貓兒
貓兒

愛貓成痴,但是又對貓毛過敏的女孩。 從精神上的貓奴,變成實質上的貓奴,喜歡貓咪呼嚕嚕的幸福聲音。 星座是大貓座,但個性很像家貓,喜歡放假一個人窩在家裡,享受一個人的獨處,沈浸在自己打造的文字世界裡。 期待自己的寫作風格,具有貓的優雅與貓的狂野,剛柔並濟。 我是貓兒,這是我的故事。

【Essays】Literature Obstacles

I briefly escaped writing, and then cut off the social network. One day of complete recuperation, I thought about what the lamp that literature lit at the age of 25 represented, whether it was a spiritual catharsis, a proof, or a goal for the taciturn self.

This article is considered a whim. Although it is classified as prose, the style is not as rigorous as in the past, and it is not as casual as ordinary essays. Let’s define it as such.

When I started trying to write my own story, Facebook seemed to read my mind and jumped out some literary award fanfic messages. Based on wanting to read some good articles and absorb the essence of literature, I follow the fans. Since then, Facebook's pages have been filled with more unworldly language.
Sometimes I don't know the language very well either. The work selected for the first prize is like an onion, which has to be peeled off layer by layer to know its meaning; even more like a king coconut, whose green and hard shell can’t find a chisel, others always say that coconut juice is sweet, I've never been able to taste that drop of sweetness - or maybe coconut milk isn't sweet.
I always thought, so great works must be written so that other people can't understand it is the highest level. But if you don't know what you mean, how can you convince others to get into your own state of mind?
I haven't found a suitable answer yet.

※※※

People are always so cheap. If there is extra time, they have to waste it until midnight. When the time is divided up, they have to complain that there is too little time. I broke free from my rotten inertia and sat down at the table to start writing, but I was inexplicably caught in a magical fog.
I thought it was a dream, the words were twisted into a mass of maggots wriggling in front of my eyes, and when I got closer, I wanted to see the words clearly, and my eyes were immediately shrouded in blurry white mist. I repeatedly took off the glasses to confirm that the lens just kept reflecting light proved not to be the problem.
A strong sour feeling came from the eye sockets, pulling me out of the illusion like a fantasy. The haze intensified, and the eyeballs did their best to focus on just one word, and the black words on the full page left only white margins in my eyes. I covered my eyes, got up and fled, the sourness actually sucked at my head like a powerful sucker, and a swelling feeling that pierced my eyelids kept exerting pressure on the eye sockets. I was very uncomfortable and just wanted to shout for help.

So I finally called for help.

Nearly noon, there were almost no patients, and only the old doctors saw the clinics that kept the patterned glass. He took out a cotton swab and swiped my eyes back and forth to check. After a while, he came up with a diagnosis of "beautiful eyes and no infection".
I still don't know what's wrong with myself.

※※※

I briefly escaped writing, and then cut off the social network. One day of complete recuperation, I thought about what the lamp that literature lit at the age of 25 represented, whether it was a spiritual catharsis, a proof, or a goal for the taciturn self.
My thoughts suddenly fell, and I felt that I should not be qualified to talk about these topics. Literature embraces all people and allows them to express themselves freely, while setting a threshold to separate them. The language I can't understand is a realm that is currently unattainable, and a small coffee like me will spend a lifetime wandering around in this secluded realm.

His eyes could finally open a little bit.

I went back to my daily life again, swiped on Facebook, and the selected article shared by Fanzhuan was Wang Dingguo's "Literature, the Realm I've Never Reached", such a straightforward title knocked loudly in my head.
The senior tried to return to the literary world despite all odds, but he encountered an eye problem when he regained his pen. He chose to fight hard at the end of his soul when he had no time to wait. He was no longer youthful, and he was unwilling to stick to the past. He said that he is still going beyond, on the road to literature.
I shouldn't be so selfish.
Take advantage of the youth and the capital to steal the years, while the eyes have not been spoiled by the blue light, save some confidence and courage to take every step in the future, even if the obstacles are as high as the city wall, you must do your best, and then No shame.
The light seemed to be on again.

Photo by Unsplash


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