我在未來等你 英譯 SEQUENCE

For nearly 300 days, from last year to today, Ive done just one thing.

Finally, the new novel begins its third round of revisions today.

The first round of writing is the plot, written very fast, everyones character gradually formed in the plot.

The second round is about psychology, taking a good look at every sentence, every action, every reaction in the novel. In many afternoons and evenings, silly writers get angry, cry, and giggle with their characters because theres enough of them in the room. My colleagues pushed the door in and found me with tears in my eyes. They were more embarrassed than me.

Today began the third round, filling that world with memories. I wanted to recall these things after publication, but when I thought about it, I could not remember the details and pain now. There will be feelings of that time, but todays feeling is unique.

After the movie whos not lost in youth, I asked myself what I wanted to write about.

An idea came out at once, and raised its hand in a particularly childish way, as if to say: write me.

Whose youth is not lost has played a special role in my life, let me know that the original sincerity to write their own childish, can also find the same kind. In that book, the 30-year-old looked at the diary she had written when she was 20 and wrote about how she felt 10 years later.

Even if the previous text naive, but years of courage to face reading, can see their 10 years of growth.

Then it hit me: what would happen if I, 36, did meet my 17-year-old self? Its not a paper conversation, its a real face-to-face conversation.

What will the 36-year-old tell him seriously?

What questions do I want to ask the 17-year-old?

I would tell him, my life right now? Good job? Isnt that a little handsome? Do you have any savings? What car did you buy? What did I achieve in his dream? What have you given up? What friends are still there that are important to him? Or already scattered in the sea?

I want to ask all these questions, but more importantly, will he believe that Im really him in a decade or so?

I seriously thought, if a 70-year-old man came to me and said he was the future for me, would I believe it? Its silly to look alike, I mean can I really accept that? I dont think Ill believe in the future.

So I dont think my 17-year-old self would believe me now anyway. Hell think Im a liar.

Think of it as if its harder than writing about youth, love, struggle and so on. The first step is impossible to go out, and there is no future story to tell.

My co-worker accompanied me over and over the possibilities of the subject, and I watched as my 17-year-old self stood so implacably in the distance as if "I cant believe you."

Hey! I suddenly felt like, well, thats it. If you dont come over, Ill go over, and Ill stick close to you, and make you believe me.

The story began more than 200 days ago. The story takes place in southern hunan.

Hunan is my hometown - another popular name of chenzhou, meaning southern hunan.

17 years old protagonist, I call him L.

Hope he has lofty aspiration, hope he can be big and stupid, hope he is in the process of growing up facing the wind, along the way magnanimous.

In a few months, the novel will meet the world.

I dont know if L, then 17 years old, would have been known, would have been thought of as someone he knew in high school, or would he have remained stubbornly in his corner.Thats what I was like when I was 17, when I said, "I want you to talk to me, but you cant really understand me."

It never occurred to me that, at my age today, my 17-year-old self would accompany me in such a way as to talk, talk, sarcasm, sarcasm, and defiance.

L, in order to give you a life, a good future, I wrote a few hundred thousand words, stayed up many nights, red eyes many times, laughing many times.

Let me tell you this before very few people know you, and hope that in a few months you will be free to appear before everyone and take your own life. Then, you wont belong to me.

Okay, Im going to change it. See you in the story.

20, 2017