Almighty painter

Chapter 993 Anna's Kafka
As the modern philosopher Nietzsche said, "Only those who have endured the torments of hell have the power to build heaven."

—Preface to *The Complete Works of Kafka*, Central Compilation & Translation Press—

The SUV stopped at a point on the long street, and the atmosphere inside the car was as cold as a tomb.

Neither of them spoke or made any move.

A young man and a young woman sat on two separate armchairs across the central aisle, silent as statues, like Awang and August lying side by side after a battle, staring at the empty feeding tray, lingering there.

The plate represents possibility.

Where there's a plate, there's a possibility.

What if?
What if the silly machine malfunctions and the pet owner sets the wrong time? The next second, "ding!" and a new pure meat powder biscuit will tumble down.

As long as one remains by the feeding tray, this possibility seems to exist.

This cold, tomb-like carriage, like an empty plate licked clean, represents a possibility that is being anticipated.

Miss Elena exclaimed, "We can't continue working together!" Gu Weijing calmly replied, "Then I'm not the person you expected."

The art exhibition brochure was crumpled into pieces.

The topic crashed heavily to the ground, scattering debris everywhere.

But since neither of them left.

Then who can say that there is truly no possibility in this world of shaking a magic wand and saying "restore to normalcy"?

If you mispronounce the letter and say "F" instead of "S", when you open your eyes again, you might find yourself lying on the floor with a large Dutch cow standing on your chest, stomping its hooves and humming Mozart's Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

But if you pronounce it correctly.

that--

Perhaps the shards of porcelain scattered on the ground could fly back in time and be pieced together again to form an exquisite teacup.

The SUV remained stationary. Elliott watched the traffic flow on the long street, barely daring to breathe, and kept glancing furtively at the back seat through the rearview mirror.

Gu Weijing and Anna sat on chairs on opposite sides. Looking in the rearview mirror, there was nothing between them, yet it was as if a huge, indifferent glacier separated them.

Oh, it's not really empty; there's a round, chubby cat between the two of them!
Mr. Gu's plump tabby cat sat in the middle of the third row, right between the painter and his agent in the rearview mirror, grinding its teeth.

Elliott always felt that...

In the next second, the cat might meow and jump into the arms of one of the two people.

Perhaps Mr. Gu and Miss Elena will suddenly burst into laughter, continue discussing amusing anecdotes related to the art exhibition, and explore the exhibition setup; or perhaps they will mock Deckard Anlund or complain about the stinginess of the Maestro III...

Just like she had seen many days before.

It was as if the argument had never happened.

Elliot didn't want the two to part on bad terms. Gu Weijing had put in so much effort, and so had Miss Elena. This matter deserved a better ending. Elliot was also looking forward to Gu Weijing's art exhibition. This period had probably been the most fulfilling and satisfying time she had seen Miss Elena during the years she had worked for Anna.

As long as that door remains closed.

As long as the two people haven't separated.

This possibility... will always exist.

All they need is for one person to speak up, for them to turn their heads, make eye contact, pet the cat together, and discuss whether August bullied Awang or Awang bullied August.

And that was the end of it all.

“I find it strange—what right do you have to say these things to me?”

Elliott heard Anna, who was sitting in a chair, speak very softly.

"Judging from your tone, I thought the person sitting next to me today was Leonardo da Vinci. No, you are not Leonardo da Vinci, and you will never be Leonardo da Vinci."

“I told Williams that every time he picks up the violin from now on, he should remember that everything he had dreamed of since he was young was once placed before him. Unfortunately, he was not able to pick it up. He had the talent, but not the determination.”

"I will also send you the same words."

Awang, sitting in the back seat, suddenly raised his tail.

A fantastic match.

hard!
You can't back down.

The gong sounds, welcome to the mixed-gender open-fighting tournament! Last round, we enjoyed a fantastic performance by Gu Weijing; now, it's Miss Elena's turn. She enters the ring with her women's foil. This young Austrian fencer, though often in a wheelchair, has undergone years of fencing training since childhood and has extensive experience—

Wait, look carefully.

Miss Elena has made her move.

Correct.

Tick ​​his ears, flick his forehead, poke him, poke him hard!

The cat judge in the back seat nibbled on a chew stick filled with catnip, just like an otaku watching a TV broadcast while munching on potato chips.

"You don't have the willpower of an ordinary person, you don't have the willpower to achieve all this, you are a failure."

“Your father treated you like trash, forgetting about you from the moment you were born. So… you live in that fear every day. This is a psychological defect stemming from your family of origin.”

"You always have a habit of abandoning yourself. Just like trash always likes to throw itself into the garbage dump."

"You're obsessed with playing 'PLOM,' poor little old me, oh, poor and weak me."

Anna felt a strong wave of dizziness.

Perhaps it was this dizziness that made it almost impossible for her to understand what she was saying.

Perhaps it was because she understood what she was saying that she felt dizzy.

Is there ever a moment like this?

You feel a strong desire filling your heart, as if you are controlled by a demon, and you say things that are almost unforgivable to others, and even to yourself.
As you speak, you feel as if you've lost all weight, as if you're standing on the top of a towering building, looking down into an abyss.

Miss Elena felt the same way.

She was like an acrobat standing on the rooftop of the Empire State Building in New York, or like Miss Rose climbing over the railing to face the surging sea.

When Rose climbed over the Titanic's fence.

Will she feel dizzy?
Anna felt dizzy.

Anna felt angry, and Anna also felt fear.

Anger stems from your powerlessness over life, while fear... fear is the dizziness of fate.

