Chapter 13 Toy

There is always a way.There is always a way, right?Holding the boat to the bridge with a natural and straight mood, welcoming each day and sending each day away, even so, no matter what you do, there are still times when you can’t do anything.Once it evolved to this point, I was blown back to my hometown like a kite with a broken string.Wearing everyday clothes, not even a hat, with his hands in his arms, he quietly walked into the entrance of his hometown two hundred miles away from Tokyo.Slowly opened the paper door of the living room of my hometown, and then stood on the threshold.My father was reading the political page of the newspaper in a low voice with a magnifying glass, and my mother was tailoring beside me. When they saw me, their faces changed and they stood up in unison.Sometimes, my mother would let out a shriek, staring at me for a long time, and found that I had pimples on my face and feet, and made sure that I was not a ghost. At this time, my father immediately turned into an angry ghost, The mother covered her face and wept.Because from the moment I left Tokyo, I pretended to be dead.No matter how severely abused by my father or how sadly my mother cried, after I listened to it, I only showed a puzzled smile. At a loss.

This summer is pretty much the same.I need three hundred yuan, to be precise, only two hundred and seventy-five yuan.I hate the days when I have no money. I think that as long as people are alive, they should treat guests and wear beautiful clothes.I know that the cash in my hometown is less than fifty yuan, but I know very well that there are thirty or twenty treasures hidden in the warehouse of my hometown.I intend to steal them.In fact, I've been back and forth three times, and this summer is the fourth time. As I write this article, I still have full confidence.The nerve-wracking question is what posture to take next.

For this novel named Toy, do I want to show a perfect posture or a model emotion?I try to use abstract things to express, cautiously, walking on eggshells, but I can't achieve any effect.If a truth is said, the preface is pressed again and again in the end, and long-winded notes are constantly added at the end.All that's left is headaches and fevers, ah, blah, blah, blah.And the urge to jump into the cesspit and drown yourself. Please trust me! I am now planning to write such a novel.There is a man named me who wants to awaken his childhood memories when he was three years old, two years old and one year old through some inconspicuous method.What I want to describe is the memory of the man when he was three years old, two years old and one year old, but it is definitely not a horror novel.Thinking of how much the average person is interested in the inexplicable behavior of infants, I spread out the paper and did nothing else.Therefore, the main content of this novel is to describe the memories of a man when he was three years old, two years old and one year old.There is no need to elaborate on the rest.The article begins with remembering when I was three years old, and slowly brings out various childhood memories, and then when I was two and one years old, I finally narrated the memories of my birth.Then slowly close the pen, and you're done.However, here comes the question of how to show a perfect posture?Or exemplary emotion?This headache.

The so-called perfect posture refers to the way the article is handled.Coax and deceive the other party, or appease them, and of course intimidate them, while telling the story, and when the time is right, let yourself suddenly disappear with a certain sentence full of deep meaning.No, it's not completely gone.Instead, I quickly hid behind the door, and soon, I reappeared from behind the door with an innocent smile. At this time, the other party's body was at my disposal.The so-called processing technique refers to this level of technology.That is, what a writer sincerely seeks to refine.I also don't like the attempt to subtly apply this treatment to the baby's memory story.

Here, I think it is necessary to clearly express my attitude.I had a premonition that the lie was about to be exposed. On the one hand, I showed that I was gradually moving away from perfection, but I was careful when I used the pen again and again, fearing that I would return to the state of demanding perfection and be hurt.The introductory lines were not deleted, left intact, and should have been noticed immediately.Moreover, it may be skillful sleight of hand to lock the opening lines firmly in the reader's mind with the golden lock of unwavering self-confidence. In fact, I plan to go back.Why did the man mentioned at the beginning want to recall his memory of three years old, two years old and one year old?Why can these memories be recalled?Also, when the memory is recalled, what fate will the man encounter?I have all these things in mind.I'm going to add baby memories at the end, so that I can create a novel with perfect gestures and exemplary emotions.

Don't be defensive about me anymore. Because I don't want to write anymore. Is it okay to write like this?If I only write about the memories of my infancy and you are willing to read it, I only write five or six lines a day and write it down very slowly, if you are willing to read it carefully All right!Congratulations to this meaningless work that I don’t know when it will be completed, and officially set off!I toast with you and sincerely bless you!Work begins immediately. I remember standing on the ground for the first time after birth.The blue sky after the rain, the black soil after the rain, and plum blossoms.This must be in the backyard.The woman's soft hands hugged my body there, and then quietly let me stand on the ground.I didn't care at all, and probably took two or three steps.Suddenly my vision captured the vastness of the ground extending infinitely forward, and the soles of my feet also captured the infinite depth of the ground. In an instant, my whole body froze, and my buttocks fell to the ground.I howled loudly as if on fire.It turned out to be an unbearable feeling of hunger.

