Fragments / 碎片
Fictional, meaningless writing practice. 虚构的，无意义的写作练习
When does a discus feel its own incompleteness? It’s not the moment it is born from a factory mold, not the moment it is packed and then boxed up with its companions, not the moment it is wiped clean and ready to take to the field, but when in the air. A discus, suddenly remembering all the injustices of its creation by God: the dust mixed in the mold holds up its cracks, the bumps on the road make it lose some mass, even the pressure of the sunset to make it deviate from its square shape. A discus, in the air, looks back at the player who threw it with resentment, and also falls to the ground with a determination to destroy itself.
I went to the park holding a story and played origami with others who were holding stories. We folded up our stories, and eventually only a few incomplete sentences showed up on the surface to be read. I read some of the stories that were folded into airplanes, finger traps, and darts, but all that remained in my mind was “you”, “me”, and “him/her”. My story asked me, “But aren’t ‘you’ and ‘him/her’ both ‘me’?” , I said, “Yeah, don’t break it down, they take refuge in ‘you’ and ‘him/her’ or they’d be writing about you over and over again with hundreds of pseudonyms like what I do.”
I slept on the damp couch in the cabin, unable to move one of my arm. There was shallow water on the floor, a conductive calendar taped to the wall, and metal food on the table that I hadn’t finished eating. I was going through a process of my own, like a fish washed up on deck by a wave and then flung into the sea. I waited over the bumps for the arrival of a man. He would sent me the parts I desperately needed as a gift, which enables me to start repairing myself. No anesthetic was needed; I decided to replace the waterlogged capacitors myself.
Day is a continuation of night, I wake up to see people walking down the street rushing to work but still dreaming. Day is a complement to night, night retreats into the shadows of opaque objects and draws clear boundaries during daytime. Day is the packaging of night, those words condensed in the darkness will only be dusty in the sun. Day is less perfect than night. Day is less pure than night. Day is night mixed with mistakes. Day cuts night to pieces, heartbreakingly. Day is the test given to night by the earth. I push open the door plastered with labels cut from clothes. What strange and bizarre, yet irrefutable theories are you inventing in the room?
Finally we all become people who can blow smoke rings. Recalling how eager we were to gain the ability, asking for tips to learn how to blow smoke rings in private like passing secrets, practicing curling tongue and mouth, and even cheating at parties, with fingers tapping the cheek to blow a perfect smoke ring to show they have mastered it… Finally, we all became people who could blow smoke rings, some used it to provoke, some used it to show off, some used it to attract girls, and then they all disappeared one by one, from the smoke ring spitting support group. Of course, the most boring people are us, who use it to make a living – to perform blowing smoke rings. We have to live with it day and night, even though smoking have burnt our throats and blistered our lips, and whenever I see the audience cheering desperately for my performance, and I see in their eyes there are me in the past who longed for it so much, I think to myself, how cruel it is to gain something.
All along the way, it is the problems that erode me away
The feeling you want to write down is fleeting, the words are like illusions, and when you read them again, you are in that moment of your life.
Opinion / 观点
Immature Opinions based on observations. 不成熟的观点
Workflow is a priceless asset, I read a report that NetEase’s competitiveness in making games is actually its internal tools and workflow precipitated in the past 20 years, which makes it able to mass-produce games with low enough cost and fast enough that the ROI is positive. Similarly, for individuals, the precipitated workflow (that is, habits) will likewise make a huge difference between people and people in the end, in which a lot of trial and error results and know how are formed. of course this is a nonsense, but just because it is not written on our balance sheet, it seems that there are not that many people who consciously change their workflow. For example, I’ve been trying to figure out how to mass-produce workflow for writing for almost 7 years, and now I’m finally on track.
I try to keep the language as concise as possible, writing only the important parts and only the parts that must be written. I look closely at every idea that comes to my mind and use it as a criterion to determine their length.