After the training this afternoon, when I returned to my hotel room, I suddenly received a WeChat message from Yun, saying that she was getting married. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Eight years ago, in a self-study class, I thought about such a day. I was deserting at the time, she was looking down to do her homework, and I was quietly staring at her fair side face, and my ears were rustling with the rustle of classmates doing their homework. At that time, I felt that this was an incomparably distant thing, that the Beijing Olympics had not even been held, that she had not even studied in college! There was still enough time to grow up, and there was still enough time to pinch her face and see her puffed up cute appearance.

Until 18:53 today, in the city 1413 kilometers away from her, in a hotel called Hufang Building, room 712 under the orange light, I learned the news that she was about to get married.

It's been eight years, it's like a dream, that simple and beautiful time has been so far away, when did my life become like this?

The last year was at a low point in my life, and after I got sick last year, all of a sudden I became very bad in all aspects, like falling into a dark abyss, watching my beautiful youth pass quickly, leaving me who is getting older and older. Those former classmates, those girls who I liked and liked me, all got married, had children, and went to the next stage of life, but I was still left in place to watch their distant backs, more and more lonely, as if abandoned by the world.

It's been three months since I turned 25! My parents urged me to start a family quickly, I don't have a girlfriend yet, I want to write a good novel, and I will talk about it when I have a certain career foundation, but the novel has been interrupted for a long time, and most of the readers who have accumulated through hard work in the past few years have been lost, and they left disappointed with the scolding of me, and I have lived up to the expectations of readers and editors.

I thought I had a good rest this year, but in fact, I was very unstable and unsteady every day, and I subconsciously kept thinking about the novel, and I felt a sense of guilt in my soul, how do you deal with those readers who give you tips for breakfast? How do you deal with readers who insist on giving you recommendation votes every day, and even if you disappear for months, they are still waiting for you to come back? How do you deal with those editors who have cultivated you? The two editors of Black Tea and Qixi were so good to me, and before I could write a better work to repay them, they had already left. Several new editors are also very kind to me now, and have been asking me about my situation, and one of the editors was even a former reader of mine, and I especially liked the book, and I talked to me for a long time today, waiting for me to regain my strength, and I could feel their genuine concern, but I was still so confused.

I have tried to write again several times, to cheer myself up, to regain my strength, but I have not been able to find the original feeling of writing, I can't even read what I have written, my writing ability seems to have completely degraded, the more I write, the more irritable I become, and the confidence that I finally cheered up has dissipated again. In June, I gritted my teeth and opened a new book, wanting to write two books together, but it failed without any suspense, and the new book was revised many times, but it could not be brought back to life, so it was simply broken again, which made the reader even more angry, the situation worsened, the mood became more and more depressed, and the condition was more unfavorable, and the vicious circle continued.

In order to regain the feeling of writing, I signed up for the training of the starting point in the past few days. In fact, I had already attended one such training more than two years ago, and was probably the only one in this group of authors who had attended two trainings. The last time was in this hotel, but also in this conference room, the old place revisited, as if it was yesterday, but the original group of people has disappeared, they have gone to a farther and higher level, I am like a repeater, and this group of later newcomers started again.

I always thought that I was a post-90s generation and still young, but this time it was suddenly turned upside down. Many of these new authors are already post-95s, and I have always been accustomed to treating editors as elders, but this time I found that many editors are actually two years younger than me, and suddenly I am already the old man in this group.

Looking at these young authors, I feel like I saw myself a few years ago, even if they went out and flew to Shanghai from other provinces, they didn't forget to update the code words. Their novels may only be read by a few hundred people, but they still insist on writing, even if they go to an Internet café, they have to finish it, and they are persistent in fighting for their dreams. I used to be like this, staying up late to write at the cost of my health, and finally came to the door of success after a few years, only half a step away from stepping in, and I could even feel the light of honor projected from behind the door, but at the moment of kicking in the door, I suddenly fell, and fell back to the point of grabbing precious introductory training places with these later new authors.

Today's mood is very complicated, the events and emotions of these years are suddenly entangled, it is difficult for me to express it, when I was young, I was sentimental, any emotions are easy to express in the diary, sometimes I can write several diaries a day. But now it's rare to write a few articles a year. This diary has been written for several hours, and it is now two o'clock in the morning, and I can't stay up late because of my illness, and I have the most important class tomorrow, so I should have rested. But let me be willful again! I finally have a chance to touch my heart, this opportunity is extremely precious to me now, and I want to try to write it down before I become numb. When, years later, I have experienced the storms of life, achieved my dreams in life, stood at the height I expected to achieve, and was able to look at anything calmly, and then look back at the diary I wrote tonight, maybe I can feel more, just like I now look at the diary I wrote five years ago.

The night was already very deep, and the clouds had already fallen asleep! I wonder if you had ever dreamed of me? Reading her name, I suddenly remembered the poem that I liked very much, Brecht's "Remembering Marianne".

It was a blue September day,

I'm in the slender shadow of a plum tree,

Quietly hugged her.

My lover is so pale and silent,

It's like an eternal dream.

On our heads,

In the bright summer sky,

There is a cloud,

My eyes fixed on it for a long time.

It's white, it's high, it's far from us,

When I looked up again, it was gone.

Since that day, many moons have crept across the sky and set.

Those plum trees were probably cut down and burned for firewood.

And if you ask, what happened to that love?

I must admit, I can't really remember.

And yet I know what you're trying to say,

I don't know what her face looked like, I just know that I kissed her that day.

As for the kiss, I have long forgotten it, but the cloud that floated in the air, I still remember, and will never forget, that it was white and moved high in the air. The plum trees may still be blooming, the woman may have given birth to a seventh child, and the cloud has only appeared for a few minutes, and when I look up, it is gone.

People always say that growing up is what you wanted before, and you don't want now. And I think it's the opposite, growth is something that was easy to get before, and now it can't be obtained anymore.

Like that cloud, when I looked up again, she was gone.