The Xiangjiang River in March is freezing cold.
Where do you want to go with a leap?
15 floats, letting the waves beat the current.
Immature body makes countless people sad.
Talented people in the world die instantly. ...
Can you find a home in Nankang Baiqi?
Fish dragged you to Xiangjiang River.
They can't bear to chew your body. They can only drag you with the flow.
Tianya people built a tall building for you overnight. I only wish you a pleasant journey!
Nankang white flag. Xiangjiang River is relieved. Don't you know how much sorrow you have added to your elderly parents?
Tears flow silently. Blood flows silently. Don't you know how many friends you have let down?
-Little Black Nianlei
20 1 1.08. 13
It is better to go home from Nankang to Tian Lei.
They said it was a waste of time. From Changsha to Yueyang, a person walked quietly for so many days before saying goodbye to others.
Looking through his words on the internet: "Six Chapters of a Floating Life" I will wait for you until you are thirty-five. Clear and white, usually people with such words have clean souls, which is my stubborn insistence.
Be aggrieved for such people, not for the world, but for heaven.
I firmly believe that everyone should have their own persistence, treat their decisions calmly, do what they want to do and face their true selves.
It's a pity that the world is too unclean and impure. Although it is big, it cannot be tolerated. Abandoning everything that is not in the rules is just a narrow choice.
What about the same sex? ! After so many years of human development, has it regressed in some ways, or is the so-called progress only carried out according to the scale acceptable to most people? !
Is this society getting more and more progressive or regressing to some extent?
Nankang memory
Alas, Nankang! Alas, Nankang!
I thought double suicide was just an ancient story in legend, but I didn't know that you had actually left. Those temperature-sensitive words you left on the web page beat my heart one by one. Coming from your faint happiness and sad pain, I am asking myself whether my love has really come.
My friend once said that I am not a bodhisattva and can't save the sad people around me. In fact, I wish I could go back and hug you. Hug, don't let you flow away from my memory like sand-although I just saw your story today, your happy and sad figure is deeply imprinted in my mind. But how can I have you? What others can hold is your body. I meditated in my mind, Nankang, Nankang!
The dead are gone, and we are still alive. If I were you, what would I do? Unfortunately, I don't have your love, and I can't understand your pain. This is all I can ask.
I'm so sorry, Nankang! Nankang! ! !
Note: Nankang martyr loved Xiangjiang River and died. Looking at his webpage, my eyes filled with tears. I wish Nankang spirit in my heart, and I acquiesce in it. One day when I arrive in Changsha, I must scatter the petals of roses in the middle of the river, so that roses can accompany the soul of Nankang forever. And make a sacrifice for Nankang, one for Nankang and one for myself.
April 22(nd), 2009
Nankang jiji
Alas, Nankang! Alas, Nankang!
The dead are gone, and we are still alive. It is painful for you to keep repeating the road you have traveled. I used to miss you very much and never loved you, but when a certain feeling comes, I don't know if it is the same as what you met. Do you feel like a knife, or do you tremble to the point where you can't stand it? I think you must have met more.
I don't know how you did it. Stop suppressing yourself. Have you ever thought about having parents at home? I heard that your white-haired parents came to Changsha, and I seemed to see them. You're not in pain anymore. You loved smartly and left quietly. You only left a story in my heart, like a hard knife, cut to the bottom of my heart. You must not know that somewhere, someone, me, is also enduring the pain you have experienced.
Sometimes, I think of you. Happy, frustrated.
Nankang, you are a swaying yellow leaf, representing the coolness in autumn. As long as you think of deep love, it is you who comes out of your heart, and you dare not turn over easily. Nankang, spring is coming. Do you feel the warmth of sunshine and the greenery of Hunan water?
Nankang, I planted roses for you in my heart. I hope you live in the land of roses. Roses are roads, roses are homes, roses are vegetables, and roses are clothes. Only roses deserve you.
Tears, Nankang! ! Nankang! !
Reporter: Nankang Festival is not because of Qingming, but because I think about him, think about him and make sacrifices.
2011March 28th
Nankang San Ji
Nankang Nankang, is this Nankang?
In the far south, Qu Zi is Miluo, Jia Sheng is Yanjing, and you are Xiangjiang. Patriotism and love, the more eternal and inherited, open the same sad story and illuminate the spring scenery of human love.
Nankang, I am deeply saddened by your loss of life. I envy your true colors in the face of love and your courage to abandon everything. Nankang, you are gone, and we are still alive. Love is like a cage, which locks the true feelings in the world, but why do some people, such as me, have such a big gap in that cage, even if they are locked, they will leak out, leak out and be locked in?
There are endless troubles in the world, Nankang. You don't know. You only see love. But really love? I don't know if there is. Now I have it, longing for happiness, and working hard, who knows what the result will be. Nankang, I think when you face your parents, you must be selfish to leave. I don't blame you, but my parents gave me too much and didn't let me give up my parents' love, so I chose my wife. I will love her well and miss you when I am happy and sad.
Nankang, not long ago, death took my little cousin, a gentle and loving little cousin. When I think of him, I always smile when I was young. Hearing the news is different from knowing that you are leaving. I think of Yan's family, I think of you, fate, I will never be where one expects me to be. If I had known this result, would you still come to the south?
