25 hour

Dear Diary,

Good evening, this is Budapest.In the afternoon, I found you in the attic, and since "To Jiaying" was written in Edwin's handwriting on the title page, I unilaterally believed that it was my item.

I have to say that the things the old guy sent are really good quality. After so many years, the feeling of writing on paper is still very smooth.

Except for the homework required by the elementary school teacher, I don’t seem to have written a diary seriously. I don’t know how long I can last this time. If I only write this one in the end, please don’t regret it, because those blank pages are Shen Tom My true portrayal: empty, boring, impatient.

I have insomnia.Although this is the norm, this time I can finally blame others for my insomnia.

Yep, His Majesty invited me outside my house in the afternoon to have a date with him tomorrow.

God, I didn't expect to feel so ashamed to write about it, and in a diary just for myself.

It turns out that young people still like to talk about the old word "dating"?

But having said that, in all these years, it seems that I haven't seriously "dated" anyone based on the unknown premise that the young master hinted at me, between peach and white.

I've seen other people go on dates though.

Squatting by the attic in the afternoon, looking downstairs from the low window, I can still see the window on the second floor of the orange spire house—compared to the age of eight, I have grown a lot taller, but there is nothing in the picture in my memory What has changed is that the person sitting there and writing has disappeared, and even the table is still placed at that angle.

Now that I think about it, I don't even seem to remember her name. Zoé, Luca, or Emma?

Her appearance is actually very blurred.And compared to what she looked like, I seem to remember other unimportant things.

She would set up a small white flag in front of the window every Thursday afternoon, step on slippers to go to the swimming pool to exercise in the morning of weekends, because she kept a pet secretly at home, and was kicked out three times by her mother who yelled at her for holding a kitten... I Remember her first kiss (maybe first kiss) also happened downstairs in her house under the street light that I could see, Edwin used to wait for my grandma there, and Zoé/Luca/Emma was there with her little boyfriend kiss shyly.

Well, with that said, I'm kind of a voyeur, and it seems to only increase as I get older.

I still remember Qin Zheng's home in Jiangcheng.

It was very large and empty, and there seemed to be nothing but the necessary tables, chairs and beds.

But are tables, chairs and beds really necessary?

It may not be necessary for human survival, but it should be regarded as necessary for the elements that make up a "family".

It seems that our Majesty does not intend to settle down in Jiangcheng, kisfiúfedélnélkül (little boy without a roof).

It's three o'clock in the morning, I just finished eating a box of biscuits (half of the bed crumbs fell off, I hope Ms. Shen Yuru will not scold me tomorrow), watched a few episodes of Budapest travel documentaries (trust me, this is normal, most people are telling others When I introduce my hometown, I will suddenly run out of words), it is not yet dawn, I am still a little hungry, and now I decide to stop writing for the time being and go downstairs to find something to eat.

The stairs are in disrepair and creaking, hope not to wake our young master.

Good night, diary.

If goodbye, I'll tell you about dating.

If there is no goodbye, then I should and generally have a good life, akáramennyben, akáraf?ld?n (whether in heaven or on earth).

Dear Diary,

Goodbye again.

I write these words to you in the turbulence of the plane.

I haven't been to Iceland yet.

When I was in school, some students would take a boat from Norway during the holidays. I also took a boat, but I usually went south to the Faroe Islands.

I really like to take a boat, especially when it is close to the polar night, there is only an invisible misty blue outside the porthole, and occasionally there are swimming fish passing by, which also look like creatures from another world.Time became a least important symbol on the way, and I felt that I could find peace of mind there that I could live forever or sleep forever.

The feeling of flying is very different. There is less sense of aimless drifting and more anticipation to the destination.

When I left Oslo, I went straight to the place full of flowers. I probably didn't expect that I would embark on the journey to the lonely Nordic again a few years later, and regard it as my final destination.

Qin Zheng is sleeping next to me.

I observed him for a long time just now, and I am very sure that he must not be pretending to be asleep now (I can guarantee this, after all, I have rich observation experience).

