Chapter 21 self image

I went back to Shanghai again. Traveling outside for 20 years seems to be laboriously walking along a big circle, and the starting point and the ending point seem to be connected unexpectedly.Overlapping, it seems that a period of life has been completed quite satisfactorily. What was left behind was a real circle, a round pool built layer by layer with care.Perhaps, if the water in the pool is sealed too carefully, it will no longer flow, and it will gradually become chaotic, and it will become difficult to see clearly what is contained in the round pool surrounded by itself.Of course, there is really no need to clarify.Just leave it vague like this.

Temporarily borrowing someone else's small house of about ten square meters, it is a three-story gray building, which has been in disrepair for a long time and looks old, but the structure is good.The steel windows of the hut are in the shape of a small arc, with five fans, and each fan is divided into five small lattices. "Five. Five. Twenty-five." My son and I counted the pieces of glass that needed to be cleaned, just like playing the kind of "play house" game that we loved to play when we were little girls. Suddenly captured the feeling of "playing house" and playing games, and the heavy mood suddenly brightened.This is probably the first time I have learned to make myself light. For this reason, I really want to reward myself: fill a pocket full of money, go to the most high-end clothing store, and spend a sum of money for myself in style. Pen, enjoy it once and for all.It's a pity that "thinking" only belongs to thinking, that's all, it's not really "stylish" and "happy".The "new life" that started again seems to be repeating something: every day is still trivially rushing to pick up and drop off my son to school; lattice.

Really can't change it! Before coming to Shanghai, some friends told me thousands of times and took care of me: Don’t always suffer yourself, just change your way of life. From the bottom of my heart, I envy some people's chic way of life, doing things with ease, being indifferent to the world, and being able to have fun.Besides, there is a very fashionable "line" nowadays, playing movies, novels, and life; some people play it really well, make a splash, and turn others upside down, and they just play with themselves again .Tasting such a word of "play", it is inevitable to have inferiority complex by comparison, and it is inevitable to sigh that you are living too old.too heavy.But no matter whether you feel inferior or sigh, you will never learn to "play" or learn to be unrestrained.

Similarly, when writing novels, people can write them intoxicated, and read them out loud when they are proud.It seems that I have never been in such a state. I am always dissatisfied and have to change over and over again.A short story with tens of thousands of words often wastes the manuscript paper that can write a novella; the novella part that has been completed has often written the number of words of a long novel; So many, so many words are in vain!" Those piles of waste paper were sent to his son at once, so that he could learn to draw with scribbles behind his back.In the end, my son lived up to the scrap paper and won the third place in the Beijing Thousand People Children's Painting Competition, but his own novel was still mediocre and not very good.

Also give birth to sons, look at those young women who are peacefully resting in a warm nest early like a hen hatching chicks, raising them comfortably and peacefully.At this moment, it should be the time when women are most qualified to withdraw their spoils and give orders willfully. The mission they are undertaking is enough to condescend like a queen in front of their husbands.In my memory, there seems to have never been such a "noble" moment. Even before giving birth, I still had to hold the quilt on my knees to write the graduation play; A friend used a bicycle to borrow a house outside Deshengmen; he was forced to copy his graduation thesis while he was confinement, he was forced to go to the college to argue about the assignment, and he was forced to go to the personnel department to resolve his son's household registration and milk card.

Fortunately, I was really young at that time, and I didn't think the hard work was unbearable.Although I dragged my family and lived in a shockproof shed.It’s a small courtyard, but life contains a lot of anticipation and inspiring hope after all—you have just graduated from college, your son has just been born, a decent novel has just been published, and the brewing of future life has just begun.For two or three years, I was completely like a blind horse pulling the novel and my son.The "stone mill" supported by the three fulcrums of the house, step by step, circle by circle, day by day, can't calculate the mileage, can't estimate the cost, and never want to calculate and estimate.Because the purpose is very simple.It's very simple: as long as the "stone mill" does not stop rolling, even if it is heavy or slow.Finally, my son is getting older every day, and the novels are getting more and more every year.Occasionally, when I think about these achievements that can be called "brilliant" for myself, I can see a little bit of myself who has been entangled with "stone mill" for a long time and too deeply, and then I feel a little bit comforted and confident.But a son is a son after all, and a novel is a novel at best.Is there anything else in life, and a self who is almost overwhelmed by his son and novels?

