I'm a very, very, very boring person. How boring is it? My sister often said that I was like a soul, and I didn't even make a sound all day long, which made me panic. I don’t follow dramas, stars, hot searches, gossip, read news, go shopping, eat delicious food, play fun, don’t read comics, and only play the secret room once. , Twice script kills, no makeup, no fancy dresses, no friends, wechat is basically only sent to my husband (in the case of serious business), most of the phone calls to my mother (recently my dad and me) I am too lazy to call him if I have a conflict), and calling my sister is limited to discussing family matters. I don’t like to go out, I like to stay at home. It’s best to have no one at home, only myself. If on vacation, my husband is always dangling in front of my eyes, and I will stare at him. I also have a Labrador named Qizai, and he likes to follow me wherever I go, but I basically ignore him.
I am very boring. When I chat with others, I usually can't catch the words. Often, everyone talks to me and talks about a topic. When it's my turn, there is silence, silence, silence. Awkward. I am also distressed, but can't do anything about it. I also thought that it would be better to become an interesting person on the spot, warm, cheerful, beautiful and generous. I tried hard, but I failed, and I simply gave up. It is really a shame to say it.
Like me, Patterson is a rather boring person. He is a bus driver and lives in Paterson, New Jersey, USA. Yes, he has the same name as the city. It can be seen that his parents are also a rather boring old couple, and there is no creativity in naming their children.
Bus driver Patterson drives his NO.23 bus every day in Patterson City, going back and forth on a fixed route. At noon eat lunch by my wife by a dam, go home in the evening, after dinner, go for a walk with a bulldog named Marvin, by the way have a beer at a bar called "Pub", then go home to sleep.
The next day, still.
Patterson has an invariable wooden expression, no emotions, no emotions, everything is light, light, rarely laughing, let alone crying, and occasionally frowning.
Such a boring person who likes to write poetry. Before the bus started, he sat in the cab, took out a notebook, and wrote down some fragmentary thoughts. At lunch, he took out his notebook and filled in the thoughts he had not finished in the morning. Before going to bed, he ran to the workbench in the basement, took out the notebook, and filled in the unfinished thoughts.
His life is set in stone, his poetry is not. Every day a new idea comes up, every day a different voice whispers in my chest. He seemed to capture these thoughts casually and naturally, and write them down. He can take out the book and write anytime, anywhere. Writing poetry became a part of his unchanging trajectory, a part that was changing all the time, linking his boring life. But writing poetry didn't change anything, his life was still boring, and he still wrote poetry.
The movie "Patterson" tells the story of this bus driver named Patterson, and tells the eight days of his life: getting up, eating breakfast, writing poetry, driving the bus, eating lunch, writing poetry, eating dinner, walking Dog, drink beer, write poetry, go to sleep, wake up... and so on.
His beautiful wife, Laura, was his only reader, always encouraging him to do something about the poems, such as going to a city copy shop on a Sunday when he didn't drive, photocopying a few collections of poems, and sending them to the publishing house. One day, he agreed to Laura's request and decided to go to the copy shop that Sunday. I surreptitiously guessed what would happen next: The poetry collection sent to the publishing house was selected by the editor, published, and he became a household poet and never drove a bus. NONONONO, the plot is that the bulldog named Marvin, on the night when the two of them went to the movies, like a prank, tore up the poetry collection that was on the sofa and was going to be photocopied. Patterson looked at the debris on the carpet, confused and lost in thought. Loss is certain, but it doesn't last long. "Those poems are all words written on water." One day it will dissipate with the wind.
A passing Japanese traveler, poet, meets Patterson, and they chat about each other's favorite poet, William Carlos Williams, by the dam where he often writes poems. The Japanese poet gave him a blank notebook, he opened it, took out a pen, and wrote "The line" on the first page. Life has entered a new round of cycles, and in the same time, there are words and phrases that change from time to time.
There is a high probability that the life of the bus driver Patterson is like this, in the placid life, continue to write those poems floating on the water. Those poems were largely unpublished, but he still kept on writing, as naturally as eating, drinking, and sleeping.
Not to mention whether these poems are good enough, but naturally embedding an event that is not necessary in life into life and making it necessary in life is very moving in itself, and the boring life of Patterson is also very moving. Fascinate me.
So, how to live? What is the other answer? Continue being boring and stick to it.
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