1. What has two endpoints is a line segment.
What has one endpoint is a ray.
Lines have no endpoints.
Qi Ming and Yi Yao are like lines put out by the same endpoint, but facing different directions. And so they got farther and farther away. More and more distant.
Each day became more different from the one before. Life is written in two versions, scribbled and neat. The colors are faded by time. Unrecognizable.
2. Every life is like a full and sweet fruit. It is just that some of them have been worn out too early, revealing the wrinkled and hard core inside.
3. In every girl's life, there is such a boy. He does not belong to love, nor is he his boyfriend. However, there must be a place for him within the closest distance from oneself. When you see something beautiful, you can't help but show it to him. When I hear a good song, I can't help but copy it from my MP3 and give it to him. When I see a beautiful notebook, I can't help but buy two copies and give him another one to use, even though he won't like the pink strawberries. When you want to cry, you will be the first one to text him. When you have a fight with your boyfriend, he's the first one you'll turn to. Even though there was no telling when he would disappear from his life and become a prince to another girl who would become a princess because of him. But, in the times when he still stayed within the closest distance to him, every girl, with all her might, consumed him and everything he brought with him.
Every girl was becoming gentle, beautiful, and thoughtful in such a boy.
Even though the perfect version of herself afterward is no longer related to this boy.
But such a relationship will always exist beyond love.
4. The blood cannot return to the heart.
The body floats in mid-air like it is deprived of oxygen. Can't fall. Can't land on the ground with feet on the ground. All the joints were bolted with shiny silver strings, and like a puppet the joints were being pulled, zombie-like, opening and closing, walking forward on the street.
Tears kept flowing from her eyes, as if someone had flicked a switch to activate them, and she couldn't stop. As if all the moisture in the body was flowing clean in the form of tears.
5. Qiming you are too good to me, so good that sometimes I take everything you do for granted. It's possible that one day you'll be able to take your heart out and put it in front of me, and I'll feel nothing, and maybe I'll even step on it a few times. Qiming, don't be so nice to me. Women are like that. If you treat her well, your feelings will be cheap. Really. Women are just cheap.
6. There are more sad things? Why don't you just come along for the ride.
This time, not even tears can flow. The eye sockets are like dry holes. I can't wait to rub a ball of snow into it, turn it into water, and let it flow out to disguise as sadness.
Yi Yao stood still, anger taking root at her feet. Those fantasies of tenderness towards her father that had been stored up in her heart were now shattered into eleven million pieces of broken pieces. Like breaking a glass, all the shards of debris clogged up in the sewer opening, unable to discharge, they came tumbling up together with a violent fishy stench.
It stank.
Rotten.
Those emotions inside.
Turned to hate. Turned into pain. Turned into aggression. Turned into dense, thorny vines that pierced every cell of the heart, devouring the torso clean like cordyceps.
7. The airplane flashed brightly. Slowly fading to the edge of the sky.
Even breathing became heavy in the darkness. One by one, the air hostesses turned off the yellow reading lights overhead. The night flights are asleep in a world of pallor. Inside is decorated with all kinds of exquisite maze. It doesn't matter if you are alone or lonely.
It is simply a matter of flying to the same faraway place at night with different things on your mind.
In fact, how I would like to be like that, lonely and flickering with bright lights, flying alone and lonely through that dark night sky.
Flying to a place where no one can find it, whether drowned by the weeds or covered by the sound of the tide or blown away by the wind and sand of the young appearance.
Can it be like this. Let me be thrown into nothingness by time in a world no one knows.
8. In the darkness, the limbs and bones seem to be immersed in hot bath water. Those emotions called sadness, like swarms of ants, came from far away and slowly crawled up their bodies.
Step by step, they crawled towards the deepest beating heart.
Until the leader of the group, climbed to the very top of the heart, and then thrust the flag towards the soft beating place at his feet -
Ha, occupation.
9The winter sun, even at midday, does not descend vertically like the summer sun, condensing one's shadow into a heavy black spot of ink. The winter sunlight, at midday, slants in through the windows, taking the shape of the windows and drawing a narrower rectangular patch of light across the cafeteria floor.
Winter's noon feels like summer's dusk, vague and sadly beautiful
10. I used to think that words like lonely or loneliness were always associated with sadness. But in fact, just like now such a quiet afternoon, the campus is only left in twos and threes students, the sunset fuzzy light like water in every inch of the ground and walls smeared to and fro. Coating it with a furry thickness that diminished the cold and sharpness of most of the day.
