Friends#
Childhood#
Not long ago, I had a dream.
In a gang war, I faced a person rushing towards me alone. The automatic rifle in my hand shot bullets like popping beans, but the bullets were deflected before hitting the enemy. In my panic, he had already run up to me. In a moment of desperation, I swung the gun at his head and narrowly escaped. Friends who often "kill" know that killing is easy, but disposing of the body is difficult. I rode a tricycle alone to dispose of the body, which always made me uneasy.
To prevent the body from being discovered, I covered it with a tattered cotton quilt. Because it was summer, I decided to dispose of the body the next day.
On the way to the disposal site (an abandoned demolition village), I met my childhood playmate in the shack area. She was more beautiful and delicate than I remembered, at least in terms of her facial features.
When I saw her, I stopped the tricycle and asked, "How have you been recently?" Actually, there was no need to say much. We had played together naked before. We knew each other inside out. It was because of this that I found her current maturity and beauty intriguing.
"It's been okay. I'm cooking at home now, and I'm going to make pancakes later."
"Are you married now?" I shouldn't have asked that question. Because I knew that as a lively and outgoing person, she was always liked by others and could get along well with the opposite sex. Unlike me, who couldn't enter social gatherings. So she must be married.
"I'm married, and I'm with Xiao L." I was shocked. Xiao L was my best friend, although I didn't know if we could be considered friends since we hadn't been in contact for a long time. According to her, Xiao L is now a chef and has a gambling problem. He usually ignores her.
After a while, I saw Xiao L on the road. I pulled him aside, pressed his head with my hand, and said, "She is the person I like the most. You must treat her well." Xiao L smiled awkwardly.
Then, I wrapped the quilt on the body again and rode the tricycle north.
After disposing of the body, I saw her and Xiao L in the mall. It seemed like they were looking for me. I felt guilty towards her because I had thought she was a thief before and scolded her for several days. Later, I found out that the hairpin was not stolen by her, but was given to her by my family. I had even forgotten the specific details, but I remembered feeling guilty. Now all of this has been deliberately forgotten.
Although I saw them, they flashed through my mind and disappeared. They were my childhood friends. No matter what kind of life they were living, it was a normal and traceable life. And I was a weak murderer. Although they lived in shantytowns, I looked down on them, but I felt that my actual living conditions were even more shameful.
High School#
I had a high school classmate who loved playing basketball. Because of his big butt, he had a strong impact on the basketball court, so he was called "Big Butt".
Big Butt had a tough exterior but was soft on the inside. Before the second year of high school, he had no interest in liberal arts. He liked asking questions and was even called the standout student by the math teacher. Of course, we were the ones being compared to chickens, and I, who was bad at math, couldn't even be considered a chicken.
However, in the third year of high school, for some reason, maybe due to family reasons, Big Butt suddenly became interested in liberal arts. He started liking essays by female writers and history.
Of course, many years have passed in a blink of an eye. Big Butt is one of the few high school classmates who still keeps in touch with me, but I sent him away with a few words. Big Butt has never contacted me since. Maybe he will in the future.
Big Butt couldn't stand some things in the world. He liked the traditional life of small bridges, flowing water, men farming, and women weaving. He initially thought that people's hearts had become bad, and they were all keen on pursuing money and status.
I expressed my views on the ruling class to him and pointed out the political reasons behind it. Although he didn't believe it at first, with three years of epidemics, housing slaves, and thought control, he gradually believed what I said.
I doubted whether I was instilling some bad things in others. He said that he knew that these things were not in line with the mainstream and felt that his perspective had changed.
But I was actually worried. I compared politics to the Black Forest. Once you enter the political Black Forest, you can never leave. You can only bear the mission of survival and hide from the hunter's dark gun.
I officially established this idea on November 29, 2022. Since then, I don't like to talk about politics, or I talk about politics in an obscure way. But in any case, I strictly limit my political exchanges with others.
However, Big Butt had already partially accepted my views during the mid-term of the three-year epidemic.
Big Butt said that he felt increasingly estranged from the people around him. He expressed that he would not let his children live as tired as we did. He also said that he wouldn't become a housing slave. Renting a place to live is also good.
Although this political view brought him benefits, I still doubt whether what I did was right.
As one of the few people who came to the village to find me, Big Butt came to the village with another classmate near the Spring Festival last year. I didn't invite Big Butt into my home because this "home" is not mine.
And I really don't like talking and chatting over food and drinks. It is a burden for me.
I rode an electric bike alone to the entrance of the village. After a brief chat with Big Butt and some other friends, offline communication was impure. Moreover, with a third party present, Big Butt didn't come specifically to find me. After a short while, we each went home.
After that, I still occasionally communicate with Big Butt. But I have never actively contacted him.
One night, during a conversation with Big Butt, we discussed the utilitarian nature of human relationships.
