I used to be a good boy, before I got out of the circle you have drawn for me.
I was also very good and very good, then I will do the homework and then go to play, I will worry about the test can not get full marks, will be in the test after the poor sad and discouraged, then I pay attention in class, never distracted, and not and classmates have too much contact, because that's what you call "fooling around", then I will watch TV to see the science and education documentary, rather than the current TV series, then I will call you a good boy, but not a bad boy, I will be a good boy. Instead of the current TV series, I would have called you "mom" instead of the current one-word title, and I would have looked forward to the return of the man called "dad", even though he would have beaten me for a small thing.... ...
At that time, I was eager to read, but you bought me a book? Heh, of course I bought it! Storybook ...... that's not what I wanted!
At that time, I said I wanted to learn painting, I wanted to learn to dance, but you said there was no money, I know that is an excuse, but I still did not mention it again.
At that time, I was very stupid, the results are not good, look at the students to go to tuition, I also want to go, and you said, you said that tuition is useless, so I have never made up a lesson until now.
At that time, I basically will not go out, stay at home all day, even play with friends are neighbors, are she to find me to play, I never looked for her, because then you said, to go to other people's homes will be trouble to others.
At that time, I will report to the teacher, expose those naughty students "bad behavior", because you hate them, said that no good, that is not a good student.
At that time, I was all your master, I have no right to choose, oh, so this is the "good boy"!
Now, I'm out of the circle you've drawn for me, so you say I'm growing up more and more disobedient.
Yeah, I'm not a good kid now. ......
I seem to be really bad now. I swear a lot, I yell at people and things I hate, I drink, I get into fights when I'm mad, I get into fights when I'm being bullied or when someone is pushing my buttons... Oh, and I don't know how to smoke, so does that count? Count me as not too bad ......
Can't remember how long I've been swearing, but I've had it under control in front of all of you, never in front of you. I really don't think there's anything wrong with drinking, I remember the first time I drank as if it was my 4th birthday, it was the guy I called dad who personally poured me a beer, I still remember how much it was, and that time I got drunk ah, it was the only time I got drunk ...... Fighting? I haven't fought in a group, so that shouldn't be too bad, right? The first fight was with the boy, the reason is not clear, but remember because you, I can not stand the bullying of others ......
This summer vacation, I often go out with classmates shopping, oh, no, you say this is called "fooling around," on the The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world, and then you'll be able to get your hands on some of the most popular ones. When I bought a dress while shopping, you said, "Is money for nothing? Don't you have clothes to wear? But what I want to say is that the pile of clothes you said, most of them are sent by others, I bought my own but just a few pieces, and other people's clothes, I'm wearing and inappropriate, not to mention, that a pile of clothes, there are a lot of children's, I feel that my clothes are far less than most of the people of the same age. ......
You're right.
You said to me, you are almost 16, you are a grown up, you need to understand, but, where do I not understand? Oh, it's that I don't listen to you in every single thing I guess! But I'm almost 16, why don't you give me some space? Why don't you give me the right to make my own decisions? I really hate people who go through my stuff without my permission, even if it's my parents. ......
I'm not a good kid, but I'm not a total bad kid either.
Does my leaving hurt you?
Under the same sky, I breathe your breath, but I can't feel your heartbeat of missing someone. I remember asking you the other day that if I left without saying goodbye one day, would you miss me? You said yes. I know, that is your basic courtesy to a common friend, I understand, thank you, but I want more than that.
Those who had said that they had feelings for me, now sound out of reach. If the words I heard were not sincere, I would have preferred to have never heard them. Maybe he wants just ambiguous ......
I came back, in the period of time away, suddenly found that the thoughts of the person gradually fade away. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it," he said. Almost a month, that person never sent me a message, also did not call, enough to prove that a person, he has no heart to you, even if again with the heart, but also can not become someone in his heart. No longer do needless to pay, he will not be touched, will not care, why bother. The first time I saw this is when I was a little girl, and I was a little girl, and I was a little girl.
Memory is money can not buy back. Once paid a sincere, the end is so miserable. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm sure I'll be able to do it," he said. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm going to be able to do it," he said. The actual fact is that the actual actual people are not going to be able to get a lot more than just a few of them! Oh, it should come eventually will come, is not it? I am no longer that young and wild child, can no longer afford to squander this gradually aging heart only a trace of peace. Or so to say, is not confident in themselves. Cake, I am so contradictory, how I hope you can give me courage again, in the lost intersection, how to find the way back? I remember you once said, "happiness, anger, sadness and joy is the melody of life, even if it is bitter and tired, you have to face it with a smile. Don't forget that there is someone who will silently bless me from afar." Whenever I think of this, I always have hot tears in my eyes. Cake, read you.
