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The Man With the Moon

  The moon holds the man’s hand, the
  warm light extinguishes the street lights, the
  upside-down pages are walking in your body,
  you sell the extreme day in my wasteland, the
  moon can’t shine on Luna, and
  Luna doesn’t need the moon
   —
  Insomnia never sleeps city
  ”white, it’s me” Bright and dazzling hell.”
  Have you ever been fascinated by someone, someone you’ve never met.
  I haven’t seen the moon in too long.
  In the extreme day, I have been insomnia for too long. When I have nothing to do, I will draw the person’s appearance, but every time I can draw the back. He stands in a grassy wasteland, as long as there are no flowers, I call it a wasteland. His tall body must have been able to support the shabby, crispy windbreaker the color of a dry maple leaf, and the texture that shattered when you squeezed it was really fascinating. He used a hat as gray as a sparrow to block some of his white hair, and he was tired but contentedly holding the moon like a sickle, one by one, marking it in my heart.
  When I stared at him, I had hallucinations, maybe he had been staring at me for a long time.
  My sister always asks me what I’m drawing, my love, and this time I finally blurt it out calmly. But why this time, I can’t tell.
  ”Your lover? Then why do you only paint his back every time?” My sister’s eyes, which were as clean as glass balls, were filled with confusion and ignorance. I understand her ignorance.
  ”Because I can only see his back.”
  ”You’ve never seen his face?” There was a hint of sarcasm in my sister’s eyes, “How can you be considered a lover?”
  ”Forget it.” I was firm At that time, there were stars in his eyes, “Although I haven’t seen him, I adore him.”
  ”Then how do you share your thoughts with each other?”
  ”Pray, by the sea.”
  ”What are you praying for? Why is it by the sea? Will he show up?” Children always have a series of questions like the candied haws in a book.
  I had to gently poke her forehead with my cold index finger, “You don’t understand.”
  Hai, it’s upside down.
  So I started looking at the sky, but in my mind was the golden bread my father brought back from work to fill his stomach. I used to think that everyone would look down for the sixpence I once dismissed, but when I really couldn’t find the moon, I realized that we were all the same, and fighting for one of the pence instantly made the whole picture lose its poetry. Only when you have a full stomach can you have the strength to talk about ideals and love. And the meaning of my existence was gradually swallowed by the golden waves in front of me.
  I stood on the reef by the sea, trying to find the moon on the sea. I have heard of the mirror and the moon, and I know that there are no flowers in the wasteland, and no moon in the sea, but I still let the waves beat on the back of my feet, He slowly lowered his head like a believer on a pilgrimage, letting every strand of hair fly in the sea breeze. Only he knows that I am looking for the moon, the bend in his hand.
  In fact, I knew from the beginning that he stole my moon.
  It was he who told me, at the seaside where we first met.
  His back was far away from me, blurring his vision in the evening wind and fog, so clear that only hearing was left.
  ”Hey Luna, are you here too?” I wasn’t surprised when he called my name, but when he said – are you here too?
  It’s like a beautiful love story.
  I stood in the dark place of time or space and looked at him from a distance, maybe we had seen him, maybe not. He was standing in the moonlight, and Yu Guangzhong said that the man was a third character, but I still don’t understand it. Seeing that he didn’t turn around, he just stood there and was blurred into a small shadow. I also wanted to say, oh, you are here too! But I didn’t.
  But I know, I am infatuated with his back.
  Such and such.
  He waits for me at the beach every day. And I always put on my favorite scarlet dress. People say it’s the color of a bride’s wedding dress, and I like that statement too. I also asked him why he stole my moon, and he told me that he was the child of the moon, but I couldn’t see that he wanted to borrow the moonlight from his mother for a few days. I don’t believe him, he just wants to keep me imprisoned in a world that will always have him, I always think so happily.
  He always said that a child is inseparable from its mother.
  Just like I can’t live without you, I always respond that way.
  Maybe I fell in love with nothing, even if I didn’t kiss his rough lips, hold his warm palm, or even I didn’t see him. I just follow him forever, fascinated by his broad shoulders and the pretentious but always sad downfall.
  I still pray that the moon never appears, that he waits for me by the sea, that I don’t love him too much.
  Night after night, night is too long.
  I am determined to write this sentence, obviously we only have daylight here.
  But my long night never ended.
  I am wandering on the coastline alone, and loneliness is the moist air wrapping my body, waiting for him to come down on my horizon like moonlight and pour on my equally moist body.
