Chapter 11 Eleven, I want to succeed

I don't pretend to be an ordinary housewife. --Elizabeth Taylor Everywhere I go, people always ask me: Do you think college education kills writers? My take is: they haven't killed enough - lots of bestsellers, All from the hands of these highly educated guys. — F. O'Connor Novelists full of classical feelings always write like this: "In this life, I only wish to sleep forever and never wake up." The non-stop dream is another world discovered by the psychoanalyst from under the pillow.When my mother wakes me up from bed every morning, lays out breakfast for me, and hands me my schoolbag, my precocious mind is always filled with a lot of dream bubbles. I have been a child who loves to dream since I was a child.The most liberating thing about my life now is that I can sleep as long as I want, and sometimes I can turn my head when I am woken up by the neighbor's quarrel or the loud TV volume or the sudden ringing of the phone. Covered in the quilt, continue the suspended dream.Sometimes you can continue to travel in a foreign country in your dream, of course sometimes I can never go back to the original dream, unable to continue to fall in love with a strange man, then I will feel annoyed and want to cry.

The life I shared with Tiantian was a bit like a dream at the beginning, the kind of pure-color intuitive dream that I like, without the feeling of loneliness. The German Mark may be something like the sound of quarrels, the ringing of the telephone, etc., which can disturb my dreams.Of course, if I hadn't met Mark, I might have met someone else who could seduce me.The life of me and Tiantian is full of too many small gaps that cannot be bridged by ourselves, and there must be external forces that will take the opportunity to intervene.And I may really not be a good girl. That day, I woke up in the middle of the night and found that Tiantian had come back, he was sitting on the sofa beside me, looking at my face intently, and there was a cat, holding a black and white kitten in his arms , the cat is also staring at me.In those green eyes, I saw myself.I sat up all of a sudden, the cat fell out of Tiantian's hands, and quickly crossed the floor to the bedroom door.

"Where have you been?" I asked Tian Tian.It seemed a bit pre-emptive, and he probably wanted to ask the same question. "I went back to grandma's house, and grandma invited me to dinner." Tian Tian said softly, "I haven't seen her for a long time, her mother cat gave birth to a new litter, and she gave me a kitten called Xian lump." There was an unpredictable tenderness on his face, he reached out and stroked my hair, my cheek, my chin, and my thin neck.That hand was a little cold, but gentle. I opened my eyes wide and suddenly had a premonition that he wanted to strangle me.But this idea just passed by in a flash, and he didn't have the strength.For this I felt a strange sense of guilt that made me open my mouth to tell what had happened.Tian Tian blocked my mouth with a kiss.His tongue was slightly bitter, and the intoxicating plant-like scent permeated the entire room, and then his hands, sliding over every inch of my skin like an avalanche, this kind of love exhausted me, I felt that he Already knew everything that happened, his fingers could read it on my skin.There were stranger's bodily fluids and particles sticking to it, and his senses were on the verge of firing like a madman.

"Maybe I should go to the doctor." He was silent for a while, then said. "What?" I looked at him sadly, everything that has happened and will happen must not be what I wanted.There was no one else in the room but us at the moment, and there was no way he or I could escape that atmosphere. "I love you." I hugged him and closed my eyes. This sentence was too similar to a movie dialogue, and I was a little embarrassed to say it even when I was sad, so I closed my eyes, and there were many shadows in my mind, like Shadows cast by candles.And then a bunch of sparks burst forth, my novel, the only spark that could inspire me and perfect the reason for my physical existence.

Writing, smoking, blaring music, not too short of money (I still have enough money in my bank account to last this novel, in fact, I mix it with daily expenses, and he pays more if he has more money One point), without saying a word, sitting in silence for hours, that is happiness.After writing more than a dozen pages of manuscript paper in one go, I feel that every gap in life is filled with the meaning of life, and every small wrinkle on my face is worth it. I am falling in love with the "myself" in the novel, because in the novel I am smarter than in real life and can see through the connotation of everything in the world, love, desire, hatred, and star shift.And some seeds of dreams are quietly buried between the lines, waiting for the sun to germinate. Alchemy-like work means removing the waste and saving the essence, smelting the negative and empty reality into essential and meaningful art. This kind of art can also be smelted into a super commodity, which can be sold to all the young generation with beautiful faces, open bodies and avant-garde thinking who are willing to have fun in Shanghai gardens and dream about in the backlight of the end of the century.It is they, these new human beings who invisibly hide in every corner of the city, who will applaud or throw rotten eggs at my novels, free and lawless, ideal allies for any young novelist who wants to be different.

