Dowra said: "Give birth to a few children" Mom and Bates say: "Find yourself a charity, Help the poor and the sick, or spend time improving the environment” Yes, a noble cause has a wide world There are lovely sights waiting to be discovered But now, what I really want to do is find someone who belongs to me - lover - Joni Mitchell, "Song for Sharon" My name is Ni Ke, and my friends call me CoCo (Coco Chanel, a famous French woman who happened to live to be 90 years old, is the second idol in my mind, and Henry Miller is of course the first).Every morning when I open my eyes, I think I can do something remarkable and amazing. I imagine that one day I will rise above the city like gorgeous fireworks crackling. This has almost become my life ideal, a kind of life worth living reason.

This has a lot to do with the fact that I live in a place like Shanghai, where there are gray smogs, dull rumors, and a sense of superiority inherited from the Shiliyangchang period.This sense of superiority always stimulates a sensitive and proud girl like me, and I love and hate it. But anyway, I'm still only 25 years old, published a non-profit but brought some kind of reputation a year ago (male readers wrote to me and sent me pornographic photos), from a magazine 3 months ago I quit my job as a reporter, and now I'm a waitress at a coffee shop called Lotte, wearing a leg-baring miniskirt.

In the Lotte Cafe where I work, there is a tall and handsome boy who often visits. He sits drinking coffee and reading a book for a long time.I like to observe his subtle expressions, every movement of his, and he seems to know that I am observing him, but he never speaks. Until one day he handed over a piece of paper with "I love you" written on it, as well as his name and address. This rabbit boy who is 1 year younger than me fascinated me with his unpredictable beauty, which comes from his exhaustion for life and longing for love. Although we seem to be two very different people, I am ambitious and energetic, and the world is a fragrant fruit in my eyes, waiting to be bitten at any time, while he is taciturn and sentimental, and life seems to him like a wild animal. The arsenic-coated cake will be poisoned more and more with every bite.But this difference only deepens their attraction to each other, as inseparable as the north and south poles of the earth.We quickly fell in love.

Not long after we met, he told me a secret hidden in his family.His mother lived in a small town in Spain called Gadac, where she lived with a local man and opened a Chinese restaurant. It is said that she made a lot of money selling lobster and Chinese wontons. And his father died very early, he died suddenly within a month of visiting relatives in Spain, and the death certificate said: "Myocardial infarction".The ashes of the deceased were consigned back by a McDonnell Douglas plane. He still remembered that the day was sunny and the short grandma was crying like a wet rag at the airport.

"My grandma decided it was a murder. My dad never had a heart attack. My mom killed my dad. Grandma said my mom had another man there, and she conspired with that man to kill her husband." He called Tian Tian stared at me with a strange look and said, "Can you believe it? I still don't know what's going on. Maybe it's true. But my mother sends me a lot of money every year. I've been Live on that money." He looked at me quietly, and this bizarre story grabbed me at once. I am naturally the kind of girl who is easily moved by tragedy and conspiracy.When I was studying in the Chinese Department of Fudan University, I set my ambition to be an exciting novelist. Omen, conspiracy, ulcer, dagger, lust, poison, madness, and moonlight were all carefully prepared words.I looked at his fragile and beautiful facial features tenderly and eagerly, and understood where the rare melancholy in him came from.

"The shadow of death will only deepen with time, and there will always be only a layer of transparent glass between your present life and the broken past." I told him what I meant, and his eyes suddenly got wet, and he held one hand tightly with the other. "But I found you, and I decided to trust you and stay with you," he said, "Don't just be curious about me, and don't leave me right away." I moved into Tiantian's residence in the western suburbs of the city, a large three-bedroom apartment.He arranged the room in a simple and comfortable way, with a cloth sofa bought from IKEA along the wall, and a Strauss brand piano, above which was hung his self-portrait, his head looked like he just got out of the water Fish up.But to be honest, I don't like the residential area around the apartment very much.