I was the only one talking throughout the conversation.
I pointed out that all relationships are material relationships for anyone, and pure spiritual relationships do not exist. So, I don't believe in friendship.
If there is a pure spiritual friendship, it is the kind of linguistic communication we have.
I always say that it is better to forget each other in the world than to support each other. Rather than two people clinging to each other, it is better to be like fish in the sea or birds returning to the deep forest.
After that, Big Butt didn't say much, just like before, occasionally reaching out to me.
One time, Big Butt found me again, saying that he was bored and then talked about other things. I found it uninteresting and told him in the early hours of the morning that excessive contact between friends is not good. Since then, Big Butt has not contacted me.
Heartless People#
Above are two short stories about my friends.
I have always believed that I am a person without friends. Even if I once had friends, they have already drifted away from me. Perhaps, I can only remember their figures in my dreams.
Modes of Communication#
Friendship is a type of social relationship, and I have always analyzed it objectively. I believe that friendship needs shared interests to be maintained. And I, myself, do not have any value to exchange with others. Just like Big Butt, the only thing I can do to help him is to give him advice and analyze the problems he faces. But I never actively contact any friends, or even if I do, it is just a matter of courtesy. The way I interact with friends is also very simple, just chatting with others. Using my knowledge to analyze things. Apart from that, there is nothing else. But I have few friends who maintain a relationship with me. Big Butt may be one of them. But we haven't been in contact much. Of course, I think he will still contact me. It's just that my views and attitudes towards friendship seem to remain the same.
Since friendship is an objective material thing, whether it is more material or verbal, it requires a carrier of interests. Just like my conversations with friends, it is a way to maintain a long and genuine conversation by using my thoughts. Each communication event usually lasts for several hours, sometimes from 9 pm to 2 or 3 am. Even if we never meet again, I feel no regrets. I feel that it is better to forget each other in the world. Because as a person who escapes from society, I don't have much material to offer. The only thing I can offer is a long and genuine conversation. Forgetting each other in the world, for me, the most important information has already been conveyed during the conversation. I have poured out my understanding and insights into the world. So even if we never meet again, what difference does it make?
Not Initiating Communication#
I don't try to initiate communication. I don't want to change others proactively. The content I express, the words I use, in my opinion, are like a poorly designed house. My grand building is easily toppled. My stars may not be able to illuminate the stars of others. My value may be zero in the eyes of others. My gifts have no form and are insignificant.
Comfort Zone#
There is a popular theory about comfort zones, which suggests that in order to grow, one must constantly seek pain. I can't help but ask, what drives those who want to break out of their comfort zones to constantly seek pain? Is it for greater benefits, higher cognition, or to avoid future risks? Why must we break out of our comfort zones? Can't we just stay in our comfort zones and live a comfortable life until we die?
Pain is not a good thing, and progress does not necessarily mean discomfort. Can't there be a relaxed and effective way of making progress? I think relaxism may provide another perspective. As a person who often experiences pain, I don't think comfort is bad. On the contrary, comfort is a high pursuit. If a person can live a comfortable life, I think it's worth it. Breaking out of the comfort zone means constant change, constantly creating more value, and overcoming obstacles... I think this behavior is perhaps what the collective expects. We already know that life is meaningless, at least no one can find a universal meaning, even just being alive, this common meaning, many of us have already achieved the meaning of life. But within the collective, there are still many forces advocating for pain.
Anti-Collective#
I am against the collective. It is precisely because there is a huge inequality between individuals and the collective. Individuals and the collective can never be equal. And this substantial inequality, even if balanced by laws and morals, can never be eliminated. And many times, this is just a trick played by the collective.
The subjectivity of communication between individuals is the reason why I do not seek active communication. I expect to communicate with others, just as I hope that someone will like what I write and feel satisfied when the numbers increase. But I feel guilty towards those who feel pain after reading my words. I don't want to cause pain or create anxiety. Although I have always wanted to root thinking, I know that I have been branded by the collective. I just want to escape further. For a person who escapes from society, should I actively engage in a social behavior of transforming society to seek active communication with others?
Sentiment Doesn't Necessarily Make a Hero#
When I deviate from the norm, I have already shed the outer shell of humanity. When I escape from the collective like a wild beast, I can no longer pursue the joy of entering the collective.
Therefore, I restrain my existence. I just want to rely on the remnants of the collective in me to fish alone in the cold river and snow.
Lu Xun once said that sentiment doesn't necessarily make a hero. I have always felt puzzled. Shouldn't it be that sentiment doesn't necessarily make a hero? In history, apart from the ruling class like "those who dare to bear the world," all the civil and military officials are remembered by later generations because of their sentiment and righteousness. So logically, sentiment should make a hero, and how can one not be a hero without sentiment?
20230819