Empty loneliness, or desolate loneliness, words like that are actually a lot warmer than noisy crowds and a wide variety of mouths to feed, aren't they?
11. Some flowers turn to wilted powder in the cold of winter.
People will witness such a seemingly slow but infinitely swift process. From the first beautiful fragrance and freshness of the flower, then it turns into wilted and scattered petals, and then finally into dust that is trampled on.
People will forget the beauty of what was once there, and then without any pain, trample over those bright colors that bloomed in the wind in the beginning.
12. If you look back at the scene of that day many years later. Will definitely feel sad.
In the evening of the last remaining rays of the winter sunset, surrounded by gray dust gathered.
The teenager and the young girl, standing at the gray school entrance in the twilight, the four of them, crossing various glances with each other.
Sad. Heartbroken. Compassionate. Sympathy. Adoration.
Like dyes of various colors being poured into the air, stirred and eventually turned into a dark chaos. In the space that cannot be named, frying and boiling and steaming with an intense vapor, covering every window of youth with a gritty haze.
But the colors are swallowed up by the heavy winter, or some mood in winter. Only black, or white, or black and white superimposed on the various gray, was left to be topped on the paper.
Like a black-and-white photo that has been placed in a frame, no matter how brightly the person in the photo smiles, the sadness is sure to be seen.
It was as if the shutter had been pressed by an unseen hand, and there was a click.
After and many years later---
Sinking and floating in the eyes is the area in the memories that is as forbidden as a thunderbolt that never dare to be touched again. One's physical senses are always late to the party long after the spiritual ones have arrived.
It is like the relationship between light and sound. One must have seen a sudden flash of light in the sky early and then connected
a few seconds of silence before a loud clap of thunder suddenly exploded in the earholes.
In the same way, physical sensations never come as quickly and dramatically as mental ones.
It must have stung the heart y already before tears welled up and choked the throat.
The sky was crowded and rolling with dark, reddish clouds. The light of the setting sun faded away.
Ten minutes ago, a variety of emotions in the body wandering rushing, like unable to find the exit and anxious monster, every
pores are sealed by transparent tape, the whole body is infinite inflated, almost to explode.
And in an instant, all the emotions vanished cleanly, leaving not even a trace of residue.
And in the next moment what came rushing in, was the cold that had no power to fight back.
The wet clothes were wrapped tightly around his body like a layer of ice.
Dark clouds rolled in and swallowed the last of the light.
13. Seeds sent carelessly by the wind.
Dropped on the heart.
Kept sleeping. Sleeping.
But, surely, at some opportune moment, it will awaken in an instant. In less than one-thousandth of a second, it quickly breaks through the shell, puts down a huge root system, and then shakes again, and then brushes out the dense branches and fat leaves that cover the sky.
Then, in slow-motion, the bloody disk of flowers opened up.
Seeds like these. Always sleeping in every heart.
Waiting for the day when the sealing spell would be lifted by something that could not be defined in words.
14. also don't quite remember what they said about people's dreams being colorless or soundless.
If it's colorless then ----
Our own dreams clearly often show that spherical symbol of the seven-colored bar that appears at the end of all TV shows late at night. That is to say, I often dream that I watch TV late into the night, until the whole world goes to sleep, and even the TV sets make this symbol to tell you that I'm going to rest.
And if there is no sound,----
Our own dreams often appear in the classroom textbooks were countless hands when the clattering sound, the window of the cicadas by the overhead fan turn broken knock, sparse hit the eyelids, intermittent, never-ending. In the air is the heat that keeps evaporating from the next day. It was so stuffy. Even the blackboard seemed to be growing a layer of grayish-white spots in this humid and hot weather. The duty student always complained after class. Then they waved the blackboard eraser harder. That brush, brush, brush sound.
There was also the sound of crying of unknown origin. Sometimes it's choking. Sometimes it's a whimper. Sometimes it's a sob. Sometimes it's a sob. And then day by day, it turns into a cry.
15. The whole quiet corridor.
Disappearance of sound. The temperature disappeared. Gone is the light. Gone are the faces and movements of the onlookers. Time becomes a slow-moving river here. The river is so viscous that it is almost impossible to flow. And the smell and steam that permeated the river like sulfur.
