season, I don't feel any sadness whatsoever, so I feel a little guilty. But the campus overflowed the kind of illusory, unreal, light pink color of the parting of the sentimental but let me feel confused and uneasy.
The year I graduated was the school's 50th anniversary, and when I learned that a grand fireworks display would be held at the graduation party, my body trembled again. The second meeting with her that I had been waiting for finally came. I spent the last month of high school in the marvelous mood of a misanthropic, terminally ill person. Thoughts of teenage Werther gripped me-behavior depended solely on feelings. I looked forward to meeting her as Viktor did to Greenie, and I imagine that my faraway dream girl of an illusory nature did the same.
If I were to express my love for fireworks, it would be in the form of a true, frank, unadorned, unadorned, sentimental lyric. I would like to use the world's most beautiful words to praise her, to please her, but I clearly understand that this is meaningless. My relationship with Fireworks was like light and shadow, unreal and unrealistic, not to mention dishonest. But I felt at the same time that we were real, interactive, changing, and complex. In the end, I was as trapped in the emotional muck as Viktor.
As graduation approached, I became more and more intolerant of the meandering school. Whether it's the wilting sycamores at the entrance to the school, or the yellow, muddy gardenias on the playground beds, I'm all against it. Rebellion and sensitivity like the shell of an insect pupa wrapped me tightly and airtight. Thirsty graduation expectations and the coveting of fireworks cheered me up.
But with the passage of time, that coveting and joy did not continue to deepen, from which another mood came out to fight it. This force is: after meeting with the fireworks, that empty, withered state of mind. That widespread grief was a suffering that I must not be able to bear. And then these two marvelous states of mind intertwined with each other, creating a strange and sickly balance.
There was a time when I was searching for a way to turn the moment of the fireworks' brilliant bloom into an eternity, to leave it behind forever. But as my imagination deepened, I grew to feel a pang of trepidation, and I felt that a ghastly and dangerous fruit would vaguely be birthed along with it. I could not wait to pluck that seedling.
Obviously, eventually that strange balance was upset. The graduation party was close at hand, and I dreaded its arrival. I resisted the fireworks and the graduation, both of which I had been looking forward to for a long time, but I stubbornly believed that I would inevitably suffer great sorrow in their aftermath.
I loathe her beauty. If I could, I would denigrate her beauty with the ugliest and filthiest and foulest words in the world, and I presumed to drive her away in this way. But I know very well that both her beauty and the party is like the majestic sun that rises in the morning east, is unshakeable.
The graduation party is coming, I have tried to escape it, but I know that the meeting with the fireworks is destiny, since she came, I must go to see. It was like when a beloved first love of yesteryear comes to meet him after all the trouble, a man can't - and can't - refuse.
The day of the graduation party finally came. If before I was a misanthropic terminally ill like a marvelous mood to spend, then now I am a soon-to-be-executed prisoner with infinite attachment to life. I was confused, uneasy, and fearful. I look to the sky, the bright and spacious green sky makes me dizzy.
At sunset, it was suddenly cloudy and rainy, and the sky, locked in dense clouds, was low near the top of my head. The crowd on the playground is restless, the host of the party with the microphone through the poor quality speakers that do not rule out the possibility of canceling the party, from the dull living like a coffin-like black box issued by the dreary sound, but I feel so beautiful and beautiful. This sudden change of weather made me feel as if I had been amnestied.
The heavy rain fell without interruption, without boundaries, everywhere. The rain that fell on my face was the same as the rain that fell on top of the withered leaves of the sycamores in the distance, and on the dirty gardenias in the flower beds. Oh yes, how the clear rainwater even the unclean petals were swept clean, right?
I sneaked alone to the eaves of the school fence. I lit a cigarette, greedily sucked a mouthful of this cigarette held high, as if holding up a medal of honor, eyes seem to open and close, the smoke rose, if there is a similar cohesion into a ball, I excitedly looked at a green smoke flowing into the rain in the dark sky.
My head dizzy, looking at the hazy sky more make me dizzy, can only hold the wet concrete wall hard to stand. In a daze, I saw the dark clouds in the sky faded, the bright moonlight like fireworks like splendor. I opened my mouth and poured out all the tiredness in my body at once.