Every year around this time, I wish for some profound changes in my life.
"April always arrives suddenly in such an unexpected manner. Eliot wrote in his long poem "April Is the Cruelest Season" that April was the cruelest month,
cultivating lilacs from the dead land,
Mixing memories and desires ..."
Accidentally turned to a diary written three years ago. It felt as if there was only a moment between then and today, and those details seemed to be clearly visible, the sound of the pen sliding on the paper during the evening self-study, the small note passed by me as a relay station, and the afternoon wind wrapped in an unknown floral fragrance. Flip through the books on the table, lie on the grass of the school at sunset and watch the changing sky, the background music is Pu Shu's "It's Too Late", the secret party on the roof of Shiyu Building during evening self-study, and a person is elated on his way home. Sometimes walking in despair, dizziness after the first smoking, excitement and fearlessness after the first drunk, some shy and bold ideas, secret rumors on campus, through the classroom window you can see the distant mountains under the mist. ...... Numerous images are accumulated layer by layer and slowly unfolded. At such an inadvertent moment, like a slow-moving old-fashioned train, it brought me back to the past.
These details are vividly visible, along with their smell and sound, as if within reach. But when I was about to get closer and see more clearly, they showed traces of scratching flowers, traces of chiseling, traces of graffiti, gradually blurred, ambiguous, and finally far away. escaped. At this time, I felt that some people and certain things in my life were really drifting away, and there was no turning back.
It was also about three years ago. At that time, the number of movies watched was very small, but I still watched almost all of Iwai Shunji's movies. Then I watched the "April Story", the cherry blossoms that bloomed in April and the smile of Song Takako complement each other. The director isn't telling a story, he's just portraying a state. A state that makes you both feel warm and unusual, like cherry blossoms raining in the sun, like a whisper in your ear, it will make you feel the skin surface is numb and numb, and it is still very moving. Some directors spend their whole lives in reminiscence, reminiscing about a certain moment in their life, and some no, they do not reminisce, they are simply immersed in it and cannot extricate themselves, Iwai Shunji should be one of them. His images seem to be forever fixed in a passing moment. For example, in "Love Letter", the curtains brushed over Fujii's face, and the sunlight poured on it gently and evenly. For example, in "April Story", Matsu Takako and her secret love The seniors held up the umbrella together, and she bowed her head and smiled shyly. The youth that has gone away is always worth recalling. He seems to have deposited some of the most important things in his life at that age, so he needs to keep looking back to confirm whether the treasures in his memory are still there.
Going back to the diary just now, in April 2006, I didn't read Eliot's "April", and I haven't read it until now. I have always had reservations about the relationship between Freud's "desire and death", and I have never had the desolate state of mind that "April is the cruelest season". Being hypocritical and hypocritical is a very stupid behavior. I'm not ashamed to admit that the youthful spirit of the year was for the sake of writing new words.
April is really a beautiful season, no matter whether those deepest wishes can be fulfilled. I was thinking that at this time, the peach blossoms in Longquanyi in the distance should be in full bloom. Flowers blooming and singing on Moshang slowly, you can go home.
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