The corridor slowly turns into a huge tunnel-like cavern.
The cave that connects to nowhere
16. Sometimes you will somehow trust someone you don't know well. You'll tell him many, many things, even things you haven't told even the best deadbeat you've ever been around.
Sometimes you somehow don't trust someone you've spent so much time with, even if you've shared and guarded countless secrets together, but at times like that, you look at his face and you don't trust him.
We live in such a complex world, pulled blindly towards the end of the world by things that never repeat and have no rules like pi.
There was a time when you believed me to be that dirty and unsavory.
Just as he once believed I was a cheap bitch.
That's how I live in a world as complex and unpredictable as pi.
Slowly going through my life.
In fact, many times I never even believed it myself.
Spring spurs all the seeds to sprout from the soil. In fact what is about to break through the soil are many, many things we never thought we'd see.
They move out of our sight, but are y rooted in the center of our world.
17. All sound, with the help of a medium spreads farther away. Solids, liquids, gases, every moment is transmitted a variety of repeated and jumbled sound waves. Sighs, birdsong, the ticking of a sprinkler, the class bell, the sound of flowers blooming and wilting, the sound of a tree sawing down with a loud bang, the sound of waves lapping into the ear.
Physics class once taught that there was no air on the moon, so there was no way for even sound to travel. Whether it was a small stone kicked away, or a meteorite hit the surface of the moon smashed out a huge crater, flying sand and rocks, the ground cracked the sky, everything remained a silent silent picture. Like a television set that has been muted late at night, it is blank but quiet.
If there were two people living on the moon, they would not be able to hear each other's voices even if they were facing each other. Do they open their mouths in vain, or do they keep gesturing sadly with sign language?
Actually, I understand all such feelings.
Because I, too, once cried out from a place very, very close to you.
Then you were in my shouting, in the direction of the front, slowly away from me.
It's also because there's no medium.
The medium that connects us. The medium that could carry my voice, into your body.
18. A river of sadness slowly flows in the darkness. Drowning all the youth and time that did not have time to escape.
You could have escaped far away.
But you all stayed here, any water churning high until it poured down over your heads.
Along with sound and light, there was no time to escape this great long river of sorrow.
The vast expanse of black water reflected an eerie white light. Slowly it swelled. The moon tugged at the great tides.
Will the whole world be slowly swallowed like this because it is too late to resist?
19. In fact, there is nothing in this world that can definitely hurt you.
As long as you are cold enough, indifferent enough, enough to all things become no longer care. As long as you take your time and polish your heart into a smooth, hard stone.
As long as you treat yourself as if you were already dead.
Then, in this world, nothing can hurt you anymore.
Don't want to feel so much pain from others anymore. Then stop giving so much love to others.
Sentences like these would have been so disgusting that stomach acid would have bubbled up if it had been my former self who had seen them on TV or in a novel. But when it all turns into a tangible entity, slowly enveloping your whole body like a thick fog, you will feel that these have become supreme words, shining with a cruel and calm light.
20. A world that was once as wrong as a chessboard of reveries.
Rivers, lakes, oceans, deserts, mountains and rivers are spread out like chess pieces on the same horizontal plane.
And you just gently reached out your hand and shook it at the distant end of the world. So the whole chessboard flipped and tilted towards that side. All the rivers and lakes, together with the sea, all the tides rushed toward the sky like mad. What was once an ocean became a deep canyon, and what was once a desert mountain was covered with boundless waters.
And now, this is the world that has been chosen and redefined.
Since you made the choice.
Since you put your hand on another distant part of the world.
21. - What is the relationship to be defined? Love? Friendship?
--It's just when someone exists in your life, near and dear to you. She will never be cherished, she will never be loved, she will always live in a world of pain, in an air of ostracism and ridicule. She too would turn her face away in heartache at the sight of other girls being pampered by their parents and taken care of by their boyfriends. She also wished she had never come to this world when her mother cursed her, "Why don't you go to hell? She'll want to wear nice clothes, have lots of friends to care about, and have nice boys to crush on. She would have wanted her mother to bring in a bowl of hot soup late at night instead of diving headfirst into the kitchen every day after school to make dinner. She would also want to be the flower that is held in her hands instead of being treated like dust that can be trampled on.
