时间停止了

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• My father, who always appeared so distant, with a sternness that seemed rooted in the worries of all humanity. He was constantly trying to solve problems, always weighted down by the existence of evil and injustice. You have to fight. Not with violence but with your mind, not for people but for ideas. Fight and work for what you believe in. I wanted to scream but my jaw was locked. I had no air left inside, my lungs were made of stone. I sat on the step of the building hallway, leaned my head against the yellow wall, and cried. (查看原文)

  ZZ 2020-08-21 08:05:13

• But this was only a fragment of the whole truth. he was doing whatever he could to bury an unwavering pain under layer upon layer of work. He was simply attempting to escape his past. Reading his words, i was sad for the person who my father had been, the shambolic poet, the prankster, the unfortunate boy whose heart had been shattered. I cried on reading the gentle voice of that grieving young man, little more than a child. P 254 I have learned the useful skill of appearing to listen without letting the words get past my ears. i had to be able to hear without letting it affect me or betray my feelings. (查看原文)

  ZZ 2020-08-21 09:08:13

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