  He still left his back to me, still the crispy windbreaker like a dry maple leaf. The texture that shatters when squeezed is still fascinating, like a strong romance. At that moment, I seemed to see the tiredness in the corner of his eyes.
  The only difference is that he is holding a curved moon in his hand, the moon I haven’t seen in a long time.
  But at this moment, I forgot that I had no night longing for moonlight, that I had been in this bright and dazzling hell, that I had no real existence in front of my eyes, I just wanted to know—
  ”Oh, my sir, please Turn around and tell me your name.” It was
  like a few stars blinked wildly in the long night inside me, looking forward to it.
  ”I’m sorry Luna, I’m here to return the moon to you.”
  ”I don’t want the moon.”
  ”—I just want you.”
  ”No, Miss Luna,” he used the honorific this time, “you’ll have the moon, and every day is different, I promise.”
  ” – And I just want you to be the same every day.”
  ”Will you leave?” I seemed to know that he would not come back, “Then look back at me, just one.”
  I seemed to be begging, today is the only day , The corners of the scarlet dress were not soaked by the sea, like the crimson flowers blooming on the seashore spreading with the wind, like poppies, more like blood. I am standing in the daytime of “seeing the sun”, and we still maintain such a one-on-one relationship, walking together in this splendid hell. Everything seems to have not changed in the slightest, and everything seems to be completely overturned.
  However, he didn’t.
  People say the moon has come out.
  A full moon, like a jade plate, more like a broken mirror.
  In the exclamation of my sister, I heard a carnival, a carnival without me.

  If white is my bright and dazzling hell, then every time I look up at the seaside in this long night, the moonlight reminds me of your departure, and I fall into a world lower than hell. Finally, he forever imprisoned me in a world without him.
  I was dragged back from the sea by my father, and you still didn’t show up, my sir.
  A tear fell, like the moonlight, wet the world.
  You seem to understand everything. Memories are like moonlight, and the face on the bronze mirror is as vicissitudes of life, and it will eventually turn from clear to dim.
  In this upside-down world, you are nothing but longing for an outlet.
  And you, don’t need the moon.
  My sister prayed beside me.
  ”I pray that my sister is not a lunatic talking to herself, and I pray that the silhouette of the seaside is an illusion of a mirage that appears after a long day.”
  I stared at the ceiling as bright as the day on the bed, no need to think, my eyes must be like glass Like a ball, the lines inside are like silk, full of emptiness and despair. After a long time, I heard her sigh again:
  ”She’s crazy.”
  I couldn’t sleep anymore.
  Burnout Utopia
  ”I made a net to catch the moon, and I’m going out to hunt tonight.”
  Have you ever missed a person, a person close to your eyes?
  But I stole her moon.
  The days of catching the moon, I am too tired. In order to capture the moonlight in her heart, I don’t know how many places Dian Pei has been displaced. I turned off all the street lights, just to leave the moonlight all over me. There are all the wings of birds in the eye sockets, and even the difference in grass color can be clearly seen, but I have never seen Luna under the moonlight, the most beautiful can never be seen with the naked eye, I understand this truth, so I Steal the crooked moon.
  ”Golden mirror, golden other half.”
  I believe what Borges said, “there is such loneliness in that piece of gold”. Even though I’ve always watched her walk nodding along the beach in my upside-down pages, I’ve repeatedly convinced myself that loneliness originated with Adam and Eve, and that it has nothing to do with me, but I still look at that person and Feeling lonely, as if stealing her moon would give a little pleasure. In fact, I am even more lonely.
  When I stare at her, I always feel that she has been staring at me for a long time.
  To be precise, it’s my back.
  My wife looked at my latest painting and finally stopped complaining about why I didn’t paint her, because she firmly believed that the woman in the red dress by the sea must be her, even if she didn’t have such a red dress that burned mine. Heart.
  Her name is Luna.
  I never told my wife that it was my own secret.
  But every time my wife looks at this painting that she thinks I made for her, she is so proud of herself, the corners of her mouth can’t stop rising, and she is ecstatic and grabs my thickest brush, trying to dip it all over the place. My bright yellow paint. Of course, I stopped her in time every time.
  ”It would be nice if there was a moon here.” Her pursed lips were covered in lipstick, like two boiled red sausages.
  ”Oh, my God, you are the moon.” Seeing that her expression still didn’t relax, I had to add this disgusting sentence, you are my Luna.
