搏斗集 2023 Struggle on the Cliff’s Edge 2023 第 11 篇 Section 11
十一月 我成长为了一株扶桑 November: I Grew into a Hibiscus Tree
返回 搏斗集 2023 Back to Struggle on the Cliff’s Edge 2023过去的我非常擅长应试，前十八年的人生中正反馈来得过于轻松，以至于我下意识地认为只要按部就班做事就能得到好的结果。然而，高考的挫败和大学的挑战让我不得不面对现实——绩点、科研竞赛、学生工作的结果让我不断内耗，陷入自我怀疑。虽然自我反思是不算坏事，但因此给我带来了巨大的痛苦。
In the past, I was exceptionally skilled at taking exams. Throughout the first eighteen years of my life, positive reinforcement arrived with such effortless ease that I subconsciously assumed following standard routines would inevitably yield triumphant outcomes. However, the setback of the Gaokao and the trials of university forced me to confront reality—GPAs, academic competitions, and student work triggered unrelenting internal friction, plunging me into self-doubt. While self-examination is hardly a vice, it inflicted excruciating torment upon me.
来到大学的第二年，我逐渐意识到，对我来说，成长并不等于变得更加冷静和成熟，而更像是适应正反馈延迟甚至消失的过程，是接受我并没有自己想象中那么聪明的过程。这真的是我想要的生活吗？难以肯定。所以我选择逃避，在学校里寻求书本的慰藉，我依旧相信学习虽是终身的，但人生不只是学习。
Arriving at my second year of college, I gradually realized that for me, maturation does not equate to becoming cooler and more collected; rather, it resembles an agonizing process of acclimating to delayed—or entirely vanishing—positive reinforcement, a process of accepting that I am not nearly as clever as I fancied. Is this truly the life I crave? It is difficult to say for certain. Thus, I choose evasion, seeking solace in books on campus. I still believe that while learning is lifelong, life is far more than mere study.
在学习的呼吸之间，当我想做些消遣时，却发现故友星散，新交淡淡。一个人读书，一个人观影，即使人类文化瑰宝也往往感到毫无意义。djy说大家似乎越来越内向，但学校里依然能见到许多活跃在各种活动中的人。我想，或许只是我对活动的需求不同了。我不再因活动而驱驰，而更注重时间与社交的品质，这也许就是孤单的原因吧。
Between the breaths of studying, whenever I seek a moment of diversion, I discover old friends scattered like constellations, while new acquaintances remain faint and detached. Reading in solitude, watching films in solitude—even the crowning monuments of human culture often feel hollow and meaningless. DJY remarked that everyone seems to be turning increasingly introverted, yet campus grounds remain populated by those hyperactive in diverse functions. Perhaps, I think, my personal demand for such activities has simply evolved. I no longer allow myself to be driven by events, prioritizing instead the caliber of time and companionship. Perhaps that is the root of this solitude.
之前调侃过自己是黛玉。昨天和我室友聊天，他说我龙珠是谁的漫画都不知道，却知道什么卡波蒂的圣诞忆旧集，简直不是常人。
I used to banter about being like Lin Daiyu. Yesterday chatting with my roommate, he pointed out that I had no clue who created the manga Dragon Ball, yet knew about Capote’s A Christmas Memory—concluding I was simply not a normal mortal.
我好像潜意识里有种对“文盲”的恐惧，折射到现实生活里就是那些文艺小资的东西都想去了解一下，这样的话好像我就成饱读诗书的黛玉了。等到迟来的王熙凤问我：最近读了什么书？听了什么歌？我就能对答如流。蛮好笑的，还在幻想贾宝玉对我一见钟情。可问题是看书看得多也并不算得上什么优于常人之处，和其他任何爱好是一样的，而且看的多不代表读进去了。
Subconsciously, I seem to harbor a visceral dread of being labeled “uncultured.” In daily life, this translates into an eagerness to dabble in every bourgeois, literary aesthetic—as though doing so would transform me into a book-steeped Daiyu. When the tardy Wang Xifeng eventually queries: What books have you read lately? What melodies have you been listening to? I would be able to answer fluently. It is rather comic: still fantasizing that Jia Baoyu will fall in love with me at first sight. Yet the paradox is that reading voraciously confers zero inherent superiority over anyone else; it is fundamentally indistinguishable from any other hobby, and reading widely hardly guarantees one has genuinely digested the substance.
我猛地发现那些满脸特别不在乎文学的人和我一样，而且读书读得越多的人越装得庸俗，越喜欢嘲笑文学青年。说到底文学青年就是高端赶时髦，听的歌看的书都是，不大众也不小众，随波逐流、装点门面。
I suddenly realized that those who pretend not to give a damn about literature are identical to me; indeed, the more books someone consumes, the more they feign vulgarity, mocking “literary youth” with relish. When stripped bare, “literary youth” is simply highbrow trend-chasing: the playlists and reading lists are neither genuinely mainstream nor truly niche—merely drifting with the tide to decorate the facade.
我差不多明白他们的意思了，文学是自己体会的，不用老是拿出来炫耀，而且越是那些半瓶子醋越喜欢拿出来晃荡。所以，我也开始喜欢拿文学青年骂人了。
I roughly understand their implication: literature is meant to be experienced privately, not perpetually hauled out for ostentatious display—and it is always the half-empty jar that sloshes the loudest. Consequently, I too have taken to using “literary youth” as an insult.
此外，身边总有很多让人难以理解的人，也许是专业，也许是环境，也许是出身，我也说不清。总之，我习惯刻意地保持着疏离的心境，做一株被人遗忘的扶桑。
Beyond that, my surroundings are constantly populated by individuals who defy comprehension—perhaps owing to majors, environment, or social background; I cannot say. In any case, I have grown accustomed to deliberately sustaining a detached, aloof composure, living as a forgotten hibiscus tree.
又来夜骑散心了，夜晚的环海路一片苍茫，正如我此刻的心境。
Out on another late-night bike ride to clear my head. The Huanhai Road at night stretches into vast, desolate obscurity, mirroring precisely my state of mind.