These are all lies.I just remember that in the blue sky after the rain, a hazy rainbow appeared. If the name of a thing is appropriate, even if you don't listen carefully, you will understand it naturally.I, hear through my skin.When I stare blankly at an object, the words of that object tickle my skin.For example, thistle.I have no reaction to bad names.There are also some names, no matter how they sound, I still can't accept them.Let's say, people. In the winter when I was two years old, I had a crazy experience.I felt like fireworks the size of a red bean were exploding deep in my ears, and I covered my left and right ears with both hands without thinking.Then the ear no longer hears those voices.Only the sound of water gurgling in the distance can be heard from time to time.The tears kept flowing, and soon felt a slight tingling in the eyeballs, and then the color of the surroundings changed.I wondered if there was something like stained glass in the eyes?Wanted to get it out of the eye, several times I pinched the eyelid and there was nothing in it.I look at the fire in the hearth.Looking at it, the flames were suddenly dark.It seems to be watching the wonders of the Kumbu forest swaying with the waves on the bottom of the sea.The green flame is like a ribbon, while the yellow flame looks like a palace.However, when I finally saw the pure white flame like milk, I lost myself in seeing it.Oops, the kid is wet again, and every time he pisses, the kid keeps shivering.I don't remember knowing who murmured like that.Only then did I realize that I was in someone's arms.Suddenly feel a little embarrassed.This must be the joy that only emperors can enjoy.Trust me, no one will know.This was not a disparaging statement.

Same thing happened a second time.I sometimes talk to toys.In the late night when the autumn wind was howling, I asked the tumbler next to my pillow, "Tumbler, aren't you cold?"The tumbler replied: Not cold.I asked him again: Is it really not cold?The tumbler replied: Not cold.Really?not cold.Sleeping on the side, I don't know who looked at us and smiled.This kid seems to like tumblers very much.Has been watching the tumbler quietly. By the time the grown-ups had all fallen asleep, I knew there were forty or fifty mice running back and forth in the house.Occasionally there will be four or five blue generals ① crawling around on the tatami.But the adults snore frequently and sleep soundly, so they don't even know there is such a picture.The mouse and General Qing even ran on the floor, and the adults didn't know it.At night, I didn't close my eyes almost all night.Until dawn, before everyone woke up, they had a little sleep. (①Japanese Jin snake.)

I went crazy without anyone knowing, and returned to normal without anyone knowing. This happened when I was younger.Every time I watch the ears of wheat swaying in the wind in the wheat field, I always think of this incident.I found two horses under the wheat field.Red horse and black horse.Really have been patient.I felt empowered, even though the two horses were very close to me, ignoring my presence, which was rude to me, but I didn't even have room for dissatisfaction. I also saw another red horse.Maybe it was the same horse.Appears to be doing needlework.After a while, he would stand up again, patting the front of the kimono.Maybe it's to sweep away the excess thread layer.It bent down and pierced my cheek with a sewing needle.Said: child, will it hurt?Will it hurt?I'm dying of pain.

If you count on your fingers, my grandmother passed away eight months after I was born.The memory at that time is only a triangular gap cracked in the mist, from which the precious skin of the transparent sky of daytime can be peeped, and this impression is particularly clear.Grandma has a small face and body.The hair style is also small.Wearing a shrunken cotton kimono covered with a pattern of cherry blossom petals the size of sesame seeds.I was held in the arms of my grandmother, intoxicated by the refreshing aroma of spices, while watching the picture of crows frolicking in mid-air.Grandma yelled and threw me onto the tatami.I looked at my grandmother's face as I rolled and fell.Grandma's jaw trembled quite violently, and her white teeth rattled.After a while, the grandmother passed out face up.A lot of people gathered around her, and they all began to cry as weakly as bellworms.Lying side by side on the tatami with my grandmother, I quietly looked at the dead man's face.On the grandmother's old and fair face, there were small wrinkles from both ends of the forehead, and these skin ripples quickly spread to the whole face, and the grandmother's face was covered with wrinkles.When a person dies, wrinkles suddenly appear and move.Keep moving.The life of wrinkles.That's the article.Finally, I couldn't bear the stench from the dead body, and I crawled out of my grandmother's arms. (②Japanese cricket, also known as Admiralty.)

The lullaby my grandmother sang still rings in my ears.The fox is getting married, but the groom has disappeared.For the rest of the story, don't mention it.