  As a man, I have to admire the vividness and sensationalism of my language when I lie, of course not with honey, but with lard. I’ve only recently become addicted to wasting time to sleep so I’ll go to that moonless place, and I don’t have to be forced by my wife every day to swear to love her forever and ever to that ruffian who changes every day. Although no one knows that place, I stole the moon.
  only you know.
  So I will dream of you, Luna. The moon is the key that connects two time and space, I want to talk to you again.
  However, please forgive me that I can only leave your back, please forgive my hardships, my world is too cruel, only with you can I get some comfort and peace. What you don’t understand, I hope you never understand. You once asked me why I stole your moon, and I said the moon is my mother. Yes, but also not. I told half the lie, but I told this lie because I wanted to imprison you in a world with me. But you have to believe that this is not my original intention, and no one is a prisoner of anyone. At that time you said, we are another self in parallel time and space. I don’t believe it, we are so different, you are brave and fiery, while I am haggard and withered, looking at your scarlet dress that flutters in the wind, I shed tears inexplicably.
  In your invisible gesture, my back.
  I made up my mind to return the moon to her. I was walking on a path in the wasteland, but it was obviously a grass, please forgive me for not knowing why I wrote this way. All I know is to stand in a place wider than the sea and look up at her, “I once held your face in my hands, and the moon fell on it.” Rilke’s poems always explain my sorrows well, just When I said again that the child is inseparable from the mother, she said it was like I can’t do without you, and I knew that we would eventually be separated.
  Because, there is no child who can’t be separated from their mother, and there is no you who can’t be separated from me.
  There is a saying that long pain is worse than short pain.
  In this upside-down world, love is exotic.
  You don’t know if looking at her like this is a blasphemy against love and a sully against Luna, because of that sentence “God’s Spirit runs on the water”. There are too many common thoughts in my mind, which can’t match the pure and beautiful gesture she is walking on the coast at this time. She can only hold her moon from a distance and look at her bare insteps step by step on the gravel. Make a mark in your heart, step on the moon once, you said to yourself, like stepping on an unnamed taboo.
  I held Luna’s moon in my hand, imitating the tone of the male protagonist in the movie, and said softly like Natsume Soseki, “The moonlight tonight is so beautiful.” At that moment, I reminded myself countless times whether love could be an illusion, those nights I love only the moon in my hand not her or love itself. I can’t help but make fun of Natsume Soseki. It’s really good at coaxing people, but such a golden crescent moon is like a machete that kills people without blood.
  And you still looked puzzled, but you blushed for a while and said yes in the moonlight, hesitantly.
  That moment, I think it was this moment, the moment we parted.
  I stroked the canvas tremblingly, and there was a full moon in front of me.
  How many pieces of my broken heart pieced together, just to illuminate your white splendid hell.
  All the beautiful and splendid, don’t they all flourish and decline, and wither at the most beautiful time?
  Like a work of art.
  I keep reminding myself that I am an artist, but I forget that I am also a human being, a living human being.
  And her red dress is blood-stained romance. Reflected in the blue sea, it is like a quiet fantasy.
  I saw her walking by the sea, like she was chasing my back. But so many nights, starless nights, it seems that every step I take is a little lower, as if to sink into soft sand, or an unnamed splendid hell, the stars in the eyes that are about to come out fall in my pupils , broke again.
  I was eager to fall in love with Luna for inspiration to paint, but I didn’t know I was already in love with her.
  Falling in love with her is clearly something only an artist can do.
  The person who loves her, I am not an artist.
  ”Luna! Luna!”
  I called her name in her world, but she could hear the crash of the waves against the rocks, the carnival and gossip of people, and the heartbreak of the moon, Only can’t hear me.
  In front of me was my wife who woke me up from a deep sleep, and the thickness of her palm still left a slight pain on my shoulder.
  ”Are you calling me?”
  She obviously hadn’t forgotten the lie I told, but I was extra sober this time. No, I said.
  I didn’t worry about the change in her expression behind my back, but walked into the bathroom.
  ”Golden mirror, golden other half.”
  I repeated this poem in my mind, and in front of me was an albino face, pale face, snow-white hair, and even the pupils may not be the color you imagined. I didn’t lie to her, albinos are children of the moon, and we are another selves in different time and space. She said it well. I knew when I created her that she was me and Luna was the moon.
  So, I’m not sure if my moon can illuminate her anymore.
  My Miss Luna.
  On a moonless night, is it superfluous to say good night?

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