Eight Hundred and Seventy-Nine Fall Apart

The food in an unnamed bar was of no quality at all, the burgers were too dry, the fries were burnt, even the coffee was terrible, the only thing I could get my hands on was beer. However, Renly didn't care, and tasted his late lunch slowly, as if he was enjoying a distinguished dinner with three Michelin stars.

The busy bartender standing at the bar sighed miraculously, "God, are you sure you're all right? Even the homeless dislike our food, how can you still enjoy it so much? I can feel my stomach now. spasms."

"If you have no choice, either give up or enjoy." Renly shrugged and said with a smile, he threw a french fries into his mouth again, and then raised his chin, indicating that he was on the stage. The middle-aged man performing, "What's the matter with him? There are no customers in the bar now."

"Old Frank?" The bartender turned his head and looked over. "The plumber in town, just in his spare time, came here to perform, free of charge. He's a man with a story, are you interested?"

Turning around again, the bartender cast a questioning glance at Renly, and after getting a positive answer, he also temporarily put down the beer mug in his hand, put his hands on the bar, and began to tell, "I heard that he is young I was a musician at the time, you know, the kind who travels the world with a guitar on his back, performs in different cities, in different bars, earns a meager income, waits for his chance, and hopes that one day he can release an album and become a true singer. musician."

The bartender looked very young, but in his early twenties; and old Frank was very old, at least fifty years old. Therefore, the stories of the young years, falling into the mouth of the bartender, have become legends, with a hazy color.

"But, he failed," the bartender said flatly. "Obviously, not everyone is for music. So he went back to town in despair, became a plumber, and returned to everyday life. In our town , there's a lot about his youthful deeds, rumor has it that he's toured with Bob Dylan before, but... who knows?"

The bartender chuckled softly.

Dreams, in real life, mostly end in failure and disillusionment. The meaning of a dream is never in fulfillment, but in hope, a hope that makes life bearable and persevering.

Many people's so-called maturity is nothing but the edges and corners of the world have become worldly and practical. That is not maturity, it is premature aging of spirit and premature death of personality. True maturity should be the journey of a unique personality, the discovery of the true self, the spiritual results and the harvest.

People always say: dreams are impossible, dreams are unrealistic, dreams are illusory, and then they wantonly laugh at the foolishness and stubbornness of those dreamers, claiming to be the victors of life, Different ways adapt to the social context,

It's called maturity. But as everyone knows, they have gradually lost themselves in life.

This cannot be said to be wrong. After all, it is too hard to hold on to your dreams. If you give up your dreams and choose to compromise, things will be much simpler; what’s more, life is full of countless possibilities. Suffice it to say that, in the end, everyone makes their own choices, the dreamers are no more noble, and the real winners are no more successful.

Renly did not respond to the ridicule in the young bartender's words, and naturally had no intention of condemning or criticizing, but asked with a smile, "What kind of music did he perform when he was young?"

"Uh, I don't know." The bartender shook his head and spread his hands helplessly, "I only know that at Christmas last year, he heard an album, what was the name of it, I think about it, it seems like... …

I don't know, Don Quixote or something. Anyway, it's the name of a character in a novel. Then, he seemed to have a second life. Came to the bar, and the owner said that he hoped to come over to perform.

But, this is not an easy task, you have heard, his performance is really not very good, and finally, under his stalking, my boss agreed that he can come over in his spare time in the afternoon Show, free..."

The bartender was still babbling, but Renly's attention was drifting away, staring at old Frank on the stage.

In real life, people like Frank Sr. are the majority.

Embracing an unrealistic dream, desperately burning himself like a moth to a flame, trying to touch the outline of the dream; but, in the end, he failed, so he was mediocre to everyone and gradually became a younger generation. The loser in the mouth, it seems that the whole long life has achieved nothing, and it has become a negative teaching material. Everyone is taught, "Don't be like old Frank."

But few people know that old Frank's life was once so bright and radiant. He has experienced pain that ordinary people can't imagine, but he also experienced a world that ordinary people can't see. In his short life, he was happier and more fulfilled than most.

The album "Don Quixote" represents Heather, Renly, George, Stanley, and... old Frank.

