Chapter 3 three

three When I was young, I liked science, art, and even philosophy.When I was a freshman, I read calculus, looked at the theory of functions of real variables in my junior year, discussed theoretical physics with people in the dormitory at night, and wrote novels at the same time.Although I can't say that I am proficient in any of them, I find it very enjoyable to study these issues.I feel that every human enterprise is my enterprise, and that I am going to be crazy about every enterprise—this kind of thinking is not normal, but it is not unprecedented.That's how the ancient Greeks thought about it.Assuming that the readers of "Life" are all such people; it can save me the suffering of providing meaning: while being crazy about science or art, it is also quite good to open "Miscellaneous Talks of Late Students" and listen to my insane blues ——I know that making such an assumption is both unreasonable and inconsistent with the national conditions.In my windbreaker pocket, I have two square pieces of very hard meaning. When the story is almost finished, I will take it out and give it to you. It will make you dazed and feel very enjoyable-I promise.In my story, there is a girl in a trench coat standing in the porch——

Mr. Editor did not dare to say hello rashly, the uncle made a misunderstanding.Although he also thought of it, in the evening at the end of July, no one would wear a windbreaker except for serious reasons.He himself was wearing not only a trench coat, but also a pair of high-waisted riding boots with spurs on the heels, and black leather gloves on his hands-of course he also had important reasons.Based on this, it is wrong to think that he is not afraid of heat. Not only is he hot, but his hands and feet are sweaty, and there are now four puddles of water in the palms and soles of the feet.At this moment he made up his mind to himself that no matter what happened, he would never take off his boots tonight.It's not good for people to smell it - of course, he has long forgotten that there is no "people" here, only a worm... He puts his hands under his armpit, but the boots cannot be hidden.After the girl saw clearly, she got in, took off her windbreaker and hung it on the hook.Inside is a black leather jacket, which is not only short, but also weird.She turned around without embarrassment, and said hello; hello.After the man thought about what to say, he replied: Hello, worm—it was too late to say it, but it was too late, the girl raised her hand to give him a mouth.If it hits, there will be a major turning point in the story - who is S and who is M will have to be reversed - but she figured it out in time, retracted her hand, touched her nose and said, hello, sir , I’m polite here—these few sentences are quite Chinese, not only in line with S/M’s etiquette, but also implicitly connected with our nation’s cultural traditions.It's a pity that she immediately felt uncomfortable; she turned around and said: "It's too ugly to be called a maggot!"Let's change it, you can call me little mouse.It is understandable that no one wants to be an insect larva, but a mammal. This request is not too much, but our editor hated all rodents since he was a child, so he hardened his heart and said: No.I didn't force you, you are the maggot yourself.The girl thought for a while, sighed and said, is it?okay then.But, isn't it too gross to call you Grand Master?The man immediately wanted to say: Okay, you can call me Bill—but he suddenly thought, how can it be called Bill, the atmosphere will be lost, and how to write an interview?So he hardened his heart and answered: No!Why are you so wordy?Don't forget, you are a maggot!At the same time, he made a note in his heart: the next time he bury himself in his work and confess, don't forget to say that I slapped other girls.Lord, forgive me.I'm also for journalism - the problem with this guy is that he has too many worries, he's not crisp at all...

I have some editor friends, they say, you can't be so sour and cool all the time.Articles must be understandable to general readers and have educational significance.When it comes to my telling this story, the educational significance is: the capitalist society is too dark, allowing talented literary youths to do boring interviews, forcing them into prostitution—well, I took out the bricks.Once you've done that, you can move on to the storytelling.To be honest, I hate this hero.He was sticky and full of worries.As for me, I used to be straightforward, but now I have become scrupled.A newspaper editor told me: Brother, you are a writer, not a prison van carrying condemned prisoners.Don't keep writing things that make our bosses die, please... that's a reasonable request.I should also add some criticism to the stories I tell, so that I can look good myself.The American editor said he did it for journalism.What business?The business of thieves and whores—ah.I am a novelist myself.If I really can't see that this story is made up by someone else to make me laugh, and I want to seriously criticize it, I will look like a fool.If you are stupid, just be silly, I am very easy-going now.You can call me stupid, and you can even say that I am a worm, I have no objection, although I also want to be a rodent.What kind of person am I if the program can't be adjusted and the manuscript refuses to be written properly?A person should do his duty, as Mr. Lao She said before his death, cooperate more... There is only one thing I don't understand.What is the purpose of living like this?