Chapter 8 old age-2

Ah, these things seem to be about the same.That is to say, at that time, as I mentioned just now, my life without will must be like goldfish shit. Whenever the goldfish swims, I will follow behind, and my relationship with the horse farm is also here Continued in an illusory state.However, eighty-eight nights 14. ——It's strange that the horse farm seems to be quite sensitive to the calendar.He would dejectedly say that today is Gengshen 15th, Buddha's Extinction Day 16th, but then immediately go on to say that today is Dragon Boat Festival 17th, and Dark Night Festival 18th, often muttering something that I don't understand.That day I was also at the rum shop in Ueno Park, surrounded by pregnant cats, green cherry trees, flying flowers, and caterpillars. I used my whole body to feel the warm and mellow late spring style brewed by these scenes, while drinking alone. After drinking, I suddenly realized that Dachang was wearing a luxurious green suit, and I didn't know when he was sitting behind me. "Today is eighty-eight nights." He finished in his low voice, stood up again as if feeling very embarrassed, his shoulders shook greatly.Then let's go to commemorate the 88th night, we laughed and made up this meaningless resolution, and the two of us went to Asakusa to drink together.That night gave me an unprecedented intimacy with the racecourse.After drinking at five or six hotels in Asakusa, Baba endlessly described the dispute between Dr. Prager and the Japanese music scene.Prager is a great man, why? When he murmured his reasons to himself again, I suddenly wanted to meet my lover and fidgeted.I also took the racecourse.I whispered to him and said, let's go to the slide show.Racecourse has never heard of slideshows.Very good, very good, let me be a senior today.Seeing that today is eighty-eight nights, I will take you there.While I smoothed out the jokes, I pushed into the car the stables that were still muttering about Prager, Prager.quick!Ah, the joy I always feel every time I cross this big river.Street with slideshow.On that street, the indistinguishable alleys extend in all directions like spider silk. There are houses on both sides of the alleys, and the small windows about one foot or two feet wide are full of young girls' tender smiles.As long as you step into this street, the burden on your shoulders will disappear in an instant, and everyone will completely forget about their own figures, and spend the night gracefully and calmly like an escaped criminal.It seemed that it was the first time I came to the racecourse, but I didn't show any surprise. I walked a short distance away from me at a leisurely pace, looking at the faces of the girls in the small windows on both sides one by one.Walked into the alley, walked out of the alley, turned into the alley, and reached the alley, I stopped and secretly touched the horse's waist and told him in a low voice, I like this girl.Well, from a long time ago.The girl I fell in love with didn't blink her eyes, and turned her small lower lip to the left at me.The horse farm also stopped, stretched his neck with both hands hanging down, stared at my lover carefully, and finally turned around and shouted.

"Yeah, very similar. Very similar." I just thought of it. "No, how can she compare with Xiaoju." I froze there.This reaction is really strange.A rather bravado answer. "This kind of thing can't be compared," Bachang said with a embarrassed smile, and immediately frowned again. "Oh, it's impossible to compare everything. It's mental stupidity." He seemed to be saying As if talking to himself, he walked forward slowly while talking.We didn't say a word in the car on the way back the next morning.There was a dignified atmosphere in the car, as if the two of them were about to fight if anyone opened their mouths.When the car squeezed into the crowd in Asakusa, and we finally regained the joyful mood of ordinary people, Baba spoke seriously.

"That woman told me that last night. She said, we are not as easy as you think." I try to put on an exaggerated smile.Baba smiled heartily, unlike usual, and patted my shoulder, "It's really the best street in Japan. Everyone lives with their heads held high and they don't feel inferior at all. I'm really surprised how serious they are every day." From that day on, I attached the racecourse to him like a family member, and even felt that this was the first time I had made friends in my life.However, while making friends, I also lost my lover.That really made her run away from me under unspeakably miserable circumstances, so I also became somewhat famous, and in the end even the boring name of Sano Jiro was given.This is because now, I can talk about these things indifferently. In fact, if I can’t laugh at the time, I still want to die.I have not been cured of the illness I got on Huan Lan Street, and I don’t know when it will become disabled; why do people have to live in this world, and those reasons are completely beyond my comprehension.Soon after the summer vacation, I returned to my hometown in the mountains of northern Honshu, two hundred miles away from Tokyo. Every day, every day, I lay on the wicker chair under the chestnut tree in the yard, and smoked seventy sticks every day in a trance. smoke.There was a letter from the racecourse.

