Water Ghost of the Wharf｜How big is the rain in Zhuozhou, how bad is the heart?

How bad is the rain in Zhuozhou, how bad is the heart?

This may be a false proposition.

If a reporter’s interview based on conscience triggers a new round of public opinion, it is also unnecessary. The humanity expressed in the face of disaster is real, it’s just that it is usually ‘glossed over’ too well. Yesterday, I was drinking with a friend in the mountains, talking about how poets should live a romantic and affluent life, but in reality, it is a miserable sight. Poet Yu Zhenzhi was once hailed as the poorest poet when he was critically ill, with an average annual income of less than 20,000 yuan. In an era where poets can starve to death, it is predictable that many people in Zhuozhou will not be able to eat due to the flood.

Now, many people have learned to lie flat, but have forgotten how to tell the truth. The pain of telling the truth is shameful, and of course, society often defines telling the truth as ‘speaking without restraint’. People with conscience and who dare to speak the truth should not be blocked, and they should be given a way out. Recently, I have also seen many people on Douyin trying to donate to Zhuozhou. The floods in Hebei and Beijing also surprised me a bit. This ‘La Niña’ is not a foreign sweetheart, it is a veritable climate demon. Remember the moment the Titanic sank? The movie says: ‘Later, more than 700 people were waiting on the sea, waiting to live, waiting to die, waiting to repent, with no end in sight.’

Little Zhuozhou, now 5,000 people can’t eat. The heavy rain washed away their homes, and living is the only hope. People with conscience do not want them to be displaced, and even more do not want the evil of human nature to make them struggle. Of course, the Internet is now like a kaleidoscope, with all kinds of information being true and false. I, a home-based worker, can hardly leave my work site to go to the disaster area, and can only pay attention to Zhuozhou in my own way. To be more specific, I haven’t written poems recently, and the progress of the TV drama script is also a bit slow, all because of this perverted season this year. A friend asked me: ‘What is the meaning of life?’ I said, life is meaningless, and what awaits us in the end is death. Death is not a eulogy, nor is it a kind of luck. At that moment, I wavered, I don’t believe there is a savior in the world. What did it bring us? Nothing more than a tragic fate and painful choices.

A fish pond farmer in Zhuozhou recounts his helplessness, his business that he had worked hard for many years was still destroyed by the heavens. If our parents in office embezzle money through fraudulent donations and are involved in corruption, should they be shot? Of course, in this day and age, cases of this kind no longer involve the death penalty, and at most they will be sentenced to a few years. The moral judgment of the common people is meaningless, and may even bring trouble to themselves. I don’t want to lead the rhythm, because I have paid a heavy price for speaking. I will quote a sentence from Solzhenitsyn, he said: ‘Most people die in their twenties or thirties, because after that age, they are just shadows of themselves, and the rest of their lives are spent imitating themselves, repeating what they did, thought, loved, and hated in their lifetime, day after day, more mechanically and pretentiously.’

Maybe, I won’t live long either. This is not something I want, or something others don’t want, life never changes according to one’s will. Finally, I just want to say one sentence, I advise those bad people who are trying to embezzle disaster relief supplies: Open the granary and release the grain! Be a good person while you are still alive.