Remember a lazy person

There was a little room, with some bunnygrass in the corner, and a lazy man in the bed. What's his last name? Or he couldn't remember because he was too lazy to tell. Everyone called him lazy, and he didn't bother to deny it.

He was, in my experience, the first lazy man in the world, so I took note of him: it must be valuable to be on the Peerless spectrum.

Fortunately every man has a weakness, or I should be unable to associate with him; His weakness is that he likes a drink. Although he did not do anything because of his love of wine, but I gave him wine, he did not insist on the end of the mouth. Even better, after three cups, he was able to temporarily break the rule and talk to me. Can I spare a few bottles of wine? So I became his best friend. Naturally I must fill the cup and bring it to his lips before he will drink. Can I be a little less gallantry in order to induce him to talk? Besides, after three glasses, I only have to put the bottle under his hand, and he will fill it himself.

Some, if not all, of his words were strange and gratifying. And extremely naive, for his mind was lazy in collecting any words that were written in books or made by others. He has no common sense, so he doesn't hate. He is a treasure, indeed, in this wretched society.

According to him, he has been lazy since he was a child. He could not remember whether his father was blond or fair-faced: his father died when he was three; He didn't bother to ask Mom about Dad. He's Mama's boy, because she's too lazy to make a show of it. Other women give birth nine or ten months after conception. Lazy man's mother carried him for a year and a half because she was too lazy to give birth. His birthday, no one knows; Mother was the first to forget it, and naturally he could not remember to ask.

His mother died later, too, and he couldn't remember how to bury her. But he remembered his mother's face. Mother, although in the lazy heart, it is hard to avoid being missed; The lazy man sighed by the power of wine ten years did not sigh; Tears are finally too lazy to fall.

He has been to school. He was too lazy to remember everything, but he could not forget many little square words, because there was not a person in the school, from the headmaster to the students, who did not beat like a living monkey all day long; So he had to look at the little squares for comfort. The scariest memory is "the student". He wondered why his lazy mother had sent him to school, or whether she would have peace of mind because he was there. Pain often forces people to remember. He remembers the "students" -- live monkeys who pushed him, punched him, squeezed him, kicked him, cursed him and laughed at him. He is a piece of wood. The monkeys pushed him around. He seems to have graduated, too, but is too lazy to get a diploma. "In the end, there is a 'inaction' lingering in Lao Tzu's heart. I don't even have an ideal as big as the head of a pin." He had finished half a bottle of white wine and closed his eyes. "Human conflict is out of good actives: if people become osmanthus or plum blossom, the world when what kind of fragrant quiet beauty?" I deliberately induced him to talk.

He didn't seem to hear, or was deliberately too lazy to listen.

I decided that the next time I came, I'd bring brandy; It's gonna take more than plain old liquor to turn him on.

The brandy worked. He sat up. Usually he saluted me by closing his eyes and moving his eyebrows a little. Then I put the wine to his lips, and after three glasses he began to speak, but remained in bed. When the wine was finished, and I was leaving, he pointed to the bottle, which meant that I should remove it; Sometimes he can't even point to a bottle without thinking it's too much.

Brandy had won an unprecedented victory. He was sitting up! My surprise was like seeing the dead come to life. I'm going to question him.

"My friend," I said in a quaver, probably because of surprise and joy, "My friend, have you ever been lazy for a day or a day in your past?" "How many things can you do without being lazy all day?" His tongue is a little stiff. My heart liked it better: the tongue hardened by wine was the most sporty. "Well, have you ever been lazy?"

He didn't answer me right away. I could tell he was searching for his memory. There was something very close to a smile on his face -- it was only my guess; I had never seen him smile. After a long time, he nodded, drank another glass of wine, and said slowly:

"Once. It was a long, long time ago. If I were forty this year -- and not conscious of my own age -- I must have been in my twenties."

He paused again. I was terribly afraid that he would stop talking, but I dared not press him; I waited and I could hear my own heart beating.

"Tell me, what is enough to make a lazy man not lazy once?" "He asked me sharply.

