I fixed my eyes on the tree—it grew in this corner of the campus near the playground. It is surrounded by square white marble, silently housed in less than a square meter of soil.

Winter has arrived, and the leaves of this tree have already fallen.

Four or five thin, hard black branches were pulled out of the bare torso, and under the baptism of the bitter cold, the branches were dotted with white spots here and there, and a bunch of unknown red grass was entwined under the root system, caring for the depths of its soul. Years ago, the tree might have been standing here.

It struggled to straighten its frosty, scarred-strewn body toward the nerve-piercing, cold-piercing wind, sometimes shivering, sometimes bending.

Even if no one pays attention to it, no one understands, it always stretches its branches out into the sky, as if shouting, "Come, come!" and as if roaring at the wind demon: "I will not give in." ”

It's lonely, isn't it? Just as lonely as I am.

It's a pity it won't move, otherwise, I'd have to let it walk with me on the long trail—it speaks my mind.

Yes, the tree understands my heart, and I understand its heart, and in the deep conversation between man and tree, tree and man, soul and soul, I gently touch its skin, and it gently rubs my skin.

I said, "You're so cold." ”

It says, "You're cool. ”

So I laughed, and it looked at me and smiled. However, the smile flashed.

We looked at each other. I said, "You are not like a tree, but like a shadow of me." ”

It was silent for a moment, as if to ponder the words, and said, "You are not like a man, but like a god." “

"Where am I like God? I'm just a wretched worm cowering in the shadows. I smiled.

"No, you are God, because God is a lonely thing. It said.

"So what should God do?" I asked.

"Follow me. The tree shook its leafless branches, "One day, you will be detached." ”

Detached from what? I thought—

I don't want my friends or good classmates to be separated from each other and turn into netizens who don't get along with each other.

It's really brutal. There may be people who don't care at all. They quickly discard the memories of old classmates who had become friends and were able to integrate happily and quickly into the new group.

When the new group disbanded again and went their separate ways, they threw it away, or deleted it directly from their QQ friends, or left it aside, and then ignored it. Soon after, they joined the new group with great hope......

For such people, I can only give one word: heartless, no lungs.

Yan and Shu deleted me.

I probably know why they deleted me. One of my over-the-top remarks made them feel dissatisfied. It was about mourning the death of the mother of one of our classmates, and there I criticized all of them in a way that was a bit more aggressive.

Because they didn't have anyone to encourage that classmate, they didn't have that so-called warm picture.

In the warm class in my mind, a classmate's mother died, and the scene should be like this: everyone consciously lined up in several lines, walked up to him one by one, and said to him, I am sorry for hearing this news, I hope you can cheer up, we are your best painkiller!

— and they do what they do without saying a word, and they do their own thing. This seems to be an invisible respect, in order not to reveal the scars of that classmate.

Actually, it's a pretty ridiculous psychology. You think it's a sign of respect for her, but what about the essence? It's still a kind of indifference, but it just puts a high-sounding hat on this indifference, and has a reason to ignore it.

I said, if we didn't choose to ignore it, but instead used the kind of method I imagined, how would that classmate react?

Likely to cry. That's right, because we lifted his scars. But what's the matter? Because the scar is not painful, what he feels is not pain, but the warmth that comes from his classmates, which is warmth, that is moving, not as painful as you imagine.

I've been ignored like that. I was insulted, insulted, and ridiculed every day. But none of the classmates in the class stood up to help me and say a fair word.

Does anyone know what I'm feeling? Cold, boundless cold. In my eyes, none of them are good.

So I was disgusted with this cold vibe, and I'm honored that I ran into it again.

So I'm really angry, I've never been so angry, I should say, I haven't been angry in a long time.

So I criticized them, saying that it was criticism, but rather that it was scolding. However, I soon realized that this was too conspicuous, too disobedient, too presumptuous. I had no choice but to delete the remarks.

Later I also calmed down. But Yan and Shu can never be added back. They all seemed to block me.

Maybe they never saw me as a friend in their hearts, maybe I was just an ordinary classmate, a classmate who could be forgotten at any time.

In that case, what can I do? I can only keep this memory in the dust in the back of my mind, and I even planned to keep the bookmark that Yan gave me forever, and then I will suddenly take it out when she is almost forgotten years later, and think about that time.

Well, now that all of this makes no sense. But I'm still not going to throw away the bookmarks. It is sinless. Yan is also innocent.

I'm probably the only one to blame.

I don't blame them. This is perhaps the most immediate, painful and normal reaction of every human being to an unexpected and heart-shaking event, so they are not doing anything wrong, on the contrary, they are quite right. Only those who are impulsive are bloody people, and they are hot people, and I only want to be worthy of my heart.

But that night, I stayed for a long time, as if I couldn't believe it. I flipped through my high school classmates over and over again, but I couldn't see those two familiar avatars. I ended up crying five times. I'm afraid no one believes it, no one imagines how I cried.

Crying silently, I finally let out the fifth time...... Hoarse and low, like the whimper of an old wolf dying in the twilight.

This situation is actually a quarrel between a rebellious child and indifference, and I just wrote it down on paper.

I figured it out. No matter how the world changes, there will never be the scene full of positive energy and warmth that I imagined.

Because it is ubiquitous and invisible, no one discovers this unspoken rule, and almost everyone is blinded and thinks that they have done enough and are spiritually satisfied.

In fact, this mentality is hopeless. But I still grabbed it and pulled it out in my dying throes - the coldness made me vaguely aware of its essence.

I finally peeled off its layers, broke the mirrors that had been disguised as noble and natural by darkness, and through the membrane, I opened my eyes, my eyes widened and bloodshot.

A face gradually became clearer:

Weak meat, strong food.

Diary of December 27, 2015