The cover of the revised edition was set on the day of the first heavy snowfall in Beijing.This photo is the printed cloth.Weird and beautiful flowers.A fissure with stitches running across it obliquely.It is a cotton dress that I often wear.That mark, if it is decorated with silver powder, looks like a wound.I once hesitated for the color: blue with green, or blue with red.A slight difference brings a completely different temperament feeling.Finally chose the former.Because it makes a book that shows a certain slowness and firmness. This is a book that has been reworked four years after it was published.

This book. .My second book. It was published in January 2001, and it has been reprinted nearly forty times until December 2004.Changed the cover three times.Thanks to my readers and editors, it has not disappeared in bookstores until now.Until now, it will launch a brand new version. It must be admitted that these short essays were basically written in 1998 and 1999, and it feels very far away.When I look back, I often feel ashamed.As if unable to admit that they were written by myself.There is even a desire to abandon them.Just like facing your own adolescence, you often feel a lot of twists and turns and feel lost.Anyone's adolescence has a bloody and cruel meaning.

And, are two rather special books.They are a marker at a turning point.These two books represent the end of my writing adolescence. Since then, I feel that in the writing and narrative, there is a huge territory that is closer to nothingness and gradually expands.have witnessed.Thought-of.Many will no longer speak out.So stay silent and restrained.And this is what I want.Like a flower tree full of branches, it rises and falls, blooms and falls.But there is a constant self-knowledge in samsara.It makes a person harmonize his heart and words, and the more he walks forward, the more peaceful he becomes.

Those words in the past no longer belong to me now, nor do they represent me now.But there's no denying it used to be a part of who I was. If it is not necessary, I seldom look back at the old books I wrote.I renounced them too quickly and mercilessly.This is probably an author's transformation in spirit and text.It is also an empty shell shed by time.The imprint is what it is about. Writing makes history.That is also the history of time.They are the past.Like a faded old photo.It's like a letter I wrote to myself.Like tears that disappear in water.Like a strong aromatic smell in memory.It's like closing your eyes to feel the light.Light shines in darkness.What was dark was the youthful time at that time.At the very beginning of departure.

Come out of the design room and wait for a taxi to go home.On the street at dusk, the twilight is deep and the lights are shining.Because I moved, the shoes were packed into boxes, so I only wore a pair of thin, dirty red sneakers all the time.Walk on icy and snowy roads. Beijing's winter is so bitterly cold, which makes people happy.Sneakers are girly.I saw my youth, rumbling and flashing by.Leaving a heart still like a rose, but also to wander the world. annie baby beijing December 2004