A girl I know, wrote this sentence: life will always give you sweetness, you just stick out your tongue, licking the sweetness, always follow.
What is sweet, what is bitter, people are following the sweetness. No one lives to suffer. The question is, is it sweet now, or sweet in the future, is it sweet for a while, or is it sweet for a lifetime?
I like to read books since I was a child, I like to write. When I was eight years old, I was sick and lived in an isolation ward. My parents could only visit once a day. The patient in the next-door bed left a copy of “Heroes Chen Zhen”, and I read the dictionary while reading. Nine, or ten? In the textbooks, the beginning of the novel began to write novels, right, that is, martial arts novels, written in a dense manner.
At that time, the idea of relying on writing for a living was still a vague and unformed concept in my heart. One day, I read the advertisement of the art test in the newspaper, and went back to my mother and said, I want to test the art school. My mom is squatting on the floor to wash clothes. My parents are all workers in the factory. I have never heard of screaming art test and said that I will not go. I said, you let me go, you regret it for a while, don’t let me go, I will regret it for a lifetime. After I finished, my mother remembered this sentence. One day, my god told me secretly, let’s go, we agreed. But that day, the registration of the art test was over.
I was riding a school and the teacher was stupid. Finally, I took the number of sports students and stuffed them into the art test. The admission ticket number is the last one in the province.
I still remember that in the spring of that year, my dad gave us two thousand dollars, and said, let’s go to the spring tour. My mom took me to Nanjing. Before leaving, my life was the first time I could choose my own clothes. I chose a collar with an embroidered white shirt and a gray cardigan. When I was in the art test, I was dancing in the examination room, and I wrote it very well. My mother was in the wind and rain.
On the bus home, my mother said with tears, child, we can’t help you, my aunt is not capable. I am 18 years old, I am so bullish, I feel that I have a lot of skills, I said nothing, Mom, gold will shine everywhere.
I went to college as I wished, professional is a play, half read, didn’t want to read, and paranoid to go to the film school to learn movies. So I left Nanjing and went to Beijing alone. Now many children ask me how the writer’s employment situation is, how can I publish a book, how to sell the first script… I don’t seem to think about it at their age.
I just like to write, want to write, want to write well, want to write for a lifetime. The reason why I chose a major in the college entrance examination was to learn a second between Chinese and drama. I think that the creative freedom of the drama is greater. Chinese has to learn a lot of theories, I am afraid to tie myself to death. I want to go to Beijing because the movie is the first interesting thing in my life, I want to understand it. I want to soak in it, plunging it in, never coming out.
This is my decision to be 18 years old and 20 years old. I know almost nothing about society, and the information is not developed. This is instinct. I just want to go here and go on this road.
I know that this is what I really want and I am willing to pay for it, even if it seems to outsiders that these decisions are risky and absurd.
If you want to go, don’t be afraid to be yourself.
Every life has its roots and will be tied to places with water. Every life has leaves, and all know to go to the light and stretch in the wide. You feel interesting and passionate. This thing nourishes you and realizes you. In this thing, you feel happy. Many times, you can’t help but give it meaning. That thing is right, this is love.
Not afraid to choose your love, because love, you become your own, you are therefore different in the crowd. Everything in my life is brought to me by writing. I now have a house of my own, I am living in this world, I can support myself and my loved ones, and I live very well. No one can force me in my life. This is enough.
When I was a teenager, I saw a movie from Ubi Gothenburg. She said, “When you wake up in the morning, you only have something to write in your mind. You are a writer.”
I still believe this sentence now. I like to write, this is my core, the strongest thing in my body. A lot of life is not good, I still have a place to retreat, retreat to this land, retreat to my desk and retreat to my screen. In the dead of night, the slight white light reflected on my face, and the sound of tapping the keyboard was exceptionally crisp. This is the most beautiful voice in the world, happy and lonely. Going back to writing, a place I like to stay, I know it has been there forever. This is enough.
I like to write things. Writing makes me happy. My body likes writing, but it is definitely my finger favorite. When I didn’t write for a while, I started writing again. My fingers touched my keyboard gently. There was a big touch and happiness and peace of mind. My fingers are free to jump on the keyboard, they don’t go through my brain,
It’s all, those sentences, passing through me, like a wind, they passed through me and were written into words.
I put precious flowers on my desk. Next to the keyboard, there is a small altar. Bright oil lamp, beautiful paperweight, little witch, a woman holding bread, a cat bell… a little superstitious, I want to put all the good things here, like sacrifices, to give me the creation Force, my writing.
The last two sentences are for those who want to write that they dare not write and want to go. One sentence is: “It’s hard to do what you like, but it’s easier every year. It’s easy to do things you don’t like, but it’s harder every year.”
Some people often tell me that I want to write all about it. However, “writing is like driving at night. Your headlights can only illuminate the front two or three meters, but you can still open the whole journey safely.”
When people are alive, they don’t think about it all.
What do you choose to be your headlight?
What do you believe in, the light of the night?
I chose the one I liked, stumbling and rich.
If you want to go, you can.