於琛琛
於琛琛

半路出家的政治學徒一枚,文字時而溫柔,時而暴烈,時而浪漫,時而尖銳,時而簡潔,時而瑣碎。【近注】不需要追蹤我,最近忙於家事和讀書,也沒新文章可以追蹤。

【Micro】Afternoon with a pause in spring rain

"So she buried her own youth with her own hands." Although she doesn't like to break between sentences, this is the composition.
Photo by Amin Hasani on Unsplash

1.
These days she thinks about the unfinished manuscript, tossing and turning, and suffering from illness for a few days,
The rain outside the window stopped and fell again, and the rare sunlight could not enter her heart under the colorful curtains,
She was dormant in that space that belonged to her,
Spring sleep. The door didn't take a step.

The rain fell on and off for several days until the sun came out that afternoon.

She happily stood on the balcony on the 14th floor, staring at the blue, blurry coastline in front of her, but it was not endless.
In a hurry to smooth the skirt that was blown by the wind,
However, Xiu's long fingers smoothed the wrinkle that was disturbed by the wind, the one in his heart.

2.
"I think six sugar cubes will do," she said to herself. Then she walked down the balcony, taking it easy.

The man standing behind caught the indifferent smile on her face, with faint traces of sadness,
So the man gave her a cup of black coffee without sugar, in line with her bitter tone no matter what,
"I want six sugar cubes," she said, biting into the dark chocolate.

Dark chocolate and black coffee are as bitter as her pessimism. She is paranoid about choosing the breed she likes.

She also said that she will spend her life looking for a man who can make her a cup of black tea that is sweet enough to make her cry.

3.
She was sitting on the sofa, clasping her hands and holding the warm coffee, listening to this unfamiliar music passing the time, sweet but ruthless.
She was sitting on the sofa thinking with such an elegant and indifferent attitude.
She thought, the happy and sweet scene she saw at noon was something she had experienced but had forgotten so long ago that it seemed like she never had it;
She thought about whether the men who walked through her life were grateful or resentful;
She thought that although it was unnecessary, she still decided to live in such a paranoid life;
She thought about the books and movies she had read at an inappropriate age, the people she had met, the stupid things she had done.

Will the above words one day end up like those hypothermic photos in a badly printed poetry book, murky and indistinct?

4.
She is used to reading long sentences, so it is not suitable for reading poetry. So between several stop signs, I turned over a collection of poems twice.
"I heard that it's been a comment for more than ten years," her friend laughed at her.

"I've only known him for a few hours, it's like looking out the window on a bus, passing quickly without remembering the scenery."
She defended nervously. Troubled, who can see through a person between a few lines?

Then, why no one came to tell her, and would understand what her words revealed,
For example, she hasn't laughed enough yet, the corners of her eyes have been glowing, she is very greedy and wants to find more happiness,

Also, she wished that a man would give her a cup of coffee with sugar and chocolate, and let her taste the sweetness of sadness.

5.
Before she reached the door of her house, raindrops fell from the sky without warning.

She hesitated for only one-half of a second when the rain poured coldness into her collar recklessly, blurring her vision.
Standing in the rain, she suddenly remembered the sudden heavy rains in her life,
There seems to be nothing to see.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked herself aloud in the increasingly arrogant sound of the rain.
In fact, this rainy season is very good, the beginning is in spring,
It's just that there has never been an appropriate person or thing, and it just happened to appear at her loneliest time sooner or later.

6.
When she came home that night, she tied her wet hair into a ponytail, and turned on a yellow light and a stagnant screen.
I want to continue the unfinished manuscript,
The background music is Chopard's Mazurka Op.17, No.4.

Of course she knows neither classical music nor Chopin's composition,
It's just that when she looked up in the rain and saw that gray patch, it reminded her of Adrien Brody's sad and beautiful eyes.

Just thinking about it and listening, her eyes filled with warm tears, and she typed on the keyboard,
"So she buried her youth with her own hands."

Recently, I am preparing for the doctoral class exam. Weekly reports and social activities can only be suspended. Please be patient.

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於琛琛

【停止經營】一個大齡女子移居多元文化之城Toronto、並重新踏上學術之途中的所見所聞和反思。文章產出偶爾慢半拍,希望能定期發送週報介紹書籍和好文,卻往往失敗。

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