Chapter 36 little woman

There was a little woman, naturally slender, but she kept her breasts tight.I saw that she was always wearing the same dress, the color of the fabric was not gray or yellow, it was a bit of a wood color, and there were several tassel or button-shaped decorations of the same color hanging on the dress.She was always bareheaded, and her tarnished blond hair fell neatly and loosely over her shoulders.Although her chest is tightly corseted, her movements are still light and agile. Naturally, she exaggerates this flexibility, like putting her hands on her waist, and then turning her upper body to the side suddenly.If I were to describe my impression of her hands, I could only say that I have never seen such a pair of delicate and slender hands with such clear boundaries between the fingers, but there is absolutely nothing in her hands that can be studied in humans. The strange thing is that this is a pair of ordinary hands.

This little woman is very dissatisfied with me, always accuses me, always feels that I treat her unfairly, and makes her angry all the time.If one could divide life into its smallest parts and judge them separately, every little part of my life would mean trouble and unhappiness to her.I often think why she feels that I am angry with her, maybe because every cell in my body is incompatible with her sense of beauty, sense of justice, traditional habits, and her expectations.People in this world already have opposing instincts, but why on earth did she have to suffer?There was no relationship between us that caused her pain because of me, and she should have assumed that I was a stranger, which I was.Not only will I not object to her decision, but I will agree with it with both hands. She only needs to make a decision and forget about my existence.I have never forced her to accept my existence in the past, and I will never do so in the future. In this way, all pain will disappear without a trace?At this time, I will completely ignore personal gains and losses, and I will not care about what she has done.Nature made me miserable too, and I didn't care because I knew that my unhappiness was nothing compared to her pain, and I knew, of course, that it was not the pain of love.She has absolutely no interest in making me better, and at the same time everything she accuses me of is not going to affect my progress.However, my progress has nothing to do with her. All she cares about is her own interests. She only wants to avenge the pain I caused her and prevent the pain that threatens her in the future.Once, I tried to suggest to her how best to end this endless trouble, but it was so emotional that I gave up trying again.

Of course I (if people want to think so) bear some responsibility, for even though this little woman is quite a stranger to me, the only relationship that exists between us is the annoyance I cause her, or rather The annoyances she caused me, however, did not seem to me to be indifferent if her health were also impaired by these annoyances.From time to time (more and more these days) word reaches me that she wakes up pale again in the morning, suffers from excessive insomnia, suffers from unbearable headaches, and is nearly incapacitated, causing anxiety in her family and constant speculation about her. The reason for the poor health is still unknown.The reason, known only to me, is old troubles and new unhappiness.Of course I will not share the worries of her family.She is tough and strong, and whoever has the ability to get angry will probably be able to overcome the consequences of anger.I even suspected that her anguish was an affectation, at least in part, to arouse suspicion in the world.Frankly, she was proud of how I tormented her with my existence.In my opinion, she would not ask others for help. In this way, she would feel a great shame on herself.She only dealt with me out of disgust--a constant, perpetually motivating disgust.She was ashamed to speak of such indecent things to the public; but she could not bear complete silence, under the never-ending pressure.And so, with a woman's tact, she tried to choose a middle way: she kept silent, and only wanted to take the matter to the public court with an expression of silent pain.Perhaps she even expected that if the public's eyes were fixed on me, it would arouse public outrage against me, and society would use its enormous deterrence to pass the final judgment on me quickly and hard. The verdict was nothing less than her petty personal troubles.Then she'll "take the troops back to camp" and, with a sigh of relief, ignore me, and if she really thinks so, then she's mistaken.The public will not accept the role she plays. Even if everyone uses a magnifying glass with the largest multiple, they can’t find faults in me that can be endlessly criticized. I am not the kind of useless person she imagined. Don't want to blow my own horn on this one.If I wasn't a nice guy with a special purpose, I wouldn't stand out.It was only in her eyes, in her eyes that the whites were almost glowing, that I was a loser, and she couldn't convince anyone of that.So, can I be indifferent on this point?No, of course not!Because maybe someday it will actually be publicized that her illness is due to my actions, and besides, some of the most active "spies" who spread the news are ready to see everything, or at least they will put on airs, as if they already know it.At this time, people in the world will come to question me, why do I torture this little woman indiscriminately, do I intend to put her to death, and when will I gain reason and common people's sympathy to stop my actions?If people in the world ask me this way, it will be difficult for me to answer. How can I say that I don't really believe that she is really sick? Will this give people a bad impression of excuses and blaming others?And in such an ingenious way?Also, I seem to be completely frank that I just don't have empathy (even if I believe she is sick) because this woman I never knew, and the relationship that exists between us was only created by her, just Her wishful thinking.I don't want to say that people don't believe me, or rather, people believe and don't believe it, and they don't even bother to think about these things, but are only interested in my answer - about a weak and sick woman. .As a result, it seems to be slightly disadvantageous to me.Whatever I may answer at this point, the incapacity of the world will obstinately prevent me from avoiding the suspicion of a love relationship with that woman in a situation such as the one I am in, even though it is obviously no.If there is a love relationship between us, and it is due to me, then I will indeed admire this little woman's extraordinary ability to judge things and the spirit of perseverance to further complete the matter; If she is troubled, then I will admire her even more.There was, however, absolutely no trace of friendliness in her, in which she was honest and trustworthy, and in which I pinned my last hope.If she was to be believed to have a romantic relationship between us as part of her strategic plan, she would have had a hard time letting go of it, and she never did.But a public that is too slow in this regard will be stubborn and always decide to blame me.

