Xiaochun | “a lost diary”

Xiaochun has one regretful memory, which he has mentioned several times: he lost a notebook.

At the time, he was working at a late-night diner. During the early hours when there were fewer customers, after finishing his tasks, he would sit at a table outside the kitchen and write down some of his feelings in a notebook with a fountain pen. He was young then, full of emotions. He had only left his life and work in Xingtai, Hebei, two or three years earlier and had come to Dali. It was also around the time of a breakup, and with nothing to do to kill time and ease the pain, he decided to work at the late-night diner.

He had initially come to Dali because of a relationship, following his ex-girlfriend, and stayed in a youth hostel where he met many young people around his age, including Wang Yue and Chen Xiaoyu. They would sunbathe, hang out, and fall in love together. At that time, Chen Xiaoyu made a documentary called "Villagers by the Sea," which chronicled their lives during that period. Later, Xiaoyu went to Canada to study directing, and after returning, his film Sailing Away was selected as one of the final few for the FIRST Film Festival and was preparing for release. Wang Yue had already married and had children, while Xiaochun had opened a whisky bar, Spring Road Tavern, many years ago.

A while ago, I wrote about a cold meal from that time, which stirred up a memory of his life at the late-night diner:

“In an instant, I was transported back to the past. That was the golden era of my life. The ones who left are gone, and those who remain have grown old. When I think back, you were only my current age. Time really flies; you’ve grown old, and the tailor and I have both reached the age you were back then. Truly, thank you to everyone who appeared in my life and made me fuller, more sincere, happier, and more wonderful. It was so good.

I remember the first day I came into the kitchen to wash dishes for you. You asked me where I was from, what I was doing, if I was interested in the food industry, and if I wanted to try working at the late-night diner. That moment changed the course of my life.”

This is also how I feel. Meeting these people, experiencing these events, and keeping them in my memory are what made me who I am today. During that time, there were several important people who have since left. In the midst of changes and reflections, there’s also a sense of helplessness and loss, but through it all, I can feel the power of life.”

Without the notebook, it feels like that emotionally intense period of life has vanished, leaving only vague, general impressions. The memories in his mind have been overwritten by new content, and what’s unsettling is that it feels like he has become a completely different person, like the ship of Theseus, with most of its parts and even its shape replaced. He longs to go back and see his former self. If only he had that notebook, then he could meet with his past self. Unfortunately, the notebook was taken by someone, and with it, it took away the Xiaochun from that time.

Creating a place for Xiaochun to write his feelings down, a place to store his scattered thoughts, both from the past and the future. Maybe immature, maybe intense, maybe biased, but these are all small details, little things, and at least they’re sincere, which outweighs any pretense. I remember Shuyang once said that he doesn’t like all kinds of pretense. The very word makes him uncomfortable. He also said that Xiaochun’s narrative style is "legendary."

A few years ago, I met Xiaoyu when he came to Dali. We were chatting on the lawn of Xun Guang Farm, and he said: “What happens is important, but how you tell the story is just as important.” It was probably his experience with writing and filmmaking.

Jason

2023.04.12

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2023.2.18

by Xiaochun

In the past six months, I have been constantly reflecting on myself, and I’ve realized that I’ve already changed. My friends know I’ve changed, and I know they know I’ve changed.

The change toward a better direction must exist, but it’s so minimal that it’s hard to notice. More often, I’ve found myself growing increasingly annoyed with who I’ve become. Compared to my former self, my frankness, enthusiasm, sincerity, and purity have all diminished, but not by much. It’s like a piece of ice with impurities mixed in—it doesn’t affect the ice’s overall transparency, but those impurities are like a thorn in my throat.

I don’t know exactly when I changed, but I know that by the time I realize it, I must have changed long ago. It could be related to my unchanging life and work, or maybe my ability to learn. I’ve felt the stagnation of my personal growth. These changes have caused me pain, disappointment, and difficulty forgiving myself. But the truth is, there’s nothing I can do about it.

I’ve analyzed my subconscious through my actions and behavior, and these changes have social, work, and survival inertia factors. But these factors are too subtle—sometimes it’s a single word, sometimes it’s an unconscious gesture. After it happens, I suddenly realize how I ended up this way. I continue to dig into my inner subconscious and realize how much I’ve changed. It’s unintentional, but I admit that the subconscious doesn’t lie.

Moments of inner softness are becoming increasingly rare, and my sensitivity to surrounding things has decreased. In place of that is an increasing indifference as I drift further into a narrow, self-centered life and perception. I’m aware of all this, but it’s only awareness. These subtle changes make it difficult for me to find a way to correct them. I don’t know what I will eventually become, but all I can do is try to make the change slower.