Write a letter to 29-year-old Qian Hu and send it to heaven.

I wanted to write you a letter, but I hesitated for a long time.

Single loop in headphones is a song you recommended in Weibo, called Last Spring/Last Sound.

Good name, good music, small enough. There are only 57 comments.

This song has been circulating in my ear for three times, but I can't knock out a sentence "Hello, Qian Hu".

Not good at all.

If it is good enough, how can I know you like this?

Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what?

I also like the silent starry sky, black and white images, cold music, wine, Camus and writing my own dreams. ...

You can ride a motorcycle, but I can't. But the boy I like likes to travel by motorcycle.

There is also a cat in our studio. It is a proud orange cat with a strong breath (it has a bad stomach). Its name is Manager Huang.

I also write. You have published two books, and I don't know if or how long it will take me to see my own words turn into type.

I went to see the independent films released at the first Youth Film Exhibition, and I heard that your film was also shortlisted.

I know a friend who makes movies like you. We all live near Beijing.

In the village of the North Fifth Ring Road or in the loft Building, there are many people who paint, play music, design, perform arts or make movies like you.

Here, they are easily distinguished from the outside world, pigtails, tattoos, smoking, drinking and poverty, and are collectively called "artists" by local residents.

After you left, he sent a circle of friends saying that you-

"Like many people around us, like ourselves. Some people live in troubled times, and some people go to heaven and hell. "

I feel very sad when I see this sentence.

Most people's lives are horribly gloomy. You have to do everything you can to tear something apart and see something you think is beautiful, but then as long as you slack off, the gloom will pile up again.

Qian Hu

Your writing is very sad, and I happen to be a susceptible group that can absorb negative energy.

However, I don't envy those who play the warm-hearted little sun every day and praise the beauty of the world. Because I think people have emotions, and ups and downs are normal. People who have positive energy every day are either hypocritical or lack of understanding of life.

Sensitivity is also a gift. Refuse to mourn, refuse to get hurt, and then you will lose the opportunity to experience all the subtle beauty. Only when you are injured and have a gap can you accept the sunshine.

As you said in the book Cracks:

Everything has cracks, that's where the light comes in.

Talk about how to start writing.

You said that when you were at school, because you made a short film with strong philosophical temperament, your tutor criticized you for being "too artistic" and you were asked to imitate foreign commercial films.

You did it. Action, suspense, murder and ambiguity are all covered.

But then you said that you felt very painful and tortured by this compromise, so you locked yourself up and wrote.

You said: Literature is a very safe exit for me.

But this exit is actually not safe.

On September 5th, when you typed the last line at the end of an article, you said that you thought of the writer Luo Yijun's reply in his letter last year: But relax, writing is a space that needs to be crossed.

Travel narrative is a kind of spatial narrative without foundation, which brings people to the imaginary space. Similar to the psychedelic produced by marijuana, the mental trance caused by marijuana has experienced an imagination sublimation into the fragrance of language, in which the truly imagined substances in the text have completely evaporated.

I moved to my new home, where the wheels stopped. People who live here always drop the last drop of wine into their pupils. They looked vaguely at their wives and wives, but didn't look at them. The truck runs over my dream every night, which makes me wonder what I did wrong. I want to make a tree better, and I also want to give those clothes, stick a cloud on the side and row a boat at the elevator entrance. Where to go? Only half of the body can fall into the water and watch dozens of people standing in front of the window.

-Qian Hu's last poem

You don't have many fans, but everyone who has read your book on Douban has carefully written a book review. The score of crack is "7.7" and that of bullfrog is "8.5", which is not bad.

By the way, your Weibo fans have also increased. Previous interactions and comments were below double digits. After you left, many people lit candles in your Weibo.

This is the article that you forwarded the most comments in Weibo.

After you left, many people went to comment.

Some people say that you chose to leave this world because you are poor, some people say that your talent is not enough to support your ideals, and some people say that this world is too cold. ...

When I slid the mouse, I stopped at these two comments:

"It's like a person silently quitting a boring dinner."

"Think of people will die, should be more fearless when alive. Afraid to leave, afraid to starve, we will all die anyway. Sometimes I think talent is not a good thing. You have to be open to it, otherwise you can't afford to raise your talent at all. If there is an afterlife, I wish you to stop being so bitter, write happily, do what you want, and have plenty of food and clothing. "

"How long will we live (be hurt)?"

20 17 On February 24th, the famous photographer Ren Hang committed suicide by jumping off a building due to depression.

On April 27th, 20 17, Lin, a writer from Taiwan Province province, was found by the police to hang himself in his bedroom.

You finally ended your life with a rope.

You have been trying to promote new books and prepare new movies before your death.

In an interview, you said:

I want to write a novel in the winter of 17.

After your last spring, winter will never come again.

You will never hear from me.

The question of how long to live is left to us who are still alive.

I must live harder instead of you.

Qian Hu, also known as Paul Hu, graduated from the director department of Beijing Film Academy, and is a young writer, screenwriter and director.

He is the author of books such as "The Great Crack" and "Bullfrog". The novella The Great Crack won the first prize of the 6th World Chinese Film Novel Award in Taiwan Province Province. Directed and performed films such as Love in Blooming Cherry Blossoms, Elephant Sitting on the Floor, and Playscript Coming.

20 17 10 12, accidental death.

"In the future, I will carve a hanged man on my tombstone."

Qian Hu