Lola
Lola

来自边疆地区的年轻人 https://m.cmx.im/@lola

We are weak users of the motherland

Saying his name is bitter, a citizen fighting for freedom died in prison. Facing his undead, surviving is a crime.

I thought that a year and a half had passed, and this article should be put down and not mentioned again. But I didn't expect that it was only last month. It's only been more than ten or twenty days, and there is a sense of the vicissitudes of the world.

At that time, I wrote a comment on Weibo about a "Master of Tsinghua University entering a vocational school", but I couldn't send it out in just a few lines. Weibo gave me an inexplicable notification of failure to send: invalid weibo user!

It is this sentence that annoys me more than any previous "according to the relevant laws and regulations...". invalid weibo user! You also know that I am "unrecognized by law", "invalid", "crippled", "sick and weak", how can you suddenly understand at this juncture. But I've never seen the word, and I don't know what it refers to, "invalid user, illegal user", but it didn't actually kill me here, making my account an empty shell, just with an exclamation mark warned me.

I'm too tired to talk about censorship, it's overwhelming and accomplishing all its attempts faster than we can imagine. But when you actually bump into it again inevitably, you’ll still be blown away, you’ll still be unable to adapt, you’ll still feel out of breath, and you’ll keep thinking about the hallucinatory freedom of the past.

A friend asked me why I didn’t update the official account, and then I quickly understood that if I was used to freelance writing, it would be impossible to pass the trial. Even if there is nothing in an article, and I don’t say anything, there will be a drooping head. The flag of the party jumped out and betrayed my position. Those that were out of date and incorrect were all caught.

But what ignited my anger again is that we recently made a comment on a video involving Yi Yang Qianxi being admitted to the National Theatre. We changed it three times and failed to pass the review. The auditor on the opposite side refused to respond any more. Think about it yourself. Another friend who wrote Huang Wen even copied the preface of Tengwang Pavilion before the chapter in order to pass the trial, and it was full before the main text began. But it turns out that it can't survive for too long. This amorous Huang Wen shattered like fireworks.

Last night, the video was repeatedly rejected. We were walking on our way to dinner, joking that we might not pass the trial because the content was too spicy, but we couldn’t laugh anyway. I remembered that I read Mr. Kuang New Year in literary criticism before, and the same line of words was written at the top and bottom of the article: The great era calls for true critics. The words of Mr. Kuang New Year, from the beginning of 2000, are fresh, but it seems that too long has passed. There are no big eras anymore, and no real critics.

You want me to talk about what kind of era it is, and it doesn't fit better. Saw a screenshot on Mammoth this morning, Castro Podcasts posted a message saying their servers had been blocked by the Chinese government, and apologised to users: "Sorry to all our users, we care about you. The times are dark. "

We care about you. The times are dark.

If an Internet account is equivalent to a cyber clone, then I can also say that I have experienced shattering and death. But it has already been said that you cannot experience death while you are alive. Now that you are warned again and again and your virtual body is smashed, it can only prove that you are an "invalid user", "illegal user", and a weak user of the motherland.

Five years ago today, on July 13th, people who posted images of "Go Away" and "Candle" on social media would be silenced, and a little more may have lost the cyber-alternate forever.

Saying his name is bitter, a citizen fighting for freedom died in prison. On Twitter, I saw someone holding a white rose to the beach to commemorate him. I could vaguely feel the sea breeze blowing, and clusters of waves slapped the shore. The people who went to commemorate had a solemn and gentle expression, but it also seemed to be another The world's past.

My Weibo signature is written, using existing free. But I can't figure it out either. Maybe the existing freedom only exists here, only in this moment. I don't know which side will die first. I have no plans and no hope.


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Lola

人间此地,我是风前客。

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