There is a child who often reads my novels and often writes letters. Recently, there is another letter. The lines are very childish, but they say some stupid words, "...maybe, the more a woman pays, the more she gets. The rewards are less. You work too hard, and you have reduced yourself to the status of a servant. No one thinks that you still need help and warmth. You need love. Because you are a person who bears a burden and refuses to move forward, you Seems strong. But just seems..." This girl has aura.Sensitive and intelligent, she can write poems and cook a table of delicious dishes. She is thin but runs around with great interest.Although she keeps calling me "Teacher Lu"; even though she has not published so many novels, every time I read her letter, I always feel ashamed.She said it really sharply: "seems powerful." I was shocked by the word "seems".

If you look deeply, it seems powerful.The "Son and the Novel" that can be optimistic, just conceals a certain inferiority complex hidden in the heart.Cowardly and to myself.pessimism about life. The "plenty of fruit" of "son and novel" is sometimes like a shield, which is obviously one's own avoidance of oneself, one-sidedness of oneself towards oneself, and lack of regret of one's own self.Two years ago, it could have been very beautiful.It is very eye-catching to take a walk on the street with a smart and beautiful son.When showing off, I found that I didn't have the smug energy that "showing off" must have; two years ago, I could be very proud.It is very impressive to take out a book after another to communicate with people, but suddenly feel so timid and afraid of dealing with people.What about the little bit of masturbation and self-confidence you once had?The "self" seems to be shrinking invisibly, and it seems that the silkworm is inextricably entangled by its own achievements without a trace after spinning its silk.Great and sad.

So, someone came up and said, Lu Xing'er, it's all because you are too greedy. You want a novel, a son, and a husband! The man said it jokingly, not in a serious way.But in my ears, there is a sense of alertness that suddenly dawns on me.A deep undercurrent floated up again in the bottom of my heart.There are many differences between people, especially the living conditions.The living environment is different.So, someone can have life in every way.Own the business, own everything.Some people can't, no matter how hard they try, the natural limitations are like a natural obstacle, which is insurmountable.Is this the so-called "fate"?Yes, don't be too greedy!I can only warn myself.

People, probably have to be more self-aware.If you are too greedy, you may not really be able to get everything, but often only increase countless confusions that you cannot extricate yourself from.I began to weigh calmly: a son is absolutely unavoidable, and the novel is like a "thief ship", once on board, it is not easy to escape.What's more, what else can you do if you don't write novels?What's more, how can you support your son if you don't write novels?The rest is the husband.Women are all the same, always expecting to depend on their destination.I can't be an exception either.

The trade-offs were disappointing.I found that I was actually so stubborn, so plausibly refused to change my greediness.It turns out that it is very difficult for people to change fundamentally, like a spinning top that can only slide on its own track according to inertia anyway; it turns out that people have to bear a heavy burden to survive; it turns out that people can't get rid of themselves and their own perplexities after all. But after all, it deviates from the "track" slightly.When I left Beijing and came to Shanghai, I left without saying goodbye to many friends, including that little friend.The letter she chased after she learned about it was a little sad: "You are gone, I seem to feel something, but I can't explain it clearly. I just vaguely feel that you left with a sad mood, as if you have resolutely lost Something, it seems to be going to start again..." However, what can be lost, and how to start again?I am still dazed and confused. But after all, the "nest" has really been moved, as if it is really "majestic" to come back to live again.God knows! It was late at night and it was raining outside.facing the street.The twenty-five panes of glass in the curved steel windows were weeping like dense drops of water, completely blocking the light from several rows of wide windows in the opposite building.The son slept on the bed behind him, turned over and over again, and then laughed out loud.I'm dreaming, it must be a good dream.He is in the first grade of elementary school, carrying a small goose-yellow schoolbag on his back, and facing a new life every day, he is really valiant and uplifting.I tucked him in, and lay down with him, but I just stared at the twenty-five crying glass windows, and lost sleep again.The life in the past was probably too familiar, and I only had dreams every night without insomnia; the life I started again, was probably too strange, but I often couldn’t sleep well every night, and I no longer had any dreams. to life.For myself, I have always been seldom dreamy, and my heart seldom flies to yearn for anything, and I can be calm about whether I get it or not. "So, you shouldn't suffer from insomnia." I said to myself, "Go to sleep, I have to send my son to school tomorrow morning, and I have to rush back to climb the grid." I suddenly realized something and interrupted myself: Can't I give myself Looking for some other consolation? God, I'm me after all - a work of God.