Nankang, you have gone far, but we are still on the shore. We will tell you whether we are happy or not, although you never know me.
Nankang, be safe!
20 12.6.9
Nian Nankang White Banner
Alas, alas, I miss Nankang again.
The river is cold and desolate.
Old Yan 'er, the tombstone is green.
The person I love is telling a big lie.
The forbidden area is full of thorns and flowers are scattered.
The promise of the past turned into a heartbreak.
Love is my heart, and I will never forget it.
The pain of bone erosion sank into the water.
Not 35, but vicissitudes.
20 14.5.3
Ji Nankang
You will be thirty-five years old this year. Can we meet by the river?
20 15.5.26
Sacrifice Nankang Baiqi
Today is your thirty-fifth birthday. You waited until you were 35.
Xiangjiang River is too cold, so let's go home. 20 15.5.26 Memorial Day Today is your 35th birthday, which is also the date agreed in your book. The river is frozen, so you'd better leave. May you be happy in the afterlife.
Sacrifice Nankang Baiqi
In the Xiangjiang River in March, the cold wind blows hard, and it is difficult to stop your insistence on going home.
Why don't you look back and know your lover is heartbroken?
Who has seen a fish float away and escort your body?
15 wandered alone, and the river was also retaining it.
Alas, you jumped away, still thinking about your boyfriend's feelings?
Did it ever occur to you before you jumped that you were sad at home?
After all, you have your choice. Maybe you want nothing but love.
After all, I have my own ideas. If I were you, I would rather wait for you all my life. ...
-Yesterday (May 26th), Nankang was thirty-five years old. One of his works is called "I will wait for you until you are thirty-five", but Nankang was already thrown into the river at the age of twenty-eight ... His heart was inexplicably desolate and he couldn't sleep all night. He ended his mourning early this morning and held a memorial service ... Nankang, I hope there is no trouble!
Nautical Essay 20 15.5
Nankang Baiqi
I hesitated for a long time before writing, nothing else, just to mourn or pay homage to the soul that I don't know where it is scattered.
The long-standing "I'll wait for you for thirty-five" was sung by Tangier. Without his skill, the apprentice of the old demon could not sing the sadness and faint relief of the lyrics. Yesterday was Nankang Bai Qi's thirty-fifth birthday-if you count the day of his death. That day was like an ordinary day, and it passed quickly. His birthday is nothing unusual in other people's lives, nothing to cry about, nothing to mourn deeply. This other person, I don't know if he has a boyfriend-once. As the lyrics say: "Don't be so cruel, some people want to get married, and some people are cold in the river;" Don't be so pious, whose soul floats on the river and refuses to sink. "On this day, I don't know who is unusual there. Many things in the world go all the way to black, and you never know what the ending is until the last moment. For example, my Hanfu revival, for example, your Nankang Baiqi. Seven years-how many seven years are there in life? I don't know. When the best years and the warmest and purest feelings are wasted, will people be crazy, will they ... beg for death? I don't know. There is no such affection in life, so I have always been unfaithful and have been in love for seven years, which I can't imagine. But even though I can't imagine it, I couldn't help crying when I learned about this person and this matter long after his death. Love is deep, and the other person is fickle. In another seven years, the hard stone heart will melt. What is the wish on the same day? It is unexpected and unexpected that homosexuality is so difficult in this land. It is so rugged that I can't tell whose fault it is. Maybe the other person has difficulties, maybe he is just tired of living a stable life, or maybe he is afraid that the road is too rough to see any light, and he can't reach the end, but he can't feel any temperature when he holds the other person's warm and soft hand! Even a little! If the people in this land were more tolerant, if the legal system showed more respect for human rights, the tragedy of seven years ago would not have happened, and those soft and warm hands would not have become stiff and cold, and the tragedy would not have happened because of this-whether it was once, now or in the future! There are so many tragedies, so many; So much pain, so much. Why not give them a little tolerance, a little encouragement and a little legal protection? Xiangjiang River is running away. I don't know if the soul of seven years ago was still listening to the river sobbing, and whether the frowning brows had been stretched. It's been thirty-five years since 1980. Maybe it's time to let it go. I'll wait for you to be thirty-five. Now I am willing to live a quiet and stable life. Postscript: This article is used to pay homage to Nankang Baiqi and his tragedy. I wanted to write this tragedy, but I gave up the idea after reading something. Perhaps he was complaining, but Nankang Baiqi said in his last words to Zhang: "May the years be quiet and the world be peaceful. "Maybe he still loves that man, loves him from the bottom of his bones, and has too much resentment when he doesn't want to die. It's not their fault after all. ——20 15. 5. 27/ Chusai Ballad 27 0 1:36
Kibaiqi
Jumped seven years ago, and the river cooled after seven years.
Qi, are you still home? Still waiting near Naihe Bridge?
Seven, thirty-five years old, it's time to grow up.
Hey, this is the last year. Promise me, after this year, really don't wait.
Hey, happy birthday.
The primitive years are quiet, and the afterlife is stable. Meet your lover in the afterlife.
