"Appreciating Broken Souls • Is This My Cruelty - Plum"

I opened the long-sealed manuscript and once again examined a manuscript I wrote on June 25, 2013, which was also at 3:10 a.m. As if everything was predestined, it was a warning of what would happen in the future...!

"Appreciate the broken soul, is this my cruelty - plum"

As my fingers tap on the keyboard, I kept wondering why I was named after such a title. After all, it originated on the night of the 23rd, when I stumbled upon a detective documentary on TV; a touching true record inspired my thinking.

When the detective was bitten by the mother bear, he bit off the nerve of the eye, pulled the eyeball out alive, and crushed the bones of his whole body. In that instant, he had five or six minutes of his brain going blank and without pain. He went to another world, so beautiful, so blue, with a sense of relief. It was relaxing and happy.

At that moment, he wanted to stay in that world too much from the bottom of his heart. As a result, the soul returned to the body, and he miraculously survived. He felt the pain, and the mother bear tore off his scalp again, leaking out the white skull, and he heard the sound of the mother bear biting every bone of his, and he was really dead; as a result, he was sent to the hospital to be miraculously resurrected at the call of his lover. Despite losing his face and eyes, he gave himself life. It is because he has; lovers, the guards of loved ones, summoned. I was touched and inspired. Immediately came the inspiration, immediately the tip of the pen was reclaimed, completely lost sleepiness...

From the perspective of my thoughts and actions this time, I am not modest enough to say that the articles I wrote this time are somewhat cruel, but they are so realistic. I didn't want to express it in reverse thinking at first, but I couldn't control my nature and was good at taking risks!

I've seriously considered whether what this article is trying to say is positive, or...? Inadvertently, I reversed my penmanship. I think so, usually people usually see that the expression of love is that kind of, popular, lackluster.

Therefore, this time, I boldly dissect life and love with reverse thinking.

I remember that I had written this passage in a diary before; Mr. Lu Xun once said that "tragedy is tearing beautiful things apart for people to see." Yes, the love that has been preached in the world from ancient times to this world has always been broken and beautiful, sad because of regret, sad because of separation, and perfect because of brokenness.

Just like Zhang Ailing, who is now commented on in people's eyes, she is a rebel, including her mother's natural rebellion. After all, she left so many beautiful stories of moving love for posterity; show posterity to appreciate. Beautiful, good....

Also, the Sanmao I admire the most, her articles are so beautiful; her life is so regrettable. And behind the regret is so beyond the beauty of ordinary people.

I admire them, I admire them, I love their characters and love stories. I have to admit that I follow their shadows!

So, I fantasize in this article that I'm dying...

I left

Honey, my dear ones! I'm gone, I was wrong. I shouldn't have crossed the street, I shouldn't have just played with my phone to text my lover and run a red light and let the soul leave the body.

I lay in a pool of blood... Let the body lose the temperature a little bit.

Separating from him seemed to have been deliberately arranged by God. He used to be a pretty good man, in every way, sometimes impeccable. Although later he betrayed me and betrayed our vows of love, he went against his conscience. But he also carried a heavy cross! Every survivor is required to believe that everything is karmic. God is very fair, and he will be rewarded in the cause and effect of what he sows.

My departure allowed my relatives, my lovers, to wash their faces with tears. I was also in pain, but I didn't have tears; I pumped my mouth hard because I wanted to cry. I felt cold, there was no warmth in the atmosphere I had, the cold air, the cold face, I forced myself to laugh, and I couldn't laugh all the time. I wanted to cry, but there were no tears. I remember an old man once said that ghosts have no tears. So, I'm sure, I'm dead....

I know very well that many people around me, including my family, are crying for me and calling me stupid. But I left, even though I was reluctant to do so.

Day 1

On the first day of separation from my relatives, the people who loved me were still silent in pain, and I wandered around them in more pain. See their haggard faces, haggard corners of their eyes with tear marks.

Is there nothing for everyone to do? Myself included, why do I have to cause so much trouble for the living?

I saw my relatives, lovers, friends all eating. Is there my favorite; lamb hot pot, potato goulash, spicy tofu, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and braised striped fish, are they made for me? These are my favorite foods in my lifetime. Everyone was smiling, sluggish, expressionless; not even I was sitting quietly beside them.

I saw that the person I loved the most, he had been chewing on a grain of rice chopsticks all the time but had never clipped a mouthful of food.

The next day

The day after I was separated from my relatives, I put on heavy makeup and appeared in an unknown bar in the city. Because I never put on makeup, never wore a glamorous costume, and never went to a bar.

Now I can go, because I'm dead, and I'm sitting on the sidelines of the bar, like the episode I saw on TV; drinking one unknown spirit after another. The bar was full of empty bottles, but I didn't feel drunk. I never drank, never drank, but today I stubbornly pour hot liquid into my stomach. I couldn't smoke either, and I could clearly see a small cigarette roll in my finger slit. The bar echoes with electronically confused sound effects, and the dance floor is filled with indulgent screams. The crowd swayed to the rhythm of the music. Later, and then later, I felt like someone was calling me away all the time. Yes, my lover seemed to have dragged me out of the bar. I seem to be awake...