thanks. For my sake, can you not die first.If you killed yourself, I'd be like, "Ah, you must be trying to make me feel guilty," secretly narcissistic like that.If you don't care about that, then you die.I was, no, and still have never been interested in life.But I won't kill myself, because I don't want to make others feel self-indulgent.I am waiting for sickness and disaster.But so far, my illnesses are only toothache and hemorrhoids, and I don't seem to be dying at all.There is no disaster at all.I kept the window of my room open all night, waiting for the robbers to come, and wishing I could die at the hands of the robbers, but the only thing that slipped through the window was moths, flying ants and unicorns, and an army of millions of mosquitoes. (You said: Oh, the same as me!) Hey, do you want to publish a book together?I want to write a book, pay off all the debts, and then fall asleep for three days and three nights.The so-called debt is my body that is riddled with holes.There was a big black hole of debt in my chest.If there is a book, this bottomless pit may be dug deeper, but that's fine.Anyway, I really want to find a reason for myself to step down.The name of the book is Pirates.I want to discuss the specific details with you before deciding, but I have already planned to make it an output-oriented magazine.The object is to find France.I remember that your ability in foreign languages ​​is quite good, so you will be responsible for translating the original manuscript we wrote into French.Also sent to Andre.Gide asked him to criticize.Ah, we can still argue directly with Valeri 20.Let's put Proust 21, who seems to be asleep, into a good mess. (You say: Unfortunately, Proust is dead.) Cocteau 22 is still alive.If only Hardig23 was still alive.How about sending it to Master Dikobula 24 to make him happy, he is so pitiful.

This fantasy is very pleasant.And it is not very difficult to implement. (The more I write, the more I feel that the words are poor. The weird style of the letter is not a narrative, a conversation, or a description. It is really incredible, but it is an independent and disgusting style. Sorry, what I said is true. Idiot.) I stayed up last night and did the math, and I could get a great book for three hundred yuan.This amount is probably enough for me to come out alone.You just write some poems to Paul.Fore 25 just look at it.I'm currently working on a four-movement symphony called Pirate Song.After it is finished, it can be published in this magazine, and I must make Ravel 26 feel ashamed.I repeat, it is not difficult to implement.As long as you have money, is there any reason why you can't achieve it?You, too, let your breasts be filled with your gorgeous fantasies.Not bad right. (I don’t know why at the end of a letter, I have to wish the other party good health. There are also strange stories in this world, such as people with bad brains, poorly written articles, and poorly spoken words. Only letters are written very well. .) By the way, is my letter well written?Or is it poorly written?goodbye.

This is a digression, I suddenly thought of it so I wrote it up.The age-old question, "Is 'knowing' counted as happiness?" Received by Jirozaemon Sano Counting horses at the racecourse. two pirates See Naples before dying! 27 The word "pirate" seems to be used to describe someone who plagiarizes a work. Is it okay?I asked the horse farm, and the horse farm immediately replied, "This is more interesting." LePirate, - the title of the magazine was decided first.Mallarmé 28 and Verlaine 29 also participated in LaBasoche, 30 Verhaeren 31, LaJeune Belgique, 32 others like LaSemaine, 33LeType. 34, all of which are bright red roses open in exotic art gardens.The organization magazine that the young artists of the past called the world.Ahh, so will we.At the end of the summer vacation, I went to Beijing in a hurry. The pirate fever at the racecourse was more intense than before, and finally I was infected by him. As long as the two of them met, they would be full of LePirate's brilliant fantasies... No, no, it's a specific plan painting.Spring, summer, autumn and winter are issued four times a year.Kikubo's layout is 35 to 60 pages.All snow copper paper.Members all wear pirate uniforms.The chest is always decorated with seasonal flowers.Password between members. — Never swear.What is happiness?Judgment is strictly prohibited.See Naples before dying!etc.The companion must be a beautiful young man in his twenties.Must have outstanding skills.To match the wisdom of TheYellowBook36, find a talented painter who can rival Beardsley37, and give him all the illustrations in the book.We don't need to rely on any international cultural promotion associations, but use our own hands to promote our art to foreign countries.As for the funds, the scheduled racecourse will give 200 yuan, I will give 100 yuan, and then let the other companions contribute about 200 yuan each.Companion, Baba intends to introduce to me a student of the Tokyo Art School named Satake Rokuro who is considered to be his relative.On that day, I visited Xiaoju’s sweet wine shop in Ueno Park at around four o’clock in the afternoon according to the time I made an appointment with the horse farm. The horse farm was already wearing a dark blue flying white singlet and small warehouse trousers 38. Sitting on a bench with a red carpet wait for me.At the foot of the racecourse, Xiaoju was wearing a bright red hemp belt with leaf patterns, a hairpin with white flowers on her head, and holding a lacquer basin for the waiter, squatting on the ground motionless and looking up at the face of the racecourse.The dark face of the racecourse was a little red and bright under the faint setting sun, and the evening mist shrouded the two of them mistyly, forming a somewhat strange scenery that exuded the breath of a fox. "Hi," I approached and called him, Xiaoju jumped up with a soft cry, and greeted me with her white teeth, but her plump cheeks became more and more red.I was a little at a loss as to what to do, so I blurted out unconsciously. "Did I bother you?" Xiaoju's expression turned to surprise for a moment, she looked at my face with serious eyes, then turned around immediately, covered her face with a basin and ran to the back of the store, like a doll manipulator action.While I watched her run in inexplicably, I sat down on the long bench, showing a shallow smirk.