On May 29th, it was cloudy, and the weather forecast turned from light rain to cloudy. I have been waiting for the rain to fall. Half a day passed without seeing its shadow. Although I don’t like rainy days, but after seeing the sun for a long time, I will also feel irritable, especially in the hot summer sun. Running in the rain, experience the carefree feeling of rain brushing your cheeks.
A weekend alone. After eating at noon, I closed the curtains and turned on the radio. It was still my favorite frequency, Music radio. Now it was the Sunday special column “Music New Classics”. The drapes, blown in through the slits in the drapes, are extra cozy. A familiar guitar melody, “Hotel California” by the Eagles, sounded in my ears. How can such a beautiful afternoon be without books?
So, I sat up and leaned against the soft summer quilt to pick up the book, Zhang Ailing’s “Red Rose and White Rose”, with a hard cover, making people look at the comfortable paper. “Perhaps every man has had two women like this, at least two. Marry a red rose, and over time, the red one becomes a smear of mosquito blood on the wall, and the white one is still the moonlight in front of the bed.” The white one is a grain of rice on the clothes, and the red one is a cinnabar mole on the heart. “Zhang Ailing said this. After experiencing vigorous love, I can finally understand Zhang Ailing’s true peace of mind when writing these sentences. Maybe people are not satisfied, men are like this, so what about women? I think of Eason Chan’s “Red Rose”, It sings like this in it, “Those who cannot get are always in turmoil, and those who are favored have no fear”, so brilliantly depicts the love-hate entanglement between getting and not getting in love.
Recently, I have been fascinated by Chai Jing’s writing, just like her person, there is amazing perseverance and courage hidden under the delicate appearance. I started to pay attention to her when I read a book when I was in college. It introduced a CCTV column called “News Investigation”. The title of the book is “News Investigation”. reporter. After reading this book, I only remembered a Linfen girl who seemed weak but always delivered amazing reports. Then, I began to search for all the news about her from the Internet. At that time, I only knew that Chai Jing was a reporter, a news fighter with a sense of justice and courage that few others had.
By chance, I read her “Using My Life to Forget”, and she wrote at the beginning, “August 2, 2000, in the afternoon. It was raining all over the mountains. The next record happened to be Matthew Lane’s ” Bressanon”. The voice is hoarse and desolate. The rain beats my heart. The sky is gray and blank, and people feel like they are in the wilderness of time. This moment is the beginning of a person without language, color, and thought.” The reason why it attracts me so easily , because “the moment when there is no language, no color, no thought at the beginning of a person” is something I often experience, just like me at this moment. Out of control, I fell in love with Chai Jing’s writing. At that time, she wrote articles and some essays for readers when she was hosting “Tender Night” at Hunan Literature and Art Radio Station, articles she published on blogs, and news reports she published. , all express thoughtful and critical words with gentle brushwork.
On such a weekend afternoon, in a room without light, a person is nestled on a big bed, lying or sitting, spreading his arms and legs, domineeringly occupying the entire space, and the songs in his memory are ringing in his ears, Cai Qin’s “Your Eyes”, Jiang Yuheng’s “Looking Back”, Peng Jiahui’s “Prisoner Bird”… one after another classic old songs, strongly shook my eardrums and memory, and moved my heart. And the wind blows in from time to time, biting my ears. There are only two little ones by my side, one on the left and one on the right quietly guarding me. Holding a book that can’t be thrown away, I have a feeling and write it down in time.
A moment in life that is as beautiful as this moment doesn’t happen often.
