致四月

「四月最残忍」,果不其然。为了避免对四月的怠慢,特地在四月的尾巴留下一些痕迹。

虽然这个月没有更新博客,却也写了不少文字,其中大部分都是读书笔记。本想在博客中更新一些,但不知道出于什么原因还是没有这样做。在月初的时候我曾想过重构博客的结构,分设不同的专栏大量更新内容,但最近的一些经历让我对本博客的功能性和必要性重新进行了思考。

我的博客写作初衷在之前的文章中介绍过一二,主要是希望自己可以保持创造和写作的状态,保持思考、拒斥习惯和麻木。扪心自问,也确实在这个过程中收获良多。虽然内容平淡无奇,却也自得其乐,发了不少牢骚。可以说创作者无不希望自己的作品可以落纸云烟,我也是如此。但一是能力有限,二是精力寥寥,就慢慢在所谓「拒斥麻木」的过程中习惯了一种不温不火,不思进取的状态。

另一处矛盾在于,我本身并不喜欢所谓的流行文化。但现在的社会确实需要更多能够「讲人话」的内容帮助更多的人用一种更通俗和易消化——嚼碎了再喂给你——的方式理解事物。而这恰是有物质价值的媒介,人们需要的媒介,这个时代需要的媒介,也如波兹曼所说是属于这个时代的隐喻。我时刻在消费着这种媒介却又在拒斥着这种媒介,这种又当又立的状态属实算不上健康,但我也没有认为这样有何不妥。因为我没有所谓固定的读者,也自然无需——即便有时虚荣作祟希望能获得些许关注——取悦任何人。同时我也并不是十分在意家人之外的其他人的看法,也就没必要为自己无咎无誉的状态找七七八八的借口。久而久之就成为了如今的状态——即无广度也无深度。却也倒落得一身轻松。

所幸的是,我这个人足够自洽,也就自然活得自在。如果说我希望能留给儿子什么建议的话,那就大概是「自洽」吧——学会接受自己,不管是闪耀还是平庸,但也心如磐石,不轻易后悔、随意动摇。可以躺平,但请不要摆烂。

最后附上一首博尔赫斯的诗,也是一首他为数不多的英文诗——What Can I Hold You With,送给四月。

I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged suburbs.

I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon.

I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have honoured in marble: my father’s father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow;

my mother’s grandfather -just twentyfour- heading a charge of three hundred men in Perú, now ghosts on vanished horses.I offer you whatever insight my books may hold. whatever manliness or humour my life.

I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.

I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved somehow -the central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams and is untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.

I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.

I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about yourself, authentic and surprising news of yourself.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.