Almost every road is potholed, lined with ugly squat houses, rusty billboards, rotting garbage dumps, and pay phone booths that leak like the Titanic when it rains.Looking out of my window, I can't see a single green tree, beautiful man or woman, clean sky, and I can't seem to see the future. Tiantian often said that the future is a trap, dug in the middle of the brain. He once suffered from aphasia after his father's death, then dropped out in the freshman year of high school, and now he has grown into a nihilist in his teenage loneliness.Instinctive resistance to the outside world made him spend half of his time in bed. He read books, watched DVDs, smoked, thought about life and death, soul and body issues, made voice calls, played computer games or slept in bed, and the rest The time he spends is drawing, walking with me, eating, shopping, visiting bookstores and video stores, taking coffee shops, going to the bank, and when he needs money, he goes to the post office to send letters to his mother in beautiful blue envelopes.

He seldom visited his grandma, and when he moved away from her, it was a nightmare of rotting rot.Grandma was immersed in the endless delirium of the Spanish murders, her heart was broken, her face was blue, her spirit disappeared, but she never died, and now she lives in an old bungalow in the city center, cursing Daughter-in-law curses fate. On Saturday, the weather was fine and the room temperature was suitable. I woke up on time at 8:30 in the morning, and Tian Tian who was next to me also opened his eyes.We looked at each other for a moment, then kissed quietly.The kiss in the morning is tender and tender, like the lubrication of a small fish swimming in water.This is the homework that both of us must do at the beginning of every day, and it is also the only way of sex between me and Tiantian.

He has a great sexual obstacle, and I don't know whether it has something to do with the tragic hints he has received psychologically.I remember the first time I hugged him on the bed, and I was really disappointed when I found his helplessness, and even doubted whether I would continue to stay with him.Since college, I have been affected by a kind of "sex-based theory" in my outlook on life, although it has been corrected now. He couldn't enter my body, he looked at me silently, his whole body was covered with cold sweat, this was the first time he had contact with the opposite sex in more than 20 years.

In the world of men, the normality of sex is almost as important as their lives, and any defect in this regard is an unbearable pain.He cried and I cried too.Then we kissed and caressed and murmured all night.I quickly fell in love with his sweet kisses and tender touch.The kiss melted like ice cream on the tip of the tongue.For the first time, he let me know that kisses also have souls and colors. He captivates wild girls with the kind and loving nature of a baby dolphin, and the rest, screams or outbursts, vanity or orgasm, seem in a split second to be irrelevant. Milan Kundera created a classic Analects of love in "The Unbearable Lightness of Being", "Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two unrelated emotions. The former is lust - sensual enjoyment, and the latter It's love -- love each other."

I didn't know this was happening to me at first, but the ensuing sequence of events and the presence of another man confirmed it. We wake up at 9 o'clock, he walks into the big bathtub, and I smoke my first Seven Stars of the day, cooking polenta, eggs, and milk in the tiny kitchen.There is a piece of golden sunshine outside the window, and the summer morning is always so poetic, like a piece of melting honey.I relax, listening to the sound of rushing water coming from the bathroom. "Are you coming to Lotte with me?" I walked into the steaming bathroom with a large glass of milk.He closed his eyes and gave a long yawn like a fish, "CoCo, I have an idea," he said softly. "What do you think?" I handed the milk to him, and he took a sip from his mouth without taking it. "Will you quit your job in the cafe?" "Then what can I do?" "We have enough money, you don't have to go out to earn money all the time, you can write novels." His idea seems to have been brewing for a long time. He hoped that I could write a blockbuster novel that would shock the literary world. Now there are almost no bookstores worth reading. First-read novels are full of disappointing false stories. "Okay," I said, "but not now, I want to do it a little longer and see some interesting people in the café." "Whatever you want," he muttered, a catchphrase that meant he let it go and didn't want to say another word. We had breakfast together, then I dressed and made up, walked around the house like a beautiful woman in the morning, and finally found my beloved leopard-print handbag.Before going out, he sat on the couch and picked up a book, glanced at me, "I'll call you," he said. This is the city during rush hour.All kinds of vehicles and pedestrians are intertwined, flowing and flowing like the torrent in the Grand Canyon, mixed with invisible desires and countless secrets, meandering forward, the sun shines on the street, and tall buildings on both sides of the street stand in row upon row. Between heaven and earth is the crazy product of human invention, and the humbleness of daily life is suspended in the air like dust, forming the same theme of the industrial age.