Old Frank played the guitar attentively and hummed tunes. His old voice, occasionally out of tune, seemed to have lost the touch of pitch, but the story contained in his voice made his singing full of flavor. Maybe, he is not a good singer; but he is a good performer.

One song, another song; one wave of guests, another wave.

Old Frank sang so lonely and lonely, and no one in the whole bar listened, as if he was singing alone, quietly waiting for a listener to appear. Renly likes performances like this.

Another song is over. In sight, old Frank put down the guitar, sat in front of the piano, briefly adjusted a few notes, and then began to play. That prelude, it is "Cleopatra"!

A cheerful melody, ding-dong like a spring, moving and graceful musical symbols, dancing lightly in the afternoon laziness, old Frank's vicissitudes of voice sang, "I was Cleopatra, I was a young actor, when you fell on your knees by my bed and begged me to hold my hand..."

Renly sat there in a daze, listening quietly, savoring the music, time seemed to stop at his fingertips, the fragments of memories flew up and down, when the lyric came to his ear, " When I die alone, I won't miss it again", caught off guard, tears burst like this.

There was no warning, and there was no stopping it, so embarrassing.

The scalding tears were completely out of control and gushed out, and Renly sat quietly on the high stool, helpless, and did not even have the strength to raise his hand to wipe away the tears, but wept silently; vaguely. A large halo appeared in the sight, the gorgeous colors were surging, and the bitter sadness roared past.

The tears couldn't stop at all, Renly felt as if he had been wronged by the sky, his whole heart was curled up, the pain was so painful that he could hardly breathe, but he couldn't make a sound, just fell into a deep, deep despair. And in grief, the whole world begins to fall apart.

Heather passed away. Heather Cross, the smiling girl with bright eyes, left.

This fact hit the chest like a heavy hammer. He had been strong for too long, and had been calm for too long, but inadvertently, in an unprepared state, he was hit hard. All the real feelings, all the truths, all the certainties, surged out and drowned him in an instant. , there is no room for reaction, and there is no room to fight back, completely disarmed and surrendered, fragmented.

"Renly, you know what? I'm starting to like 'Cleopatra' now. Never got it before, but now, I get it. When I die alone, I won't miss it again. What the hell were you thinking when you wrote this song? God, I'm so jealous of you. You're a genius, you know? You're a genius."

crash, crash completely. I cried so hard I couldn't help myself. The girl who dreamed of music, the girl who sang "The Beast", the girl who complained that the flowering season was about to wither, the girl who smiled and said "Oh, I can't even confess to the boy I have a crush on" , she died.

She said she would not give up. She said it, but she broke her promise. He kept his promise, but she didn't. It's not fair.

He clenched his hands into fists and poured all his strength into them. His whole body trembled because of too much force, but even so, there was still no way to vent his inner anger and depression. That deep sense of powerlessness was overwhelmingly vented down, all the strengths, all the barriers, all the masks, all collapsed, like the end of the world, vigorous and majestic.

She didn't miss it, she didn't miss it after all.

He closed his eyes tightly, clenched his teeth tightly, and clenched his fists tightly, but he still couldn't stop the tears from collapsing. Until the end of the melody, the curtain of "Cleopatra" came to an end, and it became quiet again. There was a curl of sadness and bitterness in the air, bit by bit, repairing the wounds on the body.

In the tearful eyes, Renly seemed to see Heather again.

Wearing a long white lace dress, bathed in the golden sunlight, with her white feet on the green lawn, she ran wildly with vigor, her cheerful footsteps stepped on the laughter of silver bells, and she ran freely. Chasing the breeze, dancing gracefully, the sweet and green voice sang loudly.

"I won't miss it again, I won't miss it again, the love of my life. When I die alone, when I die alone, I won't miss it again."

The singing spread its wings, flying higher and farther; tired, tired, stopped, gasping for breath, turned around, a bright smile bloomed on the tender face, eyes full of eyes. With touching happiness, two pink blushes rose up on his white cheeks, and he shouted loudly, "Renly, do you hear me? I won't miss it again."

Renly's mouth was bitter, helpless, and tears were streaming down her face. The one and only Don Quixote left after all. .

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