Aloneness, Fear, and the Dearness of Being.


I walked to the public clinic in my neighborhood after breakfast that day to have the gauze on my right arm (which was balling-up already as it had stayed there for 5 goddamn days) taken off forever. As I was on my way, the expected unpleasant feeling of finally meeting the ugly scars out of 8 stitches was offset by my excitement about finally being able to have a proper bath in half a month. I felt calm, and alone. The aloneness, definitely not in a pathetic way, refers me to the aloneness I felt the moment I fell off that motorbike, lying in my own blood. I shall call it the “ultimate aloneness”. I realized people were piling around me asking whether I was okay, but knowing that I was getting help from warm-hearted strangers didn’t to the slightest degree lighten that aloneness I was feeling – the kind one would never had any idea of until one went through the sheer moment in peril of ceasing to live.

The aloneness, as I tried to reason it, was because the intense emotion, the tremble of soul after visiting the edge between being and not-being is in no way to be shared with anyone else, not even your closest ones. You may try with all the words you know and all the languages available , but you gathered it would be a doomed failure. You would never be satisfied enough with what you could possibly deliver, nor could you stop suspecting others when they claimed they understood. You had it all to yourself. It became a locked secret that you never intended to keep.

I insist that it has to be after I get rid of the last piece of bandage that I’ll start to put things down in words. Otherwise I can’t be chilled enough to look back and think over the whole incident, knowing that the leftover of the self-sympathy in my body would always come in the way to keep me from a neutral confession.

However, as I’m finally determined to give it a try now, when I close my eyes, retrieve my memory and replay that scene, the sense of alienation I spent so long to build up become flooded by the same old fear in an eye blink. So I just said it, fear. It was fear that swallowed me at that moment, so huge a fear that made me forget to pull the brake at my left hand, forget to let go of the accelerator at my right hand, forget to turn the vehicle around, forget everything I was supposed to do. I was completely absorbed in that dark-hole alike fear that I gave up doing anything but simply waited for it to happen — letting it be whatever it ought to be. (If I was gonna die, I would die. If I was gonna be a disabled ever after, I would have to live with that.) It happened, the “Bang!”, the crash. The process was very quick, but not quick enough. I waited for a while, confirmed with myself that I was still alive, then there started the unbearable pain.

Today as I revisited the scene, months after it, just as every single time I revisited it ever since it happened, I couldn’t help gasping at it with my heart rate going straight up as I had no choice but to go over that dreadful fear. It seems to not decrease at all as time goes by. I doubt if fears of this kind will ever fade away after all.

People say I was strong to bear with the whole thing. It wasn’t true. I was at my weakest, body and mind. I cried frequently, sometimes due to the pain, while other times I simply just wanted to.

But you see, I was actually unbelievably lucky, underneath all. My body got to retain its full function with no bones broken, and my face was miraculously unmarred. No, “lucky” is too superficial a word for my luckiness. I hold no intention to overrate or underestimate my luckiness, just as I’m not inclined to exaggerate or understate my unluckiness. Whatever it puts me through, to endure is the only fair solution I’m left with.

I have no answer for what alteration this incident exerted on me in specific terms. For all I can say, if there was one occurrence that revealed my earnestness for life I tried so hard to defy, this is it.





而这一刻,当我终于决心坐在电脑前,打算将这一切写下来,当我闭上眼睛,搜索着记忆,在脑中一帧一帧地回放事故的过程时,我在那么长时间里构筑起来的疏离感,顷刻便被溢出的恐惧所淹没。是的,无论我如何不愿承认,或者不敢提及,是恐惧。我被黑洞一样的恐惧吞没了,是恐惧令我在那一刻忘记按左手的刹车,忘记松掉右手的油门,忘记扭转车身的方向,忘记在那个境况中我本应该采取的一切行动,我被恐惧绑架着,放弃了挣扎,仅仅是等待着将要发生的一切。在那段时间里,我迅速地说服(其实是强迫)自己去接受一切可能的后果(如果我会死,那我就死好了,如果我会断手断脚,那世界上也只好多一个残废了)。我将一切决定权交了出去,保证自己必须服从于命运,然后,“砰!” 该发生的发生了。这个过程只有短短的几秒,却让人觉得拖得太长了。我等了一会儿,向自己确认了“我还活着”这件事,其后才轮到去感受一阵排山倒海的疼。





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