Originally, he wanted to use a pen to draw something on his face, but holding the pen and looking at His Majesty's facial features for too long, he felt very embarrassed to destroy this perfect layout, so he had to regret it.

Just before he fell asleep, when we were looking at the clouds outside the window, he suddenly asked me: Do you think clouds are free?

I said: yes.

And he (again-and-again!) countered: I don't think so.

I didn't want to talk to him at first, but after thinking about it, I asked cooperatively: Why?

He said: Only a free heart is free.

I have also heard sentences similar to this sentence from my grandmother. Ms. Shen said: "Everything is not difficult, everyone finds it difficult."

All things have no meaning in themselves, and all meanings are added by people.

It also seems to make sense.

By the way, a date.Hmm... I love this date.

seriously.

In fact, it’s not that I haven’t imagined the same person dating, hey, I’ve been imagining Zoé/Luca/Emma since I was eight years old and squatting by the attic window.I think I might walk side by side with a person on the Danube, buy cotton candy, eat ice cream from a small roadside shop, be stopped by homeless people sleeping on the streets to sing poems, and overlook the whole of Budapest on the cable car leading to Fisherman's Bastion, Finally, I sat back on the stone steps in front of my house, and under the reflection of the summer night wind and street lamps, I talked about trivial things and thoughts that I might forget in a blink of an eye.

Many times, I have imagined this, but I never feel that I will really have such memories.

But just yesterday, these imaginary images and the blurred face of the person sitting next to me all became very concrete in an instant.

I thought I would run away in fear, but I hugged my dear majesty until the early hours of the morning.

Nothing makes sense, but made my day.

It felt like I was back on that ship again.

I couldn't see the scenery outside the window and in front of me clearly, and I didn't know whether I would reach the end safely, or if I would hit a reef halfway and fall into the bottom of the sea forever with the shattered hull, becoming an unknown martyr.But at least at this moment someone is putting their head on my shoulder and preventing me from writing a real suicide note.

Let's go then, let's go.

Qin Zheng, I think I'm really...

Dear Diary,

haven't seen you for a long time.

I hadn’t arrived in Reykjavik when I wrote the last diary entry, but now I have settled here temporarily, and it may surprise you a bit—I’m with Qin Zheng, whether it’s from physics The meaning is also the meaning of philosophical thought.

In the afternoon we talked about death by Lake Toning.

This is very strange, I usually don't talk about such intimate topics with others, but now I am as honest with Qin Zheng as I am with myself.

"I'm dead, but I'm not dead if no one knows."

"I can still live a long life in people's dictation."

I told him so.

He didn't comment, just kissed my forehead.

I think he knows exactly what to do to really soften my heart.

And, although I have always thought it was a very private thing, I still showed Qin Zheng the photo album called "Before I Lived" in my phone a few days ago.

The content of the photo album is nothing special, just some moments that I captured first with my eyes and then with the lens.

The sun and rain in Quebec, the sunrise at Yancheng Airport, the night view of Jiangcheng from the floor-to-ceiling windows of Qinzheng’s apartment, the Burger King in Copenhagen, the floor tiles in Vienna, the loft in Budapest, the extreme daylight in Reykjavik...

In other words, everything I saw along the way after my aneurysm diagnosis in Canada.

Knowing that you have a ticking time bomb in your head can be a bad feeling sometimes, and my doctor told me that most people die of an aneurysm bursting on the way to the hospital before they even know they have a tumor in their artery.

Unlucky one in a thousand, I got this disease.

One in ten thousand luck, I knew in advance.

But I didn't have the courage to face life and death like this.

Perhaps the high-spirited remarks that Qin Zheng and I talked about were also beautified rhetoric?Maybe I am just a coward who is greedy for life and afraid of death, afraid of dying suddenly on the road, afraid of dying helplessly on the operating table, and even more afraid of dying in a dark room where no one can see.

But he said he loves me.

Love.

What a beautiful word.

God, Buddha, Virgin Mary, please forget me for a while.

you faithful believers

沈苫