Chapter 2 preface

In 2002, I didn't make a movie. From autumn to next spring, I spent almost a whole winter at home.For a person like me who is trying to catch my name, it is very painful to spend such a long period of time eating, drinking and having fun.So I decided to take the publisher's advice and write a book about myself. After the age of 40, my memory device began to automatically delete things that it didn't think were worth saving.This deletion is simply a big cleansing, which affects a wide range of people, and the extent of the damage is no less than that of the Anti-Rightist Movement in 1957.The method is also very simple and rude, without first greeting the parties, and without conducting investigation and analysis, the decision to delete was made without authorization.For example, it only retains the computing ability of "addition, subtraction, multiplication and division" for me, and all subsequent fractions and algebra are washed away.Another example is that I only remember something happened with someone, but I have no memory of when and where it happened.In this regard, the human brain is far less humane than the current computer. If you want to delete, you must first ask if you are YES. This approach of the human brain has brought great difficulties to my writing.In many cases, I think this is a road leading to the past. As I walk, the road is broken.In this case, I have two options. The first is to return along the original road and start on the road again; the second is to graft a new road and continue on.I chose the second course, because I found that almost no path to the past was complete.The memory keeps collapsing, which makes the upward steps stumble, and sometimes has to be repaired with experience.

From this I came to the conclusion that the human brain is unreliable.Things in memory are far from reality. Memory is like a piece of wood that has been pecked by bugs, filled with putty and painted many times.As time goes on, it is difficult for me to recognize which is wood, which is putty and which is paint.There may even be such a situation that I think the valuable part of the memory is actually the putty that was added in the early years, while the part that I ignored may be the original wood.This is what made me feel the most guilty when I wrote this book, but I can still tell readers that it is generally a piece of wood, not iron covered with wood grain paper.

This piece of wood is engraved with memories of my youth.There are wasted years, and there are also carp jumping over the dragon's gate; there are confessions about life, and there are nostalgia for friends.In writing, I encountered past events, reunited with friends, sometimes laughed and sometimes cried, and sometimes fell into deep self-blame. I found that my luck is so good. I have so many friends accompanying me on the journey, and among them, there are so many good teachers and helpful friends who give me opportunities and give me wisdom when I need help.What is even more valuable is that I have also received great tolerance from my friends.Let me see the brilliance of human nature.

I know this book can't be called real writing, it's just fragmented flashbacks.I also know that it may not be able to satisfy readers' curiosity, after all, I haven't the courage to walk in the world naked.I also know that every word and deed in the book may violate traditional values, and even arouse some people's resentment, but I did not expect to win the favor of everyone. The original intention of writing this book is to relieve boredom in the boring winter. After finishing writing, I suddenly realized that I have dedicated my youth to you.