Once upon a time, I had a friend, she...
You must be thinking, don't say "your friend", it must be you who is writing about yourself, deliberately placing it on your friend.
No, it’s really about a friend of mine.
When I first met her, she was in her early 30s. At that time, she seemed to have lived for more than 3,000 years, the kind of person who didn't care about anything, lazy, tired, relaxed, had enough, and was used to it, and thought it was nothing more than this.
There are no words such as "ah", "ah" and "really" in her spoken language. There are no question marks, exclamation marks and dashes. There are only low-temperature words such as "oh" and "um hum".
She is very talented in learning. She has been studying for a Ph.D., and her journey from lecturer to associate professor has been smooth and smooth - even if there are a few rocks along the way, it only adds to her wild interest and spice. But there is nothing in this world that can make her indulge, including the men and women who have loved her one after another. She didn't seem to need anything. Nothing can make her gain or lose one point. God knows what she's made of.
She is far "bigger" than me and "deeper" than me in every aspect except age. Of course, her mental age is also older than mine, 3,000 years older than me.
There is no happiness or unhappiness, no happiness or unhappiness, no pain or no pain, this is what she is like. She has a phrase she often says: Just like that.
Calm, dull, colorless, tasteless, and emotionless "just like that".
I don’t know why she became like this.
It stands to reason that she should be a little warmer, a little more positive, a little more passionate and a little more enterprising, laugh a little more, have more fun, be more feminine, need more love, sex and friendship, We should pursue more fame and wealth, that is to say, we should embrace more passionately what we care about in life. But she didn't. She is so indifferent to everything and cares about nothing, a creature with a low temperature and zero narrative.
Isn’t she bad looking like that? Neither. That was cool, as if she could leave at any time, as if she wasn't living in the here and now. She is separated from ordinary people and the world by a galaxy .
Compared with her, everything we do, or most of it, is redundant and ridiculous. She is like a ghostly reference, illuminating our vulgarity, our vanity and busyness.
She lives a much easier life than us.
Of course, we are too lazy to compare with her, or do not dare to compare. After all, everyone has their own life, and everyone has a different way of managing life.
But because of her, I often feel that a lot of so-called happiness is boring.
She lost her vanity and desire for expression a long time ago.
Do you believe it? She didn't even have that kind of vanity that is the basic necessity of being a human being and that no one can escape. For example, she published an article, she won the Outstanding Paper Award, she was invited to give lectures, and she traveled to various places. Those very literary and artistic places gave her a lot of knowledge and experience. She read unpopular books and watched British dramas. She has never appeared in American TV series. In our eyes, that is really a waste of natural resources by walking in brocade clothes at night. But in her case, it seems to be the same whether she has it or not, whether she has it or not.
She has no desire to express herself. She never takes the initiative to contact people, and never takes the initiative to write a word. In fact, in many occasions where she appears, she often speaks out wise words. A single movement can bring the atmosphere to a climax and casually captivate a large audience. So what? It's like a person who has a fortune but is too lazy to spend a penny, and forgets to open the pots of gold.
She has long since stopped being tempted, but she often makes others tempted. Occasionally she would appear as a friend, matching the other person's enthusiasm and warmth, but then forget about it, as if nothing happened. It didn't make any difference to her whether it happened or not.
She has no curiosity about human affairs, but she still has some curiosity about the world of different dimensions. Most of her energy is spent on extravagant self-dissolution and self-destruction.Occasionally, a few of our friends get together and chat, and what she casually talks about is something we have never paid attention to. Occasionally, we get upset and think, what does paying attention to these things mean to reality? What does it have to do with yourself? But none of us dared to say it. We just felt that we were too ignorant. She is the kind of person who is both amazing and disappointing.
In fact, she is quite charming, if she is willing to show her charm. But most of the time, most of the time, she just let it die and sink. She never shows off those cheap and frivolous beauties. Of course, she is not beautiful either.
She should also feel the pleasure and meaning of living. It's just that it's her own world, and it's not something ordinary people like us can perceive. Of course, she doesn't need to share either.
She seems to be a hollow person, not the kind of emptiness with nothing, but the kind of emptiness that is solid and then pushed down and emptied, just like "seeing mountains as mountains" in practicing the third realm.
Maybe she doesn't know what she needs, but the problem is, she doesn't need anything.
Many times, I really want to talk to her. She understands everything I say. She also understands what I find difficult to express. She is the translator of all sounds and the psychic of all emotions and mental activities. Sometimes I talk to her about something on the phone, and after talking dryly for a while, she seems to understand everything, which makes people feel electrified instantly, with little sparks of chirping, and then they put it down.
What kind of friend is this? Although I think she is a friend, she may not need a friend like me who is invisible to everyone. In other words, she has always been in my heart, and I may have always been on the periphery of her inner territory. In her eyes, everything seemed to be in vain.
She is an immeasurable person, that is, the kind of person who cannot be explained and defined by any material tangible things such as education, experience, professional title, position, appearance, etc.
Some people you rarely meet and almost never contact, but you will think of them every day. It's as if she is appearing in front of your eyes at any time. She is such a friend.
She is the cold fire, the burning snow, the frozen smile, the sand blown up by the wind, the flowers, trees and moon shadow in the dead of night.
She often makes me feel so sorry, but then I feel like, what am I sorry for?
Once upon a time, I had a friend until now. (Author broken)
