Lonely Lonely
I once sat in the agenda hall of the parliament of Taibei, Congressmen were facing toward the microphone and roar with voice like wolf's dog, officers are struggling and explaining, the reporter's flash lamp glimmers and does not stop, the kendo of the language is overbearing on the decisive struggle field of politics, the knife is only brilliant. I look at it in the field, adjust the focus of one's own eyes, like magic, " swiftly " , discuss field retreat, go outside one hundred immediately, shrink, sound kill all, all open mouth, eyes, exaggerative posture that round stare at, pat to raise hand that blow desk, turn into a silent slow motion in a black-and-white film in a moment, get up slowly, fall slowly
I sit in storm in the center, but very deathly still all around, at this moment, lonely feeling, as the black dust all over the sky of the sandstorm, with ghosts and goblins' flow pace, surround permeating slightly.
I once lived in seclusion in the mountain villa in 30 days, the foot did not leave the family. Sit on the balcony recording the movement of the every minute and second when the setting sun goes down the hill every day and point which it touch with the arris of mountain while dropping. Sometimes, the bird getting lost flies into the room because of carelessness, pats wings and swarms into another bookshelf from a bookshelf, the fan looks for the outlet messily in alarm. On very moist day, I open the glass door of landing of the balcony wide greatly, stand in the middle of the sitting room, is guarding a cloud in the hilltop at a distance, is looking at this cloud, float, float from that side of the mountain peak slowly, cross the balcony, enter my sitting room in an all-round way, make me parcel inclusive, flow into each room, divide into small, waft, produce from different windows finally, return to the clouds and mists in the mountains.
The refrigerator is empty forever. The good friend goes up a hill and is visited, surmise automatically my refrigerator must be empty, always take some milk bread, like the volunteer of a social office visits the solitary old man. While really running out of food and fuel, I go out and take a walk at dusk, there is the peasant's field of vegetables by the path, the edible wild herbs of the longer path in field, revitalize and pull out several to go home at the same time, can boil the soup too.
The night sky in summer is very blue sometimes. I always see the Venus appear in the low latitude very near to the arris of mountain early, then the moon comes up. The wild wind is blowing the very high tree, the blade rustle bangs, the eagle stands in the tree-top, look at the open mountain valley calmly. I am thinking thinly and thinly, lonely, the state; Lonely, why the classification?
In the evening of December 31 one year, the friends occupied and met on my mountain, drank and chatted, at half past 11, everybody rise to their feet one after another, should rush to go down the hill, because old alternative that time in the year in New Year, must keep with the family, person. The friends still clean the wineglass bowl one showing consideration for before leaving away, it is started then a burst of car and horse, sound of the cold dog of deep lane. 5 minutes later, a poet wishes to speak but not to do so on a second thought on the telephone, mean from the way incoming telegram, everybody breaks up in a hubbub late evening, keeps me on the mountain alone, like He can not go on.
The friendship that I remember him with gratitude is gentle, remember one's own reply too: "My dear, do you think, must not two people be more lonely than a person? "
He has no language for the moment.
Quiet while sitting down, often think of bright Zhang Dai late, he writes the mid-lake pavilion:
In December of five years of Emperor Chongzhen, I live in the West Lake. The heavy snow is three days, middleman's bird's sound of lake is all unique. It is day, fix even more, a surplus small boat, the clothing stove fire of Cui gathers around, see the snow to the mid-lake pavilion alone. Unless rime big flood Dang, it and cloud, and mountain, and water,at leave white. Shade at the lake, only long dyke one mark, one o'clock such as mid-lake pavilion, with Yu Zhou one mustard, boat two 3 of middleman.
Going to the lake to see the heavy snow alone at night, he is obviously lonely unwittingly - -The loneliness may be a necessity of aesthetics. However, the country is defeated and the home lost, the personnel are not complete, as him when it is oneself that write epitaph?
Pieces of Mount Tai, people of Sichuan Province, pottery Buddhist nunnery number their even. It is a playboy to lack, like very much to be flourishing, so give up precisely, the so beautiful slave girl, good Luan is virgin, so delicious clothing, good table delicacies, good horse, good light, good firework, the good theatre, easy to advocate, the good antique, good birds and flowers, and concurrently cruel with tea and excessive tangerine, bookworm's poem evil spirit, half a lifetime of working hard, all become illusion.
Annual to 50, the country is defeated and the home lost, avoid the mark mountain to occupy. Persons who store, the broken bed breaks to pieces several, roll over the pot disease musical instrument and incomplete book and count the cloth slip-case for a book, lack one party of inkstones. The commoner dredges Lang, often to running out of food and fuel. Turned one's head 20 years ago, really separated for generation.
There is a kind of loneliness, add a person that can discuss at one's side, an intimate dog, perhaps can subdue. Have one loneliness, boundless and indistinct " Yu Zhou first mustard " under world There is whereabouts,perhaps it is be the each the lonely in the face of,practise Buddhism or Taoism faces plain.
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