It seems that the only thing I can do is to change myself as much as possible while the world has not intervened in this matter. Although I cannot completely remove her troubles (it is absolutely impossible), I want to try to alleviate her troubles.I do often ask myself whether my situation satisfies me so much that I do not want to change it;I wanted to change myself, not because I felt the need to change, but just to calm this woman down, and I tried it sincerely, not lightly or carelessly, and it even satisfied me, almost happy.Then something changed and it was obvious that I didn't need to call her attention to these changes, she noticed this kind of thing before I did, and she sensed what was in my bones.However, my efforts were in vain.How could it work?Now I can see clearly that her dissatisfaction with me is deep-rooted, and nothing can take away her dissatisfaction, even if I die her dissatisfaction will not be subsided, and even she will still be furious when she hears the news of my suicide .Now, I can't imagine why she--this sensitive woman--was not really aware, as I was, of the hopelessness of her efforts, my innocence, and my inability to meet her demands even with my best wishes.She must have been aware of this, but being scrappy she forgot all about it in the frenzy of struggle.My pathetic peculiarity (by nature, I have no choice) is that I want to whisper attention to those who have lost control of their emotions, and that naturally we will never come to mutual understanding in this way.Whenever I step out of the house in the blissful hours of the early morning, I always see this face, scowl because of me, with a sullen pout and a scrutiny that can be seen before the exam. She glanced at me with a glance that could escape even the most evanescent, with a bitter smile on her girlish cheeks, her accusing eyes looking up to the sky, her arms folded on her hips for stability, Then, in the rage, his face turned pale, and his whole body began to tremble.

Not long ago, I hinted at this for the first time to a good friend (and I was quite surprised by it myself), only in lightly, casually, and in order to show to the outside world that this matter is insignificant to me, I said nothing. He didn't mention the truth of his own distress, but what is unusual is that this friend didn't just listen to it perfunctorily, he even emphasized the importance of this matter from his own point of view, said it extremely seriously and insisted on his own and what is even more remarkable is that he nevertheless underestimated the matter itself on an important point, since he seriously suggested that I travel.His proposal is more irrational than any kind of advice.Although things are simple and everyone close to it can recognize them clearly, they are not all, or even the most important part, simply resolved through my departure.On the contrary, I cannot leave.If I were to carry out any plan, it would at all costs keep the matter within the hitherto narrow, uninvolved sphere, a plan that would give me peace wherever it was, and prevent it from happening. The big, dramatic change caused by this incident, which of course included me not talking about it to anyone.But all this is not because it is some dark conspiracy, but because it is a small matter that is purely personal and after all easy to bear, and it should continue to exist.In this sense, that friend's advice was not useless. Although he didn't teach me anything new, he strengthened my basic views.

After thinking about it carefully, it is not difficult to see that the change over time is not the change of the matter itself, but the further development of my understanding of the matter. Part of this understanding has become calmer, more confident and rational as a man , is closer to the essence of things; while the other part is manifested in a certain degree of restlessness, which is due to the influence of continual fluctuations of mood, which, although rather weak, cannot be overcome. I shall be more composed before this matter, for I believe that some kind of verdict is not yet coming, though it sometimes seems to be at hand.People tend to overestimate the speed at which rulings come, especially young people.Whenever my little lady judge, weakened by my gaze, reclined in the easy chair, clutching the back of the easy chair with one hand, fiddling with her bodice with the other, tears of rage and despair When my cheeks are full, I always think that now is the time for the verdict to come, and I will be called to "appear in court" immediately to defend myself.However, there was no verdict and no defense.Women are too easily stimulated, and the world has no time to pay attention to all this. What happened all these years?Nothing but repeating these things now and then, and there are more and more of them.There are those who are always fond of loitering about such things, and taking part in them, whenever they can find an opportunity, but they have found none, and have hitherto relied only on their sense of smell, which, though sufficient to keep their possessors busy, There is no other use, but this phenomenon has always existed.There are always loafers and idlers who justify their approach to other people in the most cunning way (their favorite method is through relatives), who are always spying and have a nose full of smells, but The result is just nothing.But the difference is that I gradually recognize them and can distinguish their faces.I used to think that as they gradually came together from all over the place, the scale of the matter would expand and the Judgment would come naturally; I just learned today that everything has always existed and has little or nothing to do with the coming of the Judgment.As for the ruling, why should I give it such an unusual name?If someday—definitely not tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and probably never—the public intervenes in this matter (it's not their business, as I've always said), then, though I won't come out unharmed Litigation, but it will certainly be noticed that I am not unrecognized by society, that I have lived under public scrutiny, confident and trusted.In view of this, I note in passing that this miserable little woman who appears after the fact can at best add a few poor words to other people's awards, and I will be regarded by the public as a worthy member of the awards; A man other than myself would have seen the little woman as a pestering nuisance, and would have crushed her with his boots, and this would have had no public repercussions.This is the way things are, and I have no reason to be uneasy.

As I get older, I get a little jittery, but that has nothing to do with it.Torturing someone for so long was unbearable, even though I knew she was so angry for no reason.I became more agitated and began to wait for the verdict with some body voyeurism, even though intellectually I didn't believe the verdict would come.In part, it is also a symptom of old age, when young people make everything beautiful and beautiful, and the ugly disappears in the source of their infinite strength.Maybe someone in his youth had a prying, waiting look, and he didn't take it seriously, and no one noticed it, not even himself.However, as the years pass, what is left to the old man is only a partial remnant, each part is necessary, each part will not be renewed and is under people's surveillance, the prying and waiting eyes of an aging man are the real clarity The recognizable, easily spotted peeking, waiting gaze.Even so, however, this is not a real deterioration of the situation.

No matter what angle I look at, things are always like this. Although I cover up this little thing with my hands, I must continue my current life consistently and without external interference, despite the woman's fury and roar.