"On May, Monday, the target went out to do some shopping... and had a few words with the busker at the vegetable market. Other than that, everything is normal!"
"Tuesday, everything is fine!"
"On Wednesday, the target ate at Daddy Hooper's restaurant...everything was normal..."
"Target is going to start a new creation on Thursday...I bought a blank notebook, pen, and ink in the store...keep observing..."
"Friday, everything is fine!"
"On Saturday, the target began to improvise...mostly at the beginning of poems and poems...it is impossible to determine whether it is contaminated, so please observe carefully...the samples have been sent for inspection..."
"On Sunday, the target fell into a feverish writing state...not sure whether it was accompanied by delirium...prepared for forced interference...After 30 seconds, the target returned to normal, suspended interference...report..."
——Excerpt from Love’s Investigator Diary.
…
"Finally... this ascetic from the East, the doom warlock from the West, his true spirit exploded and entered the embrace of the River Styx?"
"What weird stuff am I writing?"
Luo Ka looked at what he had written with some confusion.
In other words, there is a little ending, but the front is more graffiti, poetry... It's a bit confusing.
Literary creation must already have a structure in the author's mind before it is formed into words.
But when he looked at his words, he felt very... strange!
Even though he had written the ending, Rocca had no memory of conceiving the beginning or the middle.
Thinking back to the writing state just now... this reminded him a little of the first time he was drunk. It was when he had just graduated from the liberal arts college and was filled with a large glass of "rum bomb" by several friends.
', a drink made of sparkling liqueur mixed with high-purity spirits, which can cause the drinker to faint and become unconscious.
The writing state I was in just now was somewhat similar to drinking until my memory was broken, and I couldn't remember what happened at all.
"Since that time, the condition seems to have become more serious..."
Roca muttered, opened the drawer, found a huge brown glass pill bottle, took out a white pill, and swallowed it with cold water.
His attending doctor told him that he had mild mental problems, but he didn't need to worry too much. Taking medicine regularly could relieve the symptoms. Moreover, most urbanites in this era have some physical or psychological diseases, which is normal.
.
"I don't feel normal at all..."
Roca tore out a page from the notebook, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it accurately into the wastebasket that was already half full.
As a freelance writer, the royalties earned from regular submissions to newspapers, magazines, and publishing houses are his only source of livelihood, paying for his house rent, daily expenses, and medical expenses...
"Well... if the situation is more serious, do I need to enter a mental hospital for recuperation? No... once you go to that place, you can't get out, because you can't prove that you are mentally sane... and there are high hospitalization expenses.
,Wait a minute, why do mentally ill patients still care about the cost?"
Luo Ka was amused by his random thoughts and felt that it could be used as a joke in a new novel.
Well, although he is a writer, he can write anything.
It is the main source, but not every one can be recognized by the publisher.
In addition, poems are relatively short, consume less space, and are more likely to be favored by some literary magazines.
Although the manuscript fee is not much, it is a powerful supplement in times of embarrassment.
In addition, he even wrote frivolous press releases for some tabloids, which was beneath the author's dignity, but for the sake of livelihood... At least when publishing, Rocca changed his pen name.
"That time... what happened?"
After taking the medicine, Luo Ka rubbed his eyebrows and said, "I seem to have forgotten some things... But the doctor said that it was a traumatic reaction. Don't force your memory, but accept it slowly..."
He felt a little groggy in his head, as he always did after taking medicine, so he fell directly on the bed and snored soon after.
Whoosh!
The evening breeze was blowing and the windows were opened.
A dark figure jumped in from the window and picked up the scratch paper Roca had left on the table.
…
Roca is dreaming.
It seems to be a strange adventure. If it can be written down, it should attract some attention.
But the picture flashed too fast, and the characters seemed to be covered with a layer of mist, making it difficult to see clearly.
Moreover, there are only some broken fragments, which hardly brings any inspiration, and it is also very tiring!
However, tonight's dream seems a little different. Which character seems to have become a little clearer?
the next day.
Luo Ka got up and saw that everything in the room was still the same as last night. He subconsciously shouted: "Attribute column?!"
There was silence all around.
There was no light curtain appearing in front of his eyes.
"Why do I suddenly want to say this term? Because I am a middle school student? Or do I want to confirm that I am special?"
Roca shook his head and laughed. He walked to the restaurant, opened the heavy and thick refrigerator, sniffed the milk inside, and thought it was okay. He nodded, poured himself a glass, and put two pieces of oatmeal bread into the toaster to bake.
.
Ding!
The two pieces of bread that had been baked jumped up automatically. Roca took them out, dipped them in tomato sauce, and made them into a simple sandwich. When combined with milk, it became a breakfast.
If the manuscript fee was sufficient, he would also choose to add a piece of fried bacon or eggs to it, but now, Rocca is troubled by nightmares and needs to pay a large sum of medical bills, and his living standard has inevitably dropped.
"But as a writer, even a down-and-out writer still has freedom!"
Rocca drove the second-hand car he bought with an installment loan and prepared to go to a few of his friends.
They regularly hold cultural salons, activities similar to book clubs, to exchange writing experiences and techniques with each other.
The people involved are not only authors, but also painters and musicians... Although most of them can only perform on the street, considering Roca's own status, that's about it.
If you can attract one or two wealthy businessmen or ladies from high society, it will be regarded as a very honorable thing by the organizer, and it will be worth bragging about for many days.
While driving, Luo Ka felt the strong wind flowing through his ears, and felt that the dizziness in his head was relieved a lot: "I seemed to hear that name yesterday... It's a bit strange... Fang Xian?... No, no, it should be
Fang Xian?"
"Well, it's a strange name. If he were to be the protagonist, readers wouldn't accept it, right?"
"But maybe we can change his name and write an article about it?"