Dear Diary:
Can a person manipulate his memory?
If not, where do those self-deception whitewashes and comforts come from?
If so, why do we remember only the trivial details of many important events? The face of the protagonist, who was so vivid that he could not be ignored and blocked in front of the camera of the years, became blurred.
Have I really met him?
Do you really feel it, my mother clenched my hand and slowly said, “Luo Luo, look, that little boy is their child.”
The children of their family.
The red flying shards of firecrackers, cheesy and colorful ribbons, float in the noisy voices. I don’t remember any guests coming and going, but I can always think of a vague aunt who leaned down and asked us children-is the bride beautiful? Do you want to be a bride in the future?
Everyone’s milky voice stretched out the sound, thinking–
But these insignificant little movements, smells, and tone words, like a soft hand, gently clinging to my heart. All the feelings at that time came back to life with these minutiae, as if the soul is still living in that small body at this moment, being pushed around by crowded guests, trying to pass through the noisy joy, to piece together a fresh and contradictory world.
At that time, the world in my eyes was still full of chaotic and insignificant fragments.
It’s just those things that don’t matter.
It is precisely these trivial things.
What I have been obsessed with for so many years turned out to be these, not that person.
From Luo Zhi’s diary