The tragedy of the woman, is always attached to the past lover and longing with the future man can be eternal. Two people together rely on fate, such as fate is no longer valid, separate is also a matter of course. Even so, I still believe in love, but no longer believe that love will have eternal. The first thing I'd like to say is that I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to do it.
Some things have to be forgotten. I think, everyone, is that way all the way over it. The first thing that you need to do is to get the best out of your life, and then you can go back to your old life, and then you can go back to your old life.
In fact, I have been entangled in this uneasy sentiment. The head tends to think of a problem: "Why do I have to be like this? Obviously said let go, why still think of that person?" Perhaps, not Lun male or female, everyone has a dark corner of the heart, there is a selfish and aggressive desire, always hope that there is someone who can not forget themselves.
Perhaps when things happen, will feel very sad, but after a period of time, look back to see this had broken the heart of the matter, will feel its precious, more grateful that day had been hurt by it, for it pain.
Thank you for making me grow up. I wish you happiness!
Why First Love Doesn't Work
Most people experience their first love in elementary or middle school, or even earlier, in kindergarten, when they feel the presence of the opposite sex.
I think it would be terrible if this type of first love had an ending. Because if you have a first love when you are in the second grade, and you keep going out with the other person, and then you get married and grow old together, then you will know no one else in your life except for your first love.
In short, "first love does not bear fruit" because it is an overwhelming responsibility to decide on a lifelong partner as a child! That's why God didn't let it have a happy ending!
The so-called first love, at best, is the object of affection when you are in kindergarten or elementary school, when you don't know much about the world, when you don't know much about it. It is not uncommon for people to meet their first love again at a reunion, only to be disappointed and think, "How could such a good-looking person..." or "Luckily, my first love is a good-looking person". Or "I'm glad my first love didn't work out!" In any case, it's too much to ask that the person you fell in love with when you were a child to develop into a marriage partner.
The first love is like a preparation for the upcoming period of love and marriage, something like BCG.
Before you get into a serious relationship, or before you get married, you should have developed an immunity to love! Although you have to be vaccinated to be immune, if the vaccine is too strong, you'll actually get sick. Very few people get physically and mentally exhausted when they first fall in love, so the first love with immunity is mostly just a light experience.
It is in the tears of first love that people realize that love is not all it's cracked up to be. Even if you feel sad at the time for a relationship that doesn't work out for you, when you grow up, the memories are just a faint pain in the ass.
The first love is the one that doesn't have an ending, but becomes a faint memory.
Thoughts on the wind
Sitting alone on the window pane, I quietly watched the leaves dance in the wind. Tonight, the wind is very strong, and the long raindrops with the wind together with the fluttering, the huge city dipped in a piece of autumn wind, autumn rain in the haze. I was drinking tea in the dim light, and my thoughts drifted out of the window on the autumn wind.
A narrow, narrow, green stone road, curved, leading to the foot of Dongshan, which is my way to Dongshan Elementary School. On September 1, twenty-three years ago today, I put on my mother's new clothes that she had sewn for me early in the morning, took my father's hand, and walked happily down this alley. From then on, I have formed an unbreakable bond with words and culture. I remember that day was also a stormy weather, the wind drifting not only rain and my father hummed the nursery rhyme for me: "small ah small children, carrying a schoolbag on the school ......"
The computer came the music of the book Lang, and I listened to my father back then. The same as I heard my father sing, many, many past events came to my mind, and a little bit of floating, and flew out of the window on the autumn wind. It turns out that these past events are not far away, still reside in the depths of my memory. The first time I saw this, I was able to see it in the back of my head.
In front of me is a lake, the rain fell into the lake like a line, disappeared; the wind blew the water surface, swung a burst of ripples. This is a lake that we are proud of the whole Dongshan - Taihu Lake. My mother loved Taihu Lake the most, and every time she returned to Dongshan, she would take me for a walk around the lake. The sound of the wind wandering low in the night sky, the reeds and bamboo leaves rustling in the wind, combined into a natural symphony, my mother said it was the most beautiful and beautiful song in the world.
My innocence, my childhood dreams, carefully hidden in a corner of Taihu Lake, the wind and rain for this watchful retreat, leaving a path to the direction of the heart. In the bottom of the heart, over and over again to smear the memory of the framed picture. Familiar Taihu Lake, familiar mother's bright smile, a flower like halo, and as a piece of rose petals scattered with the wind. I want to stop time, even if it's just for me to take one more look at your face.
Another gust of wind blew, my heart drifted to the foot of the East Mountain coach station, that is my most familiar place. I really remember the first time I left home from here to study abroad that year.
Some of the past is afraid to be touched, very solid pain. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good deal on this, but I'm sure you'll be able to get a good deal on this. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good look at this, but I'm sure you're going to be able to get a good look at this, and I'm sure you're going to be able to get a good look at this! From then on, I fell in love with the words, like to write in the prose of the heart; also from then on to know the preciousness of home, so every time I go home, even if the plain, but also cherish.
