去长春,需要穿过N座城市,从最南边到最北边的长途硬座火车,犹如一次长达将近40小时的凌迟。或闭目养神,或托腮冥思,或辗转反侧,或变换一万种能够让自己稍稍舒适一点点的姿势。我都无法让自己的心真正安宁下来,我的灵魂也无法得到救赎。这不是夸张的修辞,而是事实的真实陈述。犹记得,一个蝉鸣的夏天午后,我懒散地趴在凌乱不堪的一沓沓试卷里。用飘逸凌厉的狂革即兴挥毫在我的数学本上。我并非自信,而是苟延残喘般地给自己最后一口新鲜空气。 To go to Changchun, need to cross the N city, from the far south to the far north of the long-distance hard train, like a nearly as late as 40 hours. Or turn a blind eye, or caress, or toss and turn, or transform ten thousand kinds to make yourself a bit comfortable position a little bit. I can not really rest my heart, my soul can not be redeemed. This is not an exaggerated rhetoric, but a true statement of fact. I still remember, a cicadas summer afternoon, I lazily lying in a mess mess of papers. With a flirtatious fierce mad improvisation in my math. I am not confident, but linger on to their last fresh air.