bedroom literature

【Chi Liangzhou】

Chi Liangzhou is in class.

Chi Liangzhou was fishing.

Chi Liangzhou catches fish in class.

Well, that essay ghostwriting was actually almost finished.Although I am not interested in any romantic style theory, and the buyer also said that it is foolish.But out of professional ethics, he still checked a lot of information and printed it out at a cost.

He didn't buy a laptop, until there were a lot of changes in typing, so he bought a small folding keyboard and connected it to his mobile phone for typing.He had an idea to put away the tablet, and it would be like that even if it was connected to the keyboard, not to mention that the electronic reading room also charged by the hour.

And with a tablet, the paintings I drew with my fingers can also be preserved.

Just when he was stuck at the epilogue, crazily polishing those nonsense conclusions, the teacher gave him a glare.I was too involved, and I forgot that my keyboard was too broken and the noise was a bit loud.Chi Liangzhou flinched and stayed until the end of get out of class.

When packing up, the signature card that was said to be ugly fell out of the gap in the textbook by Chi Liangzhou.

He picked it up, and looked at the simple design with admiration.Black and smooth lines frame half of the pure white card, and roses and vines are wrapped around the folded corners.The lines of big red flowers are the finishing touch, and the abstract style of painting will not make the black and red color scheme too gothic, so as not to make the whole book classified as youth pain literature.

In his mind, the best design is one that is easy to copy but absolutely impossible to create.

Next to him was a strange older brother from the same department who sat in the last row with him and slept through the whole class.Woke up now, and immediately stared at the card in his hand.

"Damn it." The elder brother sighed.

Chi Liangzhou thought to himself, he has vision.

I can't tell that this burly man is still so interested in this kind of small illustrations.A macho must match a rose.

The other party asked to lend him the card, and he readily agreed.

"You are real." The elder brother took a photo of the card to the light outside the window, and carefully examined the gaps in the writing, "Yes, it is absolutely true. This thing can only be obtained after a few generations of virtue, where did you get it? "

"Ah..." Chi Liangzhou recalled, "I think the frame of this card is pretty, so my friend gave it to me."

The eldest brother was silent.

The eldest brother looked forward to it but decided: "Would you sell it for 200?"

"Ah?" Chi Liangzhou's jaw dropped in shock, "You paid 200 for this piece of paper? For a piece of paper?"

"Yes."

"No, this is a gift from a friend, and it was struck by lightning when it was resold. Besides, I actually like this design very much."

"I like the frame, it's easy to handle. You can make a copy and sell me the original."

The eldest brother was not reluctant and raised the price to 250.

The two faced each other for a few more rounds, and Chi Liangzhou finally felt that something was wrong and ran away in despair.

Through the conversation, he figured out that what this person wanted was definitely an autograph, so a photocopy would allow both of them to get what they needed.

The author's signature is so valuable?

Back in the dormitory, he touched his nose, checked the author on the browser, and glanced at his encyclopedia entry.With many honors, he lamented that the relationship between seniors is really tough.There are tens of thousands of capable people in the world, and it might seem exhausting to be passionate about each of them, but if this person has some kind of connection with your real life, it will be completely different.

The multiplied awe, while sincere, is partly laced with the exhilaration of comforting boredom.

Find that book and read it.Turn a page, oh, start dead.But this time the writing is really not what he is good at chasing murders and detectives, because the one who dies is the protagonist, "I".

No.1 is called angle of view.

This is the story that happened after death——

Lord Yan smiled at me tenderly.

"What is your cause of death?"

"Abject poverty." I answered frankly.

"Then from now on, you are a poor ghost. Everyone applauds."

Chi Liangzhou read a few pages, and roughly said that the deceased was a college student who committed suicide because of poverty and lost hope.When he was wondering why he didn't need to reincarnate, he was directed to look at the relevant regulations of the underworld.

The blood-red characters on the gate of the stele are shocking.It says:

Anyone who commits suicide has no right to be reborn.

Another small word was found on the side.

Be careful to find the meaning of life again before returning to the world.

Indeed, I was determined to seek death, and I was not in a hurry to start over. The regulations of the underworld are still very humane.However…….

Suppressing the sadness rising in my heart, I asked him, "How to decide whether to comprehend the meaning of life?"

"It mainly depends on whether you have realized the meaning of life, secondly depends on your performance, and thirdly depends on your connections."

"Understood." I smiled, "I guess it's the main connection, the second connection, and the second connection."

"Hahahaha... the child who can't think about it." He looked at me, suddenly got up and approached my face, a strange smile appeared on his chaotic face, "don't be too pessimistic, because it's useless. This world, this world I can't help you."

I was frightened by this weird smile and took two steps back.

I don't understand, why can't I think about it?

When I raised my head, my enlarged field of vision just happened to see the couplets in this palace clearly:

merits and demerits finalized

Enmity and enmity dissipate

Going forward

When I looked down again, he had disappeared.

After work, I was in charge of classifying various ghosts who committed suicide.

A diver who was rescued from a forest fire and thrown into the forest by a water harvesting helicopter committed suicide by stabbing a branch into an artery on a tall tree branch, and was classified as a ghost by himself;

There are people who shout "I can only live for loving one person, but I can die for loving two people", and I am classified as a fool by myself;

An artist who climbed a volcano during his travels and jumped into the magma the second the photographer pressed the shutter said in his suicide note: "If the concrete floor and incinerator prevent my corpse from integrating into the ecology, I will find it myself. My favorite Tiger, I want to be eaten by tigers. No, no, I want to leave my masterpiece to the world, and I want to keep the photographer safe..."