Countless times I went back to school in early fall, and it was an unforgettable day. I always waved my hand in a relaxed manner and said, "You guys go back. Hurry back, afraid to see the car behind the two waving hands reluctant to part with the figure, but also afraid of others to see the tears in my eyes. The car is traveling, my tears can no longer hold back, quietly and silently slipped down.
Every time I go home, I don't want to leave the two old men, they don't want to leave their son.
Now, I finally completely home, no longer drifting, and parents, where are you? Standing at home on the balcony looking forward to the bleak autumn wind, can send me a trace of their news, even if it is a trace of good ah.
The silent space is flowing with a slight throb, and the wind is quietly circling back in the silent place. A leaf drifted down in the silence, and said goodbye to the past years. The leaves fall slowly and calmly in the `gap' of time, lengthening and framing the sight of the mother tree watching.
The past hanging in front of the window, in the windy evening to savor. Some of the past, very sad, like a needle into my soul; and some of the past, but is incredibly warm, so that people remember a lifetime.
Moving from Dongshan to Shanghai, we lived in a Shikumen house in the southern city center near Chenghuangmiao. At that time, across the street from our house at the intersection of Fuxing East Road, there was a snack bar called "Dongfeng Eatery". Our family seemed to be particularly fond of yangchun noodles, and every Sunday, my father would take the whole family to the snack bar to eat yangchun noodles. I was always very happy and enjoyed it very much. The hot spring noodles were sprinkled with some scallions and were fragrant, and the noodles were smooth and slippery. My father taught me to use chopsticks to roll up the thin noodles and then slowly put them into my mouth, oh, both delicious and fun. My mother sat across the table and watched us, father and son, and she was the most kind then. But I was not satisfied with always eating spring noodles, and I reminded my father that he also wanted to eat wontons, which at least had a bit of meat flavor. But my father firmly refused, saying that wontons are too expensive, and not eaten, the same ten cents, Yangchun noodles eat full, while wontons can only be stuffed teeth. Every Sunday morning our family will go to eat Yangchun noodles, because this is our holiday, the whole six days we are waiting for this day.
Memory is a beauty that passes forward, gradually leaving and growing old.
In a trance it seems that some things are not willing to throw away, but also inexorably hard inserted somewhere, even if a pair of good flight wings are born, can not be recovered, unsurpassed.
And the only thing I can do is to ride the wind back, and keep looking back.
Ride an autumn wind, bring my thoughts, will be your name, a stroke carved on it. The first thing I want to do is to make sure that I have a good understanding of what I'm doing and what I'm not doing.
The more I feel about the roughness and hardness of life, the more I feel that even if it's gorgeous, it's still weak. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new pair of shoes or boots, and then you'll be able to get your hands on a new pair of shoes or boots, and then you'll be able to get your hands on a new pair of shoes or boots.
A late twilight, a thought
Walking in the street, the buildings on both sides of the road with me relatively stationary, rows of trees I can not name neatly arranged to show the majesty of life inviolable. The hustle and bustle was recognized by a hooting and hollering that came at me in a frenzy. The hustle and bustle mixed with the unique smell of the city came at me, and I could only set my feet and imagine myself as a speck of dust outside of the seven senses, floating in the quiet sixth dimension. Time, however, was out of space, disturbing the heavenly sounds of this world. It was all I could do to put on my headphones and listen to a few familiar tunes to ward off another voice ravaging my disoriented pace. It was all I could do; I couldn't let my sluggish steps become a lifetime of thoughts as the twilight sea raged on. So I softly chanted, "One late step, one twilight, one thought."
Along the street, non-stop roaming steps, two eyes constantly scanning the roadside stores and unfamiliar pedestrians. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world, and you'll be able to do it all in one place. Putting his hands in the pockets of his pants, he nimbly avoided the businessmen wearing gorgeous clothes. Two headphones roared incessantly in my earholes, exhaling some sort of rhythmic melody to match my advance. Standing with the crowd by the intersection waiting for the green light that indicated my direction, I knew I should walk through. Surfing into the crowd, striding along without watching for cars. Caught in the crowd, I felt safe, felt that I could still walk along this road late in the day, pining for some familiar stranger.
Crossing an intersection on the second ring road, I realized that the old and old house beside the road looked so familiar. The first time I saw this was when I was a student at the University of California, Berkeley, and I was a student at the University of California, Berkeley. I have rented the top of the hut, cramped space, narrow alleyway. There is no window, only a room of darkness. A gray wall, the traces of age mottled, dead moss yellow, clinging to the wall. I had wondered if it was listening to some kind of sound that we could not hear. This sound connects to desolation, to coldness, to decay. I leaned down, rested my face against the wall, and heard sirens on the road, errant footsteps, moans of pain. Soon my face stiffened, my body heat frozen in an instant, my body unconscious, my legs trembling uncontrollably. The gray wall sucked in my body heat, eating away at it a little. My body temperature, a lonely flavor, a lonely blackness, a residual heat without nourishment. This temperature doesn't come from the earth, doesn't come from everything, doesn't come from emotions, it's just a thought that grows along with my body. It survives in the night, late in the thoughts.
