childish words In the old days, when people celebrated the New Year, there were red paper notes on the wall saying "look up and see happiness" and "Tongyanwuji".Here I use Tongyan Wuji as the topic, and there is nothing taboo to say, I am eager to spit it out quickly, but I plan to talk about my own affairs.When the primary school student came back from school, he excitedly narrated what he had seen and heard, how his teacher was eccentric, how Wang Debao was late, and how the classmate who sat on the same bench with him was deducted one point for being untidy.Talk endlessly, even though adults are too lazy to make comments, let him talk.I probably felt the sadness of this phenomenon when I was a child, and since then I have a taboo on talking to myself.Until now, when I talk to people, if they say I listen, I am always happy.If it was me who told people to listen, then I thought about it afterwards and always felt very uneasy, afraid that people would find it annoying.There is nothing to say if you really don’t have a belly, the only way is to go out and do something earth-shattering, and then write an autobiography, no one is afraid that no one will pay attention.This was originally a childish dream, but now I gradually understand it.There is very little hope of becoming a big shot who attracts worldwide attention and writing a personal autobiography.It's better to write down your own affairs anytime and anywhere, so as not to be too depressed. When you are old, once you can't copy it, you must be more nagging than anyone else.

However, the literature around me, me, and me will be scolded throughout.Recently I saw two sentences in an English book, borrowing to scold the kind of writers who are too interested in themselves, it is very accurate: they spend their whole life staring at their own navels, and trying to find them, but Others are also interested, so let them come and stare.I was a little skeptical if this was a navel exhibition, but I wrote it anyway. money I don't know if the custom of grasping the week has spread everywhere.When I was one year old, I routinely picked something out of a lacquer tray to predict my future aspirations.I took money like a little gold pound.My aunt remembered that, and another maid insisted that I was holding a pen. I don't know which one is more reliable.But anyway, it seems like I've always liked money since I was little.My mother was very surprised to find this layer, and she shook her head when she came, and said: People of their generation, my mother is a noble person. When she was rich, she never mentioned money, even when she was persecuted for money. Take money lightly.This spotless attitude aroused my disgust and encouraged me to go to the opposite side.Therefore, as soon as I learned the term money worship, I insisted that I was a money worshiper.

I like money, because I have never experienced the hardships of money. Although I have experienced some, compared with others who have really suffered, it is really nothing. I don’t know the disadvantages of money, but only know the benefits of money. When living at home, there is no need to worry about food and clothing, tuition fees, medical expenses, entertainment expenses, but I never have money in my hands.Because we were afraid that the children would buy snacks, our New Year's money was always put under the pillow and handed back to our father after the New Year, and we never thought of rebelling.Until I was sixteen or seventeen years old, I never went to the store alone to buy anything. I had no habits and no desires.

After watching the movie, I stood on the side of the street like a child recruited by the police station, waiting for the driver at home to recognize me. (I couldn’t find him because I couldn’t remember the number of the car at home.) This is me The only luxurious feeling in memories. The first time I made money in my life was when I was in middle school. I drew a cartoon and submitted it to the English-language Damei Evening News. The newspaper gave me five yuan, and I immediately went to buy a small-sized Danqi lipstick.My mother blamed me for not keeping that bill as a keepsake, but I'm not as emotional as she is.For me, money is money, and I can buy all kinds of things I want.

There are certain things which I feel should be mine, because I enjoy them better than others, because they give me great joy.Miansi dreamily plans a piece of clothing, and when it comes time to buy it, she has to think about it again and again. The process of thinking is also joyful amidst the pain.If there is too much money, there is no need to think about it; if there is no money at all, there is no need to think about it.My restrained pleasures belong to the petty bourgeoisie.Every time I see the words "Little Citizen", I suddenly think of myself, as if wearing such a red silk note on my chest.