-When such a person lives close to you all the time, when such a person mirrors your happy life and lives a completely opposite life to become a comparison, the more she endures all this in silence, the less you are able to pull out of it.
--You won't be able to resist the urge to wipe away her tears, you'll want to buy lots and lots of gifts and stuff them into her arms, you'll feel the same heartache when she's beaten and crying, and you'll become defiant when she asks you for help because you want to see her smile happily, even if it's just once. Even once, smile happily. Or maybe you don't need to ask for a smile, just as long as you can lift your hand to dry your tears and stop crying.
--When you were a child, you saw her being shut out by her mother and not being allowed to eat, you wanted to quietly bring her home so she could have something to eat with herself, but your mother angrily invited her out of the house. You secretly handed out a steamed bun from the window, and then saw her break into tears, took the steamed bun happy bite up, but only a bite, her mother rushed out of the house a raised hand to the steamed buns down on the ground and then even threw her two slaps, you saw her looking at the ground steamed buns pursed lips but did not cry out, only the eyes filled with heavy tears.
--You also saw her suddenly rushed out of the house crying and running away, because she was too young and stumbled and fell on the ground, around the women in the alley did not go to hold her up, but in her surroundings to show the gloating sneer, and then she stood up, there was a chase out of Lin Huafeng pulling his hair, pulling back to shake two slaps. Pulling back to shake two more slaps.
--At a much younger age you saw her one day chase her father, who was leaving the alley with a suitcase, to the door, where he pushed her out of the way and slammed the car door and left without looking back. She sat on the side of the road and cried until dark. When she came home after dark, the door was closed and her mother wouldn't let her in. She slapped the door and cried, begging her mother to let her in and not to leave her behind.
--As she grew up she learned to love people righteously, but did not meet a good man. When she went looking for the man with her baby, she saw him in a room with another woman, in love as a couple.
--You grew up with her as you watched her struggle to survive through the cracks.
--You can't wait to pull out your all to give it to her, to stuff it, to throw it at her, even if she doesn't want it.
--Such that it was like she was in a black vortex of quicksand, everything around her clamoring to be sucked into the cavern. She was caught in such a vortex. Reaching out a hand to pull her, one could only sink in along with it. And if you let go of your hand, you'll be able to stand firmly on your own. That was how it felt.
--That's how it feels to stand on the edge of the vortex and watch her being sucked in day by day.
--Even when one day, she had been completely swallowed up by the black vortex, along with herself, who had become that giant black vortex.
-- So much that she wanted to run far away. Escape from this unforgiving desert of swirling quicksand.
22.Life is full of such sad metaphors.
As once you and I walked together, every morning, towards the exit from which the light came.
As now he carries me, slowly leaving that you whom I abandoned in the darkness. In fact, as the bicycle wheel rolled round and round slowly taking me gradually away from you, I really felt the feeling of being abandoned by the familiar world little by little.
As that world gave up on me, I also slowly let go.
Never again will there be mornings like that.
23.Though it has been soaked in the solution of time that it has lost all the details that should be intact, it still leaves a certain part that is y rooted and stubbornly survives in the heart.
Blood flows through that place every day, and then back throughout the body.
There didn't seem to be any way to find a path back.
It was as if once the little girl in the fairy tale had sprinkled breadcrumbs along the path and then braved the dimly lit forest. But when she started to get lonely and scared, she looked back and realized that the crumbs she had dropped had been pecked clean by the birds of prey that came and went.
It was also her own hands that had raised such a gluttonous flock of birds of prey.
So one day, retribution generally devoured one's path back.
24. In fact, a lot of things that we seem to be unable to knot or incredible, are not as complicated or incredible as we think.
Like when we were kids, we couldn't comprehend that those disgusting caterpillars were the beautiful butterflies when they were "kids".
In fact, there is nothing incomprehensible, those bugs wrapped themselves in layers of opaque cocoons, and then gradually changed day by day, and finally became colorful butterflies.
In fact, even after turning into a butterfly, it can trigger even more incredible things to come. For example, it vibrates its wings on the other side of the ocean, which randomly generates storms.
25. Countless doors are opened and closed every minute in this world. Light rushes in, then is casually concealed seconds later.
Different people live in different worlds. Red. Blue ones. Green ones. White ones. The yellow. Even the pink world.
Why are you the only one living in a black world.