0 1.
I really knew this town in high school.
At that time, apart from attending classes and reading novels, what impressed me the most was that there was a three-pronged cement road to the right when I left the school. One road goes along the school and the other goes downhill to the east. The roads are lined with cherry blossoms. In spring and summer, a tree is flourishing. The one that winds to the west has uneven steps at the interface, and the uneven stone steps leave traces of years of polishing. Walking along it, you can see the river that runs through the county seat. The river is not wide, and the rushing river in the grass gives the town a little aura.
Hongqiao connects the two banks of the river.
On the other side of the river, there is a noisy world.
There are stalls on both sides and in the middle of the street, where vendors witness the cycle of the four seasons and make a living in their own stable years. They packed up fresh vegetables, sprinkled water on green peppers and celery, purple eggplant, Chinese cabbage and bright red tomatoes, and piled potatoes, sweet potatoes, beans and pumpkins on food stalls paved with simple boards. There is fresh pork on the tricycle, and the chef selling pork wears a black or blue apron, chatting with others and dealing with customers.
Adjacent to the farmers' market, there is a luxurious lacquer arch with black mesh hanging above the street. Below are stalls made of stone piers, dazzling small commodities and a whole bundle of brightly colored cloth, which make the life in this street look lively and fragrant.
There is a Little Square behind the town center, and the streets around the square are simply named after their locations-West Street, Nanxin Street and Donggang; Some also highlight place names, such as Wujiaquan, Tangba and Erdaohe. However, there are hardly any bus routes. People ride bicycles and then ride motorcycles through the streets. If you walk, maybe you can run the whole city in about twenty minutes. What is lively is near the bus station, where people from south to north start and return. When I left, my bags were full of longing and fantasy for the distance; After I came back, I turned my hard work and sweat into gifts, packed them and brought them to my family.
It is so thin, backward and remote, just like an introverted lonely patient, emitting cold loneliness in the noise.
But even so, maybe I still feel inferior. I have never outlined the future, and I have never thought about what kind of prosperous world I will come into contact with when I go out.
In my eyes, the vast desert in Chinese textbooks and the poetic Jiangnan with lotus leaves are equal to the formula theorems of mathematics and physics. They are just abstract knowledge and conceptual symbols, and they have not materialized into a kind of life, or formed a temptation, which can make me look forward to chasing.
I live in my own small world and never fantasize about tomorrow.
02.
Like fate, I finally returned to work and live in this small town.
At the beginning, the house that the family saved money to buy has been demolished, and a high-rise building has been built on the old site. The town has been enlarged. The road has been widened and there are bus lines leading to different directions. Advertisements for brand tourism are known from the provincial capital to the capital. The vegetable market that once stood in the middle of the street was re-planned and moved outside the city, and the management was standardized and orderly. The farmer's market disappeared, and various shops, brand stores or colorful or literary personality followed, bringing fashion elements and injecting fresh blood into the town.
As night falls, rows of high-rise buildings are full of lights and traffic is woven. Neon lights flash, people exchange ideas in the night, release pressure and indulge in it. In a trance, it seems that I once again have the great ambition of that year and ignited the fighting spirit of life in pushing a cup for a change.
Bridges have been rebuilt on the trimmed river, and different forms of lamp posts are colorful. The evening breeze blows, the weeping willows on the two dikes sway with the wind, and the people who rest in the evening sing the local flower drum opera and immerse themselves in the joy of self-entertainment. Some are dancing in the square dance with great interest, dancing with the rhythm and love for life. Others accompanied or went to Beihuan Avenue and Tianlu Mountain Villa alone to talk about their parents' shortcomings, filter the residue of life, interpret health with their footsteps and measure their lives. ...
Brand-new towns are becoming more and more beautiful, and every transformation calls for more and more migrant workers to return home to start businesses. They returned to their hometown from far away. That small town, like all the rural cities in the north and south of China, you can't even find its coordinates on the map. But it began to flourish.
At that time, the young and ignorant girl was dragged forward in her life and work, and became one of the thousands of soldiers in Qian Qian, clinging to her loneliness day after day in trivial matters. Regular work kills blood and passion, and trivial daily life makes the face aging. Dreaming of kindness and gentleness, I want to remain elegant, but the sudden events in my life always take off my veil mercilessly, just like drinking poison to quench my thirst, but it is beyond redemption, leaving a feather on the ground.
I began to doubt the meaning of life. ...
03.
My imagination has been enriched as never before, and I began to fantasize about distant places countless times.
There is a blue rolling sea here, and the golden soft beach is bathed in the warmth of the sun. The vast jungle with towering peaks is innocent, and the exotic animals and birds that are lively and jumping make people happy and excited. There are endless grasslands, and patches of rape flowers spread to Qinghai Lake. Looking up, you can see the snow-capped mountains in the distance. Or go to see the towering ancient trees, Pinghu Waterfall, colorful Jiuzhai Paradise, as well as blue bricks and green tiles and ink painting in the south of the Yangtze River. With the enduring pace of life, it will certainly soothe and comfort this restless soul. Finally, take the green leather train to enjoy a slow life and go to Potala Palace to complete your spiritual worship. ...
Escape is better than fantasy.
In the trivial life, I fled again and again. Escape from its imprisonment and shackles, in my fantasy, I was busy breaking out of prison countless times.
04.
How many people are like me?
Someone said, "Memories, like expectations, are tools to simplify and edit reality. Now life is like a long film intertwined, and our memories and expectations are just to choose a wonderful picture. "
Time goes around the clock and never stops for anyone. We are expanding ourselves more and more in the material world, expanding our unfathomable desires at will. In a world of mud and sand, we put on all kinds of masks in a panic, ignoring the appropriateness. The scenery in front of people is infinite, and most of the anxiety, panic, loneliness and helplessness behind people are silently digested by themselves.
Everyone has his own unspeakable joys and sorrows.
We take root in familiar places, but we don't like to nourish our barren soil. From life and death to parting, most of us have been passivated, and we have to sort out our feelings and pack our bags in compromise and unwillingness.
In the wish of "May you walk for half your life and come back as a teenager", we trudged between thousands of waters in Qian Shan, and finally no one left.
In the process of resisting life, we must learn to live in peace with life.
It smoothed our edges and corners, and we accepted its Vientiane. Far away, it has unconsciously penetrated into every detail of life. All the time.
The joys and sorrows of the rest of my life are tied to such a small town.
Where you live, you love.
When I went to work the next day, in the foggy morning, the moist breath came to my face, far like gauze, similar to freehand brushwork.
Under the street lamp for the night, the road surface that has just rained is slightly slippery, and there are vaguely footprints of students getting up early in a hurry, or the footsteps of rushing to exercise, the traces of wheels running over, and the smell of freshly cooked steamed bread, which makes people seem to be able to see the water vapor around the steamer. The oil pan set up at the street corner rolled, and two old men with gray hair and long chopsticks skillfully fished the fried fritters into the big round basin next to them and stood in front of passers-by who stopped occasionally.
The picture in front of us is so rich and three-dimensional, which is the background and appearance of our life ... The city has quietly opened the curtain of a new day in this morning market.