Moving away from my face, detached white ashes cling to my face, I gently wipe, they slide vertically. They slide along my footprints, slide along my thoughts, slide along the late sky. They float in the air, like a white flower blooming in the lonely vertical space. I know they don't want to, but that is the direction of their lives. They have no choice, only by obeying can their love take root in the ground. Only by being obedient can they break free from the shackles of time and become freedom fighters in space. In fact, they are very much like dandelions, having the same skin. But their thoughts are too heavy, their lonely nights too late. Therefore, they fall, they flutter, they are lost.
Turn away and move on. A long alley appeared in front of my eyes, uneven ground, dirty standing water, old buildings, a group of busy people. On both sides, transactions are going on all the time, not to be disturbed. Cheap sneakers, low-quality clothing, loud music, none of these can hook my desire. Occasionally look up at the sky, look at the roadside baked sweet potato old man, look at the ragged clothes of the homeless. Everything here has nothing to do with me. I'm not directly involved, I'm just a passerby who will indirectly miss it. The reason why I pass by there is because the alley that I can't see the end of at a glance is the direction of my footsteps, the end of my haste. There will be the peace I want, the freedom I want, and the thoughts I want.
Gradually to the end, I was a little disappointed, the alley was I looked through. Looking at a wasteland not far away, I was a little excited. It should be part of the serenity, the noise has long been at the foot of the clouds. The quietness of this place was something I loved, my ears deserved a rest after hearing too many sounds, they needed it. At the end, a few small buildings sat peacefully, blocking my progress. Disheartened, I sat down on a rock and slowly tilted my head up, a few kites flew in the white sky. I rose with interest and walked into an abandoned deserted garden. As I stood at the entrance, I thought to myself that it was a couple of innocent children flying kites happily. As I walked in, a few elderly men in their late teens were scattered in several corners, tilting their heads and flying kites. Sometimes they were reeling in their lines, sometimes they were letting go, sometimes they were moving forward, sometimes they were moving backward. I stood by and enjoyed the show and did not applaud them. I knew very well that they, like me, were doing it for the sake of silence, for a belated thought.
I walk alone in the deserted garden, full of withered weeds standing quietly, they give me quiet, they seem to know what I want. Maybe in some corner I forgot, we once knew each other. Perhaps in some cold, empty field, we once knew each other. They look at me and I don't recognize them. Their eyes seem to be laced with some kind of hope that I will remember something I have forgotten. There is a slight cold breeze, and small flowers clustered on long-dried stems flutter in the direction of the wind. A clump of weeds for the deserted garden added a few points of coldness, this feeling is like a late twilight, like no root of the thoughts.
The kite flew higher and higher, and gradually lost its way in the sky. A few old people have not lost half of their excitement, two or three kites were caught by the branches of the tree helplessly stayed in the tree. Under the sky, a hovering eagle kite tricked my eyes. I closed my eyes, it swooped down and rushed to me, took my thoughts and threw them outside the deserted garden in the late twilight.
So I sang "one late, one twilight, one thought, one thought" and turned away.
The New Marriage and the Home
Unmarried cohabitation or trial marriages were the subject of much discussion in the press in the last two years. But in recent times it seems to have disappeared - everyone is trying to catch the train to get married, and it's too much of a luxury to play unmarried cohabitation at this time!
Marriage is married, but not into the "state" of the people are quite a lot. The so-called state, of course, including after marriage to buy food cooking chores to do housework to engage in hygiene and no alone time personal space ...... this state, all the free habitual people are instinctive refusal. So, some people will come up with a new marriage relationship - separation.
There is such a pair of friends. For the husband to live in the unit divided into small suites, home from work to find a bunch of dead friends playing tractor to watch soccer, I don't know how to live happily ever after. The wife still lives in her mother's home as her daughter. However, on weekends, the two will fly to the outskirts of the city's nest, vacation. Their love nest is all open-plan and has an amazing home theater, which makes us all go there from time to time to scratch our heads. It is said that the theory behind their separation is "long time divided, long time united, long time divided", so they can't help but argue and fight with each other all day long. As for having children? I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that.
Some people will notice that a few famous developments outside the city are suddenly bustling with activity on Saturdays and Sundays, and there are a lot of pairs of people on the streets and paths, and it is said that many of them are living apart.
Other than that, I think the people who do the renovation and building materials will surely be full of love for the separation of the family, at least they have more houses, and the money is naturally spent more.