I couldn't quite find the answer; I don't know how I remembered it, but I answered him correctly:

"Love, love can make people not lazy."

'You're a clever man! 'he said.

I took a gulp of brandy, too, and my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

His eyes closed as if he were looking at a picture being formed in his mind. Then the elephant read to himself, "I remember!"

I dare not breathe out of the air to wait.

"A crabapple tree," he might have described which picture he had in mind, "the first time I saw her was under the crabapple tree. It was full of flowers, like a great mass of snow under the blue sky, and surrounded by golden bees. I and she will lie under the tree, face toward the crabapple flowers, always have birds step down some flower pieces, like some snowflakes, fall on our face, she, that season, that is a teenager, I or some bigger than her. She's from mother's side of the family; Don't know what to call her, too lazy to ask. How long did we lie there? I don't remember. I just remember that it was the happiest day: listening to the sound of bees, eyes closed with the face to undertake the flower piece, the sun can not see under the shade, but the spring blowing the whole body, comfortable and warm. Like a couple of lovers buried in the spring, we'd better stay put until the universe collapses. She is my ideal person. She was like her mother -- love enjoyed in silence. Other women, when they saw flowers, they broke them, and when they saw mirrors, they caused confusion. She can appreciate love like flowers and trees; I hate bees. I'm busy all day. But the bees were good that day, and their buzz kept me half awake, half dead, half alive; Between life and death I find complete peace and happiness. This joy is lost the moment we open our eyes."

He paused for a moment and drank another half glass of wine. His words came quickly and smoothly: "The crabapple blossoms are broken, and she's gone. I think he went home. I think he. Before leaving that day, she and I in the crabapple tree - flowers have been broken, a tree of green leaves, small green begonia fruit with some yellow beard - each other watched the face of the red tide rise and fall, I do not know how many times. We're too lazy to talk. The eyes speak to everything." "She's gone," he said faster. "Of course I didn't bother to inquire, much less to seek her. When I think of her, I will lie down for a day under the crabapple tree. The next year when the flowers blossomed, she did not come, and the flowers were not at all as beautiful as last year, and the noise of the bees was even worse."

This time he pumped into the mouth of the bottle.

"I saw her again, and she's grown into a big girl. But, but, "he said, his eyes blinking ineffectually and getting a little wet," she has changed. As soon as she arrived, I sensed that she was too lively. She talked so much, too, that she hardly left me an opportunity to think of her quiet beauty in the old days. In the evening, she secretly asked me to meet under the crabapple tree. I did not move a step after sunset, but I promised her; Love makes people not lazy, you are a wise man. I shouldn't have kept the date, but I did. She's waiting for me under the tree. 'Are you still lazy? 'These were her first words, and I said nothing. 'Do you remember years ago, when we were under these flowers? 'she asked again, and I nodded -- out of necessity. 'Oh! 'she sighed,' If you could stop being lazy; Look at me! 'I said nothing. 'Well, you can not be lazy; If you're so lazy, why did you come to see me? You don't have to be lazy! Let's -- 'She did not go on. I did not speak. She wept and went away. I slept under the begonia all night, too lazy to move. She's gone again. Soon it was said that she was married. Soon after, I heard that she had been tortured to death by her husband. Laziness is bad for love. But she, she was not lazy and lost a flower of life! If I had obeyed her, it might have saved her, but it might have cost me my life. If she always does not change the habit of laziness, maybe we still lie with crabapple flowers, although not necessarily alive, but with lying in a place is alive, alive forever. Love is only love in pairs, and love never dies!"

'Do you still miss her? I asked.

"Well, that was the punishment for breaking the lazy rule! Once not lazy, life suffering; I'm not the laziest person." He lay down on the bed again.

I removed the bottle. He added: "If I should die, as lazy as I am, bury me under crabapple flowers and don't bother to buy a coffin. I can't be bothered to dream, but it seems as if I ought to lie down under the crabapple for ever -- with eternal punishment!"

After some time, I did bury him. A crabapple plant was temporarily planted on it; No one with crabapple trees gave me permission to bury anyone.