Summer Night Rhapsody

  In the summer night, the call of the wild frogs wandering around the stone steps of the teaching building is very similar to the sound of an old monk knocking on a wooden fish, which can only be heard by people who dispel distractions. In other words, those who have gone through madness, torture, and sorrow, have their heads empty, only those who have the mind or leisure to hear and care.
  That night, it was windy and cool, and the moon was cold and starless. I sat on the plastic chair in the classroom seat and thought about something. The backrest of the plastic chair is very hard, and there is a slightly raised one in it, which is touching my shoulders, making me uncomfortable.
  I used a ballpoint pen to draw circles repeatedly on a thin sheet of work paper. At first, the force was lighter, and the circles I drew were fairly regular. The faster I reached the back, the pen core pierced the back of the paper and the ink stained. It was illuminated by the light from the top of the classroom on the desk.
  Some of these circles have become ellipses and squares, and some of them are indescribable. They overlap each other and form a swirling pattern, like a breathtaking mysterious hole, grabbing my sight tightly, not loosening at all.
  I like to do such meaningless things, especially when I am bored and bored. The matter of drawing circles is much simpler than others. It is a repetitive mechanical action, but the things drawn are difficult to sum up in one sentence, as if it contains all things in the world, which can take me away from reality and wander into unknown. The place. I seem to see an indescribable disease in myself, like a colony of ants gnawing on rotten wood, paralyzing my body, and it seems to be a kind of buffer and stagnation, making me tense to break and unwind. Get out from time to time, take off your defenses.
  I probably know the cause of my illness. At sunset, after dinner, the study committee collected the papers issued yesterday according to the teacher’s request. But when I arrived at my place, I didn’t get what I should have. I clearly remembered that after finishing the work, I put the paper into the drawer, but when I searched it, I couldn’t see it.
  Therefore, such a trivial matter can be the fuse for me to frown all day long, pull out all the unhappy and depressed worries in the near future, and sort them out one by one. All the emotions and feelings that have not had time to vent are piled up and lost. On this matter.
  The same table was reading the magazine next to me. He turned the pages very fast, so fast that I wondered if he could see clearly and understand the content of the previous page. When someone turned around to pick up something, they carelessly knocked down the pile of books. Twenty or thirty thick books fell to the ground, causing a tumult, so someone started to stop the buzzing whispers.
  Go deeper, or extend the limits of the space limit, and you can learn more things that you can’t notice in the ordinary day through the senses.
  For example, the occasional cicada chirping from outside the window is intertwined with the whistling sound of some people in the class, which complements each other and the rhythm is harmonious. For example, even if the garbage is taken out, you can still smell a lot of food residues, so you can Infer who secretly brought dinner to the classroom; for example, if you drink too much honey grapefruit tea, you will taste a little bitterness…
  I don’t know what this has to do with me. I just observe, stay out of things, don’t make evaluations or feelings, like a person who is free from everything.
  The so-called “seeing people with bamboo” means placing oneself on the periphery of the crowd and observing the “others” in our mouth through tiny bamboo holes. It is called “Peep” because it is secretly watching. People’s judgments are not static. We often unconsciously beautify or vilify the image of others in our own eyes because of our subjective emotions.
  When it’s low, I don’t even want to walk past this bamboo, which is short or long, and approach those “others”. I like and obsessedly immersed in my absurd and magnificent summer night fantasies, some lonely and sad, and some lonely and self-admired. When I was in high spirits, I inadvertently withdrew from this behavior of secretly investigating independently of everyone. The circle became less clear, the barrier turned into nothingness, and I could walk slowly towards the crowd and towards the fireworks.
  In fact, “seeing people with bamboo” in a sense is very similar to “looking at the sky from a well”. The frog in the well couldn’t distinguish the world other than the corner of the sky corresponding to the manhole cover, but because of its limited vision, it had enough time and thought to dig deep into the thin threads of all things in that square inch of the ground, moving and silent.
  I don’t necessarily understand the truth, but I want to live a stable life.
  Some people think that arbitrarily thinking and thinking are meaningless behaviors, or even wasting time. Some people think that emptying oneself and meditating is to better take a rest and prepare for the unknown days in the future. The discussion at the front and back desks became stronger and stronger, and it seemed that the more late self-study and the end of school, the manic and enthusiastic mood could no longer be suppressed.
  They are laughing, I don’t know why they are laughing. The girl who had been crying for a long time finally stopped sobbing. Laughing and crying are commonplace; laughing and crying have nothing to do with me.
  After a long time, I realized that this strange disease is very common. People around me have similar experiences. It will be a long time and will stay with me for a long time. It is not limited to the youth sorrow in the middle and high school era. It seems that every once in a while, I need such a period of time to concentrate on dispelling those negative and gloomy emotions. Slowly, I learned to use words to resolve, write down unhappy and depressed moods, and turn them into paragraphs and chapters, which will be brewed for a long time. Looking back after many years, it is more of nostalgia and hard to part days and nights.
  But I didn’t know this at that time. At that time, I was naive, thinking that I was really sick, and decided to record this strange disease. Then call it “summer night mania”.
  Well, a nice name.

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