Day 3

The third day of separation from relatives. I found that the old mother was sick, her silver hair was messy, and her face was covered with tear marks, and her face was too old to form. Mom, I was wrong, it was my daughter who was not filial, it was I who was not good enough to let you suffer such a blow if we two had a relationship in the next life, I would beg the heavens to serve you as your daughter in the next life...

I also saw my lover, who was lying in a hospital bed, sick in a coma and kept calling my name.

Day 4

The fourth day of separation from relatives. I saw everyone become reticent, they were all in tears I thought, I would love to try the tears at this point, who can tell me what it tastes like?

Day 5

The fifth day of separation from relatives. I understand very well, I deeply feel that everyone can not forget me, my relatives are still deposited in pain, deposited in the past days of my life.

A month later

Separated from my relatives for a month. I think I should go back, I shouldn't hurt them like this, I do, I really want to stay by their side forever. But they never saw me again.

Two months later

The second month of separation from relatives. I miss my lover so much that I couldn't resist visiting him that night. I felt my own heartbeat, I missed him, I knew that the moment he saw me he would hug me tightly, kiss my forehead, earburns... Couldn't resist pushing open the door, I saw. His face was still handsome, but the corners of his eyes were covered with frost, and I gently wiped it for him, but he wouldn't even look at me. I don't blame him, because a deceased's visit to the living is too undeserved.

A year later

The first year after separation. I couldn't help but miss it on a thunderstorm night. I went back to his house, I gently pushed open the door, and I saw the lover I missed day and night. This time, it was just that he had one more woman by his side. She, as well-behaved as I was then, lay in the crook of her lover's arm and fell asleep sweetly. My heart immediately ached beyond words, and my kindness did not allow me to separate them.

I quietly withdrew, and walked alone into the deep night of thunderstorms... I found my soul squatting in a corner secretly crying, and I was so distressed that I couldn't express it. I couldn't soothe my soul. Because I don't have tears.

Two years later

In the second year after the separation, I received the news that he was getting married. Half a month before they got married, I saw him posting to friends and family, except for me. When I quietly opened each of the posters with the big red characters of double happiness, they were printed with the names of the bride and groom.

Before I died, I was his bride, but unfortunately I never had another chance. He was getting married, but the bride was not me.

My tears finally fell, and I shed tears for the first time. And he couldn't see it, maybe no one could see it. Because, ghosts have no tears!

If I could turn back the clock, I wouldn't have chosen to leave. Yes, love can cross life, even if it is separated by heaven and man. In fact, love is very simple, as if the loved one has died, it is a kind of mourning.

There is nothing sadder and most painful in the world than the fact that the dearest people are gone forever. When the love died, my heart died, and it became cold from then on.

Remember, the day I left was because I was texting my lover, which was the day I received a text message from my lover and he asked me not to contact him in the future. He betrayed me, he betrayed our promises, he hurt me, I broke down. I texted like crazy, I called, and he pulled me into the blacklist forever. As a result, I lost my life by wading all the way to the white bone and floral fragrance, miserable, tearfully looking for the other party's information.

Slowly and long, I could not bear to forget his heaviness, and took the initiative to bow my own lightness. When the soul weeps, it makes the living weep even more. Some love stories are beautiful but not romantic. When love dies, people die.

Before I wrote this article, I had been fantasizing about myself dead. Because I am accustomed to the love of personality, I miss those feelings that return to simplicity. Sometimes when indulgence and ruthlessness are squeezed together, the heart changes, the form changes; life can no longer bear the insignificant beauty.

My rebellious thoughts this time are only expressed in a personal attitude to turn love into tragedy. This makes me feel that the overall approach is particularly unforgettable, mournful and miserable. In particular, the sorrow of love is reduced to words. The so-called "plum literature" of mine has inadvertently turned into reverse thinking about beauty, surpassing myself, examining myself from different angles, and improving my level of study.

"Obsessively into ashes, acacia does not die around the front." I will be stubborn, very stubborn to think that as long as a woman is affectionate, the sex will eventually get her own happy happiness.

In fact, in the end, love is really very simple, so why push two people who love each other to the end of the road? Love is love, why do you have to be so tired in the process of love, you have to force a woman to die without a way out?

This love ends like this, who pays? What is Karma? What is fate? You and I are mortal, how can we be ruthless? Who doesn't want to have the good, who doesn't want to have enough love in this life, and to bring the love to the next life? So, I don't want to express, I just want to surpass myself!

I am glad that what I expressed, I will still be moved! I dare to examine life, to examine the cause and effect of my own death.

Never knew that one day I would meet you. Did you know that one day you will leave me?

If so, you must take my love well and give it back to me in the next life! Having been with you for so long, I already feel like the happiest woman in the world.

When love dies, so does the heart. I just don't know who should say to whom in this love city: I'm sorry, dear !???

Meizi was revised on October 6, 2021 at 00:10 a.m. on June 25, 2013