Memories
Marguerite Duras once said, “To me, love which isn’t just kissing and to touching or eating for survive, is the desire not to die and a kind of heroic dream in the exhausted life.” To be honest, I have to admit that love is necessary and probably the support of everyone’s sophisticated life in some way. But passionate love always seems so distant to me and I am not actually very fond of any form of too passionate things. Subtle and gleaming pieces with softness and moderate warmth are just the right things striking my heart strings with the most magnificent beauty.
I always think of my only few old friends whenever I’m feeling sick or weak. I can’t count clearly that how many times I have lit up my cell phone’s screen trying to send some words to them, or anyone with patience who is not tired of hearing such mess. However, the typed messages all ended up with empty input field or even never appeared. I just staring at my screen for a few minutes and exit. Therefore, memories are the support of my hard times.
Something never fades away in my brain. I remember the old days when I went home with my friend growing up and living in the same yard with me. There was a time when my family and hers went to watch a laser light show beside the river of our small city. I was so addicted to the feeling when she and I were surrounded by the noisy and hasty crowd, hearing various of complicated and meaningless sound composed of adults’ loud talking and laughing, serious comments on national political events as well as neighborhood’s daily things, calling out of their children’s names and babies’ crying, screaming and many other weird sound. All these things passing through my ears like intermittent and unstable electric current from the old and cumbersome radio on the top of my grandfather’s redwood wardrobe, distant and unreal. In the unreal world made of sound, what I could feel exactly is the warmth and softness of her hand. I could even imagine her palm print and the clear profile of her face, although my eyes were staring at the colorful dark blue sky from beginning to end. I just imagined all the splendid things. Our parents were standing several meters behind chatting something casually I didn’t care about nor I was interested in. I felt isolated from the surroundings and the only connection and company was my friend. We tasted marshmallows together, talking about something I can’t capture now. It seemed as if we were two clay figures immersed in shining water in a circling crystal music ball, in a safe and quiet place. The freedom is from the inner part not the outside world, I mean.
I also remember the bright time during my darkest high school. I dramatically found that all pieces of test paper, every exercise book, every formulas and classic examination questions and things like these have been forgotten completely, not even with a little lingers. Of course, except for Chinese and English. Well, maybe I just didn’t study hard enough, I think. The only comfort and sweet memories are probably every dizzy breaks when I rested my head on my elbows, hearing my excellent classmates discussing complicated math problems and obscure science competition. Sometimes, I liked to put my ears on the desk to hear noisy and lively sound becoming ambiguousness, reminding me of continuous waves flapping grey stones and sand on the beach below a cloudy day, no wind but not sultry. It just felt like a wonderful tranquility enveloped the nowhere place. Relying on fictions, proses, strange and weird thoughts crammed my brain and occasional small talks with my deskmate, I got through my high school life. When I feel lost in some part, I will have to find another way to make up the vacancy to feel better, giving me a chance to experience peaceful places. Although I felt incompatible with the surroundings almost the whole three years, I still had one precious friend, whom could never be replaced or lost in the past or in the future. Tracing back that period of time, I fortunately and tragically found that she was my only true friend who made me comfortable and temporary peaceful when being together. What impressed me most is that she once told me a secret about herself that I might be the first one of one kind of group to know. To be honest, a rare sort of emotion that I was cherished and trusted hit me, making my nerves thrill fiercely. I do appreciate her willing to communicate with me, making my life not so tedious. Actually, I always feel we are so similar in many perspectives, like thoughts, attitudes and so on. However, what I adore and even envy her is that she has much more freedom of her temperament and doesn’t wrapped herself up so tightly. I also hope she can get through her present dilemma and embrace the brightness in the way ahead.
All these things had become distant but will always be vivid now and then. But the most impressing thing of my present life is a little different. There were one night I can’t forget my whole life. It was the first time that my roommate and I went to VOX. Actually, what exactly we were listening in VOX I have already forgotten completely, I just remember that show was not so much wonderful, at least I didn’t like it very much. But I still vividly picture every detail of that night on the way to our dormitory and the memory will never recede. Owing to school buses have been off duty and OFOs have all been placed somewhere we couldn’t find, we had no choice but to walk our way to the dormitory. It was at that time that the strange and illusory feeling hit me. Walking slowly on the vacant road, there were just huge outlines reflected by the dim warm yellow street lamp and some red slogan flags floating gently in the air. In the very drowsy night, I could see a few strands of hair stuck to the neck by sweat, and a few strands were in the air floating and falling, floating and falling, again and again. I could also see her clear eyes staring at the vacancy in the front, empty but complex, subtle and mysterious. Actually, both of us were wearing earphones listening to music alone and didn’t talk, but the dim and tranquil night stoke me with a magical and fantastic emotion that if only we could walk in a dark night road without an end. I was just so addicted to the surroundings and the gorgeous profile and clear eyes of her. It’s no exaggeration to say that I even felt falling in love with her in that few minutes in the dim and ambiguous breezing night.
Gleaming memories are the support of my occasional hard life, I will treasure every piece and detail of them forever to grasp the subtle brightness and trying to move ahead.
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