20 15.6. 1
Southern Sacrifice 20 15.05.25—05.26
You are finally thirty-five years old. I thought about how long it feels to be seven years. Try to imagine that you were alone by the river seven years ago. At that time, I was still young and didn't understand that one day in that year, there was a light that would shake my soul seven years later, rising in the cold water of Xiangjiang River in March.
Many people have been waiting for you for seven years. And I really know you, is in the first half of your thirty-five years old. Hate late, but not too late.
I had the idea of writing a eulogy for you, but I hesitated for a long time. Maybe it's because of your special status I am also a person who cares about the opinions of people around me. You have more courage than I do. I think you can bear such great pressure. Am I afraid to say what I want to say? You have to be brave once.
When I first heard your story, you were like a drop of water in the sand in my heart, with only a slight tremor. But after thinking about your identity, savoring your situation and speculating your mood, the water drops in my heart are embedded deeper and deeper in the sand, leaving a deep mark that outsiders can't see.
It took me two days to read your last article completely-the one that made countless people cry the most. I like your writing very much, which is realistic, plain, clean and philosophical. With a little shallow mourning, I can see that your mourning is a kind of forbearance.
But they said that your previous writing was not like this, but playful and happy. I haven't had time to watch it, but I know what changed you, and I don't want to repeat your experience.
I think a person with such a beautiful and delicate writing will have a bright future if he has enough time.
But then I thought with heartache, nothing is possible. I'm even thinking that some people who chase your articles all day long really like your articles, some just care about your special life, some are really moved by your words, and some are just curious about your decision.
When you think about it, you feel that those curious people are hateful, and your stubbornness has become a bit ridiculous and pathetic.
I don't know why, I suddenly thought of Allen Mathison Turing, the Englishman who ended World War II at least two years earlier and saved 20 million lives.
As a student, I can't go to Changsha, which is far away from the southeast coast, and I can't go to see the big tributaries of the Yangtze River. I heard that you drifted in the river for 15 days, and I don't know why I was particularly excited about it. I think this last trip in your life on 15 must mean something, but I can't say it, and I dare not speculate.
You said you would wait until you were thirty-five. Why did you break your word? But on second thought, even if we wait until today, what can we do? The world can't guarantee your happiness. It may be a relief that you went.
There are many rules and regulations in the secular world, covered with the cloak of ethics. They don't understand these things or accept them, or they can understand but can't accept them. I don't know how you will write a clear and grateful sentence response when you see the condolences and blessings of those kind people on the Internet. But I understand that all the secular words and wisdom in the world are put on you in vain, which is an insult to your waiting, your obsession and your piety.
So, I can't bear to say more.
I only hope that these sincere people, who have been waiting for you for seven years, can redeem all their sins, whether they should be borne by you or not; May there be a hundred thousand fireworks in your afterlife, loved and cherished; I hope that after today, May 26th, 20 15, you will put everything down, forget everything, and let the unwilling soul drifting on the river rest in peace.
Did you hear that? These two days, the beam is filled with a song for you.
Did you hear that? Zi Gui is in the wilderness. Crow: It's better to go home! Why don't you go home?
Nankang, Nankang, go home! Go home!
Happy birthday. I hope to be happy and healthy in the far south.
Alas! Shang Xiang! (A cold fish with paddles)
Sacrifice to Nankang 20 15.06.08
On the dew, he Yixi. In the Ming dynasty, more dewdrops fell at sunrise, and people died and came back.
I sat cross-legged in the chair and suddenly didn't know what to say. Sometimes people don't know, maybe there is too much to say. There is a light rain outside the window, intermittent, just like the tears of survivors. When Li Guinian sang this song "Autumn Building", did he shed such weak tears and let them slightly wet people's cheeks in such a light rain?
Outside the window is the slowly winding Lianshui River, which will flow into the Xiangjiang River and kiss your lover in the boundless darkness. Perhaps rainy nights are the easiest to hook people's feelings, but few people always understand. I put down my legs and looked out of the window, writing such an article for someone at the table, and the cold white light of the desk lamp shone on the paper. A person once missed another person and waited for many seven years, but none of them was so long and painful. Then I was thirty-five, and now many people are missing someone. The rain began to get heavier, and at that time the room was filled with the sound of rain.
I used to like the poem Zhang Tailiu very much, but now I'm afraid. It says, "Zhang is too slippery, Zhang is too slippery, no matter whether it is green or not, even if you look old every year, you must climb into other people's hands." "
In fact, the willow itself is beautiful when it germinates, Nankang, do you remember?
At the Cold Food Festival, the tender buds of willow are often a symbol of the vitality of spring. There are always many willows blown by the wind by the Xiangjiang River in spring and March. I want to recall the scene, but my mind is blank. So the sound of knocking on the keyboard also stopped temporarily. As for the past, I don't want to talk about it.
There was some commotion outside the window. Some people say the rain has stopped. I looked at them at the window and saw a few people coming out of the eaves, leaving a mess after the rain. It turns out that the shower can stop so soon, and the wind and rain can go so soon. But it will take some time.
I think, maybe only alive, there will be hope to continue.