I have been a self-reliant petty citizen for the past year.Regarding professional women, Su Qing said something like this: I looked at it myself, and I bought everything in the room, even a nail.But what joy is there in this?This is a wise saying, and after thinking about it several times, I just feel the desolation in it. I heard a woman puff her chest and say: I have supported myself since I was seventeen, and I have never used a man's money until I am thirty-one this year.It seems to be something to be proud of, but is it close to being angry? Until now, I still fully enjoy the joy of self-sufficiency, maybe because it is still new to me, I can't forget how when I was a child, I asked my father for money to pay the piano teacher's salary.I stood in front of the cigarette shop for a long, long time without getting an answer.Later I left my father and lived with my mother.Asking my mother for money was a kind and interesting thing at first, because I have always loved my mother with a romantic love.She is a beautiful and sensitive woman, and I rarely get in touch with her. She went abroad when I was four years old, and came back and left several times.In the eyes of children, she is distant and mysterious.There were two times when she took me out, and when she was crossing the road, she occasionally held my hand and felt a strange stimulation.But later, in her predicament, I reached out to ask her for money for three days and two days, I suffered for her temper, I suffered for my ingratitude, and those trivial embarrassments ruined my love little by little.

To be able to love someone to the point of asking him for change is a rigorous test. Bitter though it is, I love my job.Learn literary and martial arts, and sell to the emperor's family; in the past, the literati relied on the ruling class to make a living, but the situation is slightly different now. I am very happy that my parents are not the emperor's family, but the public who buy magazines.If you are not flattering the public, the public is really the most lovable employer, not so capricious and unpredictable; don't put on airs, treat people with sincerity, and will remember you for five or ten years for your little benefit.And the masses are abstract.If you must have a subject, of course you would rather have an abstract one.

Although the money I earned was not enough, I also stocked up some goods. Last year, I heard a friend prophesy: ​​Qiao Qirong, which has been out of market in recent years, will soon become fashionable, because in today’s Shanghai, women’s fashion can’t be changed. When we come up with new tricks, we must look to the memories of five years ago for inspiration.So I saved a few hundred yuan and bought a piece of Qiao Qi fleece material.Hoarding until now, I saw Qiao Qirong appearing in the market, and sent it to the consignment shop, but hoped that it could not be sold, so I could keep it for myself.

It's full of contradictions like this. Going to the street to buy vegetables, probably has a romantic attitude of a troubled son?However, recently, when an old vegetable seller weighed vegetables and put them in my net bag, he held the stumble of the net bag in his mouth for a while.I didn't feel anything strange while holding the wet tripper.I found something different from before, and I was very happy. It seemed like a little solid progress, and I couldn't explain why. wear Zhang Henshui's ideal can represent the ideal of ordinary people.He likes a woman wearing a blue cloth blouse, with a red silk cheongsam slightly exposed under the blouse, which is a little seductive in her innocence. I am not qualified to enter his novels, nor do I have the desire.

Because my mother loves to make clothes, my father once murmured: A person is not a clothes rack!One of my earliest memories is my mother standing in front of the mirror, pinning an emerald brooch on her green jacket, and I look up at her, envious, and can't wait to grow up.I said: at the age of eight, I want to comb my ass, at the age of ten, I want to wear high heels, and at the age of sixteen, I can eat zongzi, glutinous rice balls, and everything that is difficult to digest.The more impatient you are, the more you feel that the days are too long.The days of childhood were warm and slow, just like the sunshine on the pink velvet lining inside the old cotton shoes.

