刹一提笔,竟如封冻般凝于笔尖——叙些什么? 又该从何叙起?忘记了有多久没有好好地提笔,只记得初中时一篇篇为了应试的命题作文,如潮地涌来, 排山倒海。我只会机械地思考机械地叙事,俨然忘了思想的精灵怎样在想象的空间畅游,如忘了怎样将自己如海的思泉倾注于笔下。由于疲乏,由于厌倦, Brake a pen, actually as frozen as condensate in the pen nib - what Syria? And from where the Syria? Forgot how long did not pick up the pen, just remember an article in junior high school for the exam essay essay, tide Incoming, overwhelming. I will only mechanically think of the mechanical narrative, just as forgetting how the elf of thought takes a dip in the space of imagination and forgetting how to devote himself to the contemplation of the sea. Due to fatigue, tired of,