Some argue that, philosophically speaking, the reason people are afraid of heights and feel dizzy when looking down from a high place is not essentially a natural fear of "height," but rather a natural fear of "possibility."

You suddenly realize that there is such a possibility—

You might fall, you might end it all, you might slam down on the ground and shatter into pieces.

That's why you feel dizzy.

On the giant ship in Singapore, she chatted with Gu Weijing, played cosplay games, and said "YOU JUMP, I JUMP" without feeling dizzy at all.

Because she knew deep down that this possibility didn't exist; she wouldn't "jump into the sea," she wouldn't end the social relationships she cared about just like that. Even if she did jump ten minutes later, she wouldn't feel dizzy.

Because she didn't climb over the fence to "end something".

just now.

Miss Elena climbed over the railing and faced the towering waves before her.

She was hurt by Gu Weijing's words.

And she, she could also let the other person experience that feeling.

As a child, Anna read books, especially the works of Kafka—the most famous novelist in the history of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

Kafka's novels are always filled with a group of lonely and desperate people, often accompanied by a strong tendency toward self-destruction.

Kafka's father often mocked Kafka's literary dreams, and he was trapped in a kind of intense father-son pain throughout his life.

Kafka wrote many, many stories of similar people hurting each other with the most vicious language. Kafka said that when he was writing these stories, he imagined how he would take revenge on his father, and he was immersed in a kind of intense pain and intense orgasmic pleasure.

dizzy.

When he wrote those hurtful stories, when he wrote those cruel and sharp satirical pieces, Kafka himself wasn't sure whether what he truly wanted to do was to cause pain to the other person, or whether, driven by a self-destructive tendency, he wanted to cause pain to himself.

Kafka said that his writing was nothing more than an attempt to express the things he couldn't say in your arms.

Miss Elena realized that she could hurt Gu Weijing viciously; she could do it.

She could hurt him deeply, hurt this ungrateful person, and break his heart.

He didn't want her to care, so she could end it all.

Miss Anna is cosplaying as Rose.

Miss Anna jumped into the towering waves.

She felt dizzy.

“My parents died in an accident in the Alps when I was very young. But I will always strive to be a truly strong and resolute person. Because only the truly strong and resolute can stand tall in this world and treat suffering as a touchstone of fate.”

"But you remained forever weak on that day."

"Only the truly strong and truly determined can reach the top. Because whether you like it or not, this is the reality of the art world. And you only choose to be a loser in the eyes of fate. This is a trial by fate, which will filter out the unsuitable people and throw them into the trash heap. No one can escape this trial of wealth; that's the rule of the game."

"Without the support of American collectors, Impressionism might have struggled to achieve its initial success at that time. If Frederick II hadn't been a fan of Bach, the story of Bach we see today might be very different."

"Van Gogh, Van Gogh, Van Gogh."

Anna said, "Do you think your personality is very Van Gogh-like?"

“Alright. We’ve talked so much about how great Van Gogh was, so perhaps it’s time to talk about something more realistic. Was Van Gogh’s life really that successful? Legend has it that Van Gogh was the kind of person who was so sentimental that he got into an argument with someone, shot himself on the eve of the exhibition’s opening, and died.”

"Now, it's time for you to abandon yourself again, at such a crucial moment."

Miss Elena stared at Gu Weijing's face.

She pursed her lips and said calmly, "If it were me, I think I definitely wouldn't say that to the agent who curates my projects."

Elliott grabbed the back of the chair.

“If you want to be Van Gogh, then be your own Van Gogh,” Anna said. “If you ask me, why don’t you just shoot yourself in the head too?”

"Why don't you leave?"

"I sentence you to death."
-

Gu Weijing opened the carriage door and walked out without saying a word.

As Miss Elena watched his retreating figure, she threw a small porcelain cup from the car's refrigerator with all her might. It was a birthday gift Gu Weijing had given her last Christmas, and she had jokingly remarked that it looked like Picasso's style.

This wasn't a compliment, because she thought Picasso's pottery was ugly, but... thank you, she liked it.

The cup smashed against the side of a roadside trash can.

It shattered into pieces all over the ground.

Miss Elena slammed the car door shut with a bang. She sat down, taking deep breaths. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, her mind still unsettled.

She wanted to find peace by throwing herself into the sea.

A jumble of emotions washed over her like ocean waves.

“Go back,” she said.

It was unclear whether he was instructing Elliott in the front row or speaking to himself.

Miss Elena opened the car window and enjoyed the cool evening breeze for a while.

She waved her hand.

"parking."

she said again.

"Just drive back. Don't wait for me, I want to go for a walk by myself."

After Anna finished speaking, she opened the car door, took out her folded cane from beside her wheelchair, and slowly walked alone in the night wind.

He looked lost and dejected.

Elliott thought about it with some difficulty.

"You drive back, I'll take care of things here."

The secretary also got out of the car, and Elliott slammed the car door shut.

She trailed far behind.

She watched Miss Elena stroll slowly, slowly, along the bustling street, finally stopping to lean against a lamppost.

Like a sloth that has lost its way, staring blankly at the lights of thousands of homes.

Huh?
These people are arguing happily, but haven't some people forgotten something?

Behind the triangular window at the back, a cat's paw was sticking to the glass. Awang watched as the cat owners, who had just finished their big fight and were exchanging trash talk, left their empty armchairs behind.

Meow, I haven't gotten off the bus yet, meow.

Does nobody want to play with the cat?
Awang thought about it.

It then focused on lying flat and licking its fur—

Awang doesn't want to walk; he wants to ride in the car. Now, this little palace-like car is Awang's personal palace.

It wagged its tail.

Let's set off.

Return to the palace.

(End of this chapter)