Sometimes I feel that the days go too fast, and I suddenly grow a lot taller. I can't wear the newly made foreign clothes, green and brocade, and I don't have a upper body even once.When I think of that dress later, I feel sad, thinking it is a lifelong regret. For a period of time, I lived under the rule of my stepmother, and I picked out her leftover clothes to wear, and I will never forget a dark red thin cotton gown, the color of ground beef, which I wore endlessly, as if my whole body had chilblains; Winter has passed, and it is such an abomination and shame to still have frostbite scars.Most of it is because of self-ashamedness, life in middle school is unpleasant, and I seldom make friends. After graduating from high school, I lived with my mother.My mother proposed a very fair solution; if you want to get married early, you don’t have to study, and use the tuition to dress yourself up; if you want to continue studying, you don’t have money to spend on clothes.I went to Hong Kong to study at university, and later I won two scholarships, which saved my mother a little money. I thought I could be free, so I made some clothes as I wanted, and I am still addicted to it to this day. In terms of color harmony, the Chinese have newly learned the two rules of contrast and harmony from the West. From a superficial point of view, contrast is red and green, and harmony is green and green.Little do they know that the conflict between two different greens is very obvious; the more the two kinds of silk are pushed and pulled a little, the more disturbing it is to see.Red and green contrast, there is a kind of gratifying stimulation.But the comparison is too straightforward, bright red and green, like a Christmas tree, lacking aftertaste.The Chinese also paid attention to clear contrasts in the past.There are two nursery rhymes: red and green, not enough; red and purple, a shit.In Jinpingmeili, Song Huilian, the daughter-in-law of the family, was wearing a big red coat and borrowed a purple skirt to wear. Ximenqing didn't like it, so he opened the box and found a blue one to make a skirt with her. Modern Chinese often say that people in the past did not know how to match colors.The comparisons of the ancients were not absolute, but varied, for example: sapphire blue with apple green, pine flower with bright red, light green with peach red.We have forgotten what we knew before. The delicate and complex harmony of the past can only be found in Japanese clothing materials.That's why I like to go shopping in Hongkou, but it's a pity that their clothes are rolled into cylindrical shapes like ancient paintings, and I can't visit them casually. I have to let the shop assistants slowly unroll them one by one.It would be embarrassing to mess up the whole store and end up buying nothing. The tailoring of the kimono is extremely complicated, and the looser patterns on the fabric are often buried, but the Chinese cheongsam with simple lines is made, which gives people a clearer impression. Japanese calico, one piece is a picture.When I bought it home, I often took it out for appreciation several times before handing it over to the tailor: the palm tree leaves half-covered the small Burmese temple, it was raining heavily, in the reddish-brown tropics; the pond in early summer, the water was covered with a layer of green film , floating duckweed and purple and white lilacs with broken stems, as if they should be filled in the Xiaoling of mourning Jiangnan; there is another one, the theme is flowers in the rain, on a white background, big purple flowers of the yin, dripping with water. . I also remember those who saw it but didn't buy it.There is a dark olive-green silk with large black shadows passing across it, full of wind and thunder.There is also a kind of silky Japanese material, light lake color, shining with wood grain and water pattern: at intervals along the road, two plum blossoms the size of tea bowls are placed on the water, painted with silver hooks on iron, like the colorful glass window paintings in medieval chapels, The red glass was framed with heavy iron rims. The most common colors on the market are all kinds of colors that cannot be named. Blue is not green, gray is not gray, yellow is not yellow. They can only be used as backgrounds. They are all neutral colors, also called protective colors, civilized colors, and called mixed colors.There are also mysterious and lovely ones in the mixed color, shining on the body like the sun in another universe.But I always feel that it’s not enough, it’s not enough, like Van Gogh’s painting, he painted sunflowers under the scorching sun in the south of France, he always felt that the coloring was not strong enough, so he piled up a lot of colors and raised them high, turning the oil painting into a relief. For the nonverbal, clothes are a speech, a pocket drama that goes with you.Living in such a self-made dramatic atmosphere, isn't it like a man in a set? (Chekhov's man in a suit always wears a raincoat and holds an umbrella to cover himself tightly. Even his watch has a watch pocket, and everything has a cover.) The drama of life is unhealthy.People like us who grew up in an urban culture always see pictures of the sea before seeing the sea; read love novels first and then know love; our experience of life is often second-round, with the help of man-made dramas , so it's hard to draw the line between life and the dramatization of life. One night, under the moon, I was walking in the corridor of the dormitory with a classmate. I was twelve years old and she was a few years older than me.She said: I am very good with you, but I don't know how you are?Because of the moon, because I was born to write novels.I solemnly said in a low voice: I am apart from my mother, only you.She was very moved, and even I was moved by myself. There is another thing that disturbs me