His protection of photographers is only out of consideration for the preservation of his own works.

I cannot comprehend or classify the last act.After all, I'm just a poor ghost, with no wine and no stories, and the underworld is still the bottom of society.

Ghosts don't have to dream, but they are trapped in their own visual memory all the time, and they can emerge as soon as they close their eyes.

I looked at the towering tree that carried his soul, and saw the brown dry blood waterfall spread from top to bottom along the dry and cracked branches;

I heard the memorial service speaker say, "What people should forgive most is the private life of a genius";

I saw red, hot lava splashing from the black rock mass, and the man shouted, "Please, leave me alone and take a picture."

Well, his method of death is still beyond my comprehension.But I met a painter who really let me know how the category is named.

I created a collection of dossiers, called Mad Men, and threw in everything I didn't understand.

At this moment, Chi Liangzhou's cell phone vibrated.

【Yu Ye】

Yu Ye: [Didn't you get the courier today? ]

Eat for two weeks: [Get it and read it without opening it]

Yu Ye: […]

Yu Ye: [Yes. ]

It turned out that he didn't read books, but he didn't read my books.Yu also thought sadly.

【Chi Liangzhou】

The interrupted thoughts returned to the book again, thinking about the cause of the painter's death.It is said that once upon a time there was a well-known writer who won various awards. He was a loyal perfectionist, and every time he published a book, he had to check every detail by himself.He pays the most attention to the cover of the book. Before the book is published, he will post an expectation for the cover on the social platform in advance.But to a certain extent, this is a somewhat detrimental way, which can exert pressure on the painter.

But there is an account, every time the author finishes posting the expectations, the picture can be produced immediately, which perfectly meets the requirements and even more magnificent and directly pokes people's hearts, which is deeply memorable at a glance.The writer suspected that this was some kind of AI technology, but once he found that even if he didn't make the so-called expectations, the painter could freely draw in his own heart based on the words of the work.After going back and forth many times in this way, the writer directly threatened on the social platform that he would draw all the covers in the future.Either because they both pursue pure art, or because they are obsessed with this sense of proportion, in short, out of some mysterious tacit understanding, the two have never chatted in private, let alone met, and even They didn't pay attention to each other's accounts, so they cooperated through an intermediary for many years.

Until one year, because the great writer was still single in his twilight years, he felt the pain of sobriety from time to time, and the endless emptiness generated by the pain, and gradually produced the intention of self-determination.

He wrote a book about people who committed suicide.

But because my emotions are only lonely, I can only write some moments of aesthetic feelings and life tension. Although the praise in the literary world is getting more and more popular, the writer himself always knows that this is an obscure and blunt book in essence. All pieces fall from height to height.

He never leaves room for writing.He knew that he was blinded by fame, wealth and loneliness, and had already lost the aura of the past, and he might not be able to write good works again in this life.

He gets depressed and even starts to get sick.

In that year, the artist did not paint the corresponding painting either.

Decades have passed since they knew each other, and the writer thinks he may have passed away.Or, he could no longer appreciate his own work.

In fact, the latter was even more difficult for him to accept.The writer became more seriously ill, and his life was on the verge of death.

Just when he was about to let go and close his eyes, the servant at home told him that the artist had published his work.

He sat up tremblingly, and saw the painting, signed by him, called "The Man Who Died in the Change of Seasons".

The painting is the universe in dynamic state, the background is a shiny star cluster, and the content is that a person is killed by the moving earth.

The part of the person's face where the eyes should be drawn is a white blank curtain.

The writer sat there for hours, just staring dreamily at the screen.

The books he wrote are dead, but his paintings are alive.It is the elegy that he failed to express through words, which was supplemented by the painter's huge painting, even overflowing, even flooding, and finally pouring into the ocean.

it's dark.He suddenly sat up, he was going to see the painter.After collecting information, it was a week before I saw him again after going through all kinds of dangers.

A week later, he found the painter who died in the studio.

When the writer came, he knew that the painter would not survive.This level of illusion of sensory dislocation is definitely not brought about by alcohol, and those blank eyes may be an unfinished stroke.

The phone was thrown on the ground, it was dead.His diary was on the scattered papers on the floor.

The painter said that he considers himself a talented player, and every time he reads the author's book, the pen in his hand seems to have his own spiritual consciousness, and the works in his hand are naturally natural and easy to read.For so many years, he and the writer have become friends, but he can't draw this book alone.He felt that emotions were not coming to him, so he took the initiative to look for emotions.He ate hallucinogenic mushrooms, lost his mind in a state of madness, and created this painting in a state of death without knowing it.

With no eyes in the painting, I missed the first sight.I know the vacancy in that eye, it should be the way you opened your eyes.

Human beings want too much, so let the incomplete endow eternity.

At that moment, the pain caused by waking up, and the emptiness created by the pain, were all filled by the dark reality.

When the servant came in again, he found that the writer had died in his sleep.

Hands over the eyes of a young corpse.

And above the eyes and hands is the rectangular hollow that was dug out of the painting, and around the eyes is a bright star cluster.

Both of them seemed to be killed by stars.