too, it was earlier, I was five years old, and my mother was not in China at that time.My father's concubine is an older prostitute named Lao Ba, with a pale oval face and long skirts hanging down. She made me a fashionable snow-green velvet short jacket and long skirt, and presented to me. Said: Look at how well I treat you!When your mother made clothes for you, she always used old things to patch them together, how could she be willing to use the whole piece of velvet?Do you like me or like your mother?I said: I like you.Because I didn't lie this time, I feel even more bitter when I think about it. eat When I was a child, I often dreamed of eating Yunpian cake. As I ate it, the thin cake turned into paper. Apart from the astringency, I also felt an embarrassing sense of loss. I have always liked to eat the froth of milk. When drinking milk, I try to swallow the little white beads on the side of the bowl first. In Dream of the Red Chamber, Mother Jia asked Xue Baochai what operas she liked to listen to and what food she liked to eat.Baochai knew very well that the old people liked to watch lively dramas and eat sweet and rotten food, so they chose what their mother liked and said.I like to eat sweet and rotten like the old people.I don't like anything that is crisp and refreshing, such as pickled vegetables, pickled radishes, and toad cakes. I don't like melon seeds, and I don't eat delicate dishes such as fish and shrimp. The so-called Beef Village in Shanghai is a lovely place, clean and white, with a deep peach red note of xx yuan for soup meat and xx yuan for Philip on the tile wall.On the roof, the spherical big white lamp is covered with an anti-aircraft black cloth cover, lined with a big red lining.Very clear.The guys in white coats are all rosy and fat, smiling, with one foot on the bench, reading tabloids standing upright.Their eggplants are extra big, their onions are extra fragrant, and their pigs are extra deserving.There was a collapsed car parked at the door, and two pigs were brought in, neat and tidy, not yet peeled, with some blood stains on the tip of the mouth, and a line of belly was lifted, revealing the red lining. It is no longer should, no more legal, no more appropriate.I am willing to find a job in the beef farm, sitting in front of the computer and collecting money.There is a spiritual sanatorium with clean air.It's not okay to think too much about everything. adults Sitting on the tram, look up at the people standing in front of you. Most of them are handsome and have extraordinary looks, but their nostrils are seldom clean.So there is this sentence: No one can act as a hero in front of his subordinates. younger brother My brother was born beautiful and I am not at all.Everyone in our family regretted it when we were young, because such a small mouth, big eyes and long eyelashes were born on a boy's face, which was a waste of nothing.The elders love to ask him: Can you lend me your eyelashes?I will pay you back tomorrow.However, he always refused.Once, everyone said that someone's wife was so beautiful, and he asked: Is it as beautiful as me?People often make fun of his virginity. He was jealous of the pictures I drew, so he took them and tore them up or painted them with two black lines when no one was around.I can imagine the oppression he felt psychologically.I am one year older than him, can speak better than him, and have a better body than him. He can't eat what I can eat, and he can't do what I can do. When playing together, I always give advice.We are two brave generals who are used to fighting in Jinjiazhuang. My name is Yuehong, and his name is Xinghong. I use a sword, he uses two pairs of copper hammers, and there are many virtual partners.It was always dusk when the opening ceremony was held, and Aunt Jin was chopping vegetables in the public kitchen. Everyone had a full meal, and took advantage of the moonlight to climb over the hills to attack the barbarians.Occasionally on the road, I killed two tigers and robbed tiger eggs, which were big brocade blankets, cut open like hard-boiled eggs, but the yolks were round.My younger brother often does not listen to my instructions, so he quarrels.He can neither be commanded nor commanded, but he is really beautiful and lovely, and sometimes I let him make up a story: a traveler is chasing a tiger, chasing, chasing, chasing, running like the wind.Before he could finish speaking, I was too busy laughing, and I kissed him on the cheek, treating him like a little thing. After having a stepmother, I spent a lot of time living and studying, and it was rare to go home. I didn't know what kind of life my younger brother lived.Once on vacation, I was surprised to see him.He became tall and thin, wore a dirty blue smock, and rented a lot of comic books to read.I myself was reading Mu Shiying's The North and South Poles and the Demise of Ba Jin at that time, and I thought his taste needed to be corrected. I followed the crowd and slandered him so fiercely, but they turned around and persuaded me. Later, at the dinner table, my father slapped him for a small matter.I was so shocked that I covered my rice bowl with tears streaming down my face.My stepmother laughed and said: Hey, why are you crying?Not talking about you!You see, he didn't cry, but you did!I dropped the bowl and rushed to the bathroom next door, bolted the door, sobbing silently, I stood in front of the mirror, looked at my own stricken face, watched the tears streaming down, like a close-up in a movie .I gritted my teeth and said: I want revenge.One day I will have revenge. The glass window of the bathroom was facing the balcony. With a snap, a rubber ball jumped onto the glass and bounced back again.My younger brother plays football on the platform.He had forgotten about it.He was used to this kind of thing.I didn't cry any more, only a cold pang of sadness.