Deng, my former fiction editor, called me. She is a middle-aged lady in her early 40s. Her husband is studying in Japan and she lives alone with a daughter who is in junior high school.She has the characteristics of a middle-aged woman in Shanghai. She is nervous and fair, always wears her hair in a bun, wears boat-shaped leather shoes and cotton skirts, loves to inquire about various news, and loves to eat ice cream throughout the year. My first collection of stories with her help, The Scream of a Butterfly, had a strange encounter with people whispering about that grotesquely daring book about me being a violent bisexual Rumors spread like wildfire. There have been incidents where college students took my books in bookstores, and some men forwarded me pornographic photos and letters through editors. They wanted to know what kind of relationship there was between the protagonist in the novel and myself. Contact, I hope you can make an appointment to dress up as a romantic person in my novel and have dinner with me at the Saigon restaurant on Hengshan Road, or drive a white "Times Superman" with me, and we can be in the car when we reach the Yangpu Bridge Making love, in short, everything happened like a scandal, and the uproar was unexpected.But to get down to business, I didn’t make much money during the whole process, and the second edition didn’t come out after the thousands of copies of the first edition were sold out. I asked Deng, and she said that the publishing house has some problems in the recent operation. Let’s talk about it after a while. .Waited until now.

At that time, my boyfriend Ye Qian said, what you wrote is not suitable for children, it is too much, so the book is finished.After the book was finished, my short association with him also came to an end. He is a bad young man who works as a copywriter for a large advertising company. I met him when I was interviewing the British boss of their company. Chased me after a first meeting, when I was still in the androphobia brought on by the short ex-boyfriend, I would rather find friendship among a bunch of women. But he dealt with me very patiently. After listening to my previous failed relationship experience, he stood up and said, "You see, I am tall, my mind is not bad, and my ideas are very simple. I just want to go deep Just getting to know you, that's all."

That night, he managed to take a deep and comprehensive look at me, from breast to toe, from gasp to scream, from a small drop of water to the entire sea of ​​desire. His body is slender and graceful, his balls are warm and clean, and when he is in his mouth, he can feel the unconditional trust that sex gives to the other party. His penis spins and lifts like a bird's wings, and he has a kind of The simple and clear sex method healed my gray memory and restored my normal attitude towards sex. He even taught me carefully and patiently how to distinguish between clitoral orgasm and vaginal orgasm (there was once a book warning that the former is bad and neurotic. Yes, the latter is good, mature), and there were times when he always let me have both orgasms at the same time.

In the end he convinced me that I was a happier woman than many.Because according to statistics, about 70% of Chinese women have some kind of problem in sex, and 10% of women have never had an orgasm in their lives.This is an astonishing number, and it is also one of the internal driving forces that promote the vigorous development and enduring of the women's liberation movement in every era.Freud Sr. said 100 years ago that when libido has no outlet, it will transform into various socio-political behaviors, wars, conspiracies, movements, etc. The few months I spent with Ye Qian coincided with the publication of my novel, and my spirit was in a state of impetuosity and excitement. Ye Qian and the sex he brought were born in response to this state.Although this kind of sexual experience inevitably carries a certain loss and a certain emptiness, women's nature always unconsciously connects sex and spiritual love more closely.With the first edition of the anthology "The Scream of a Butterfly" ending, and without a few coppers ringing in my pocket (I had hoped the book would bring me a fortune), we split up without incident. We broke up, neither quarreling, nor sentimental nor aggressive. In short, we broke up in a very scientific and harmless way.

Tian Tian is a different type of man than any man I have had before, he is a fetus soaked in formalin, his resurrection depends on a kind of love without impurities, and his final death is also inseparable from love Relationship, he can't give me complete sex, and I can't be as good as a jade.Everything is unpredictable, my love may come more from the degree to which I am needed, how much he needs me, and how much my love should be.My existence is needed every day like oxygen and water. Our love is the most grotesque crystallization, everything comes from chance, and everything comes from the suppressed subtle atmosphere that shrouds fate.

In early autumn, the air smells dry like tobacco or gasoline. My editor asked me on the phone, "How is this new book going?" "Fine," I said, "maybe I'll need an agent." "What kind?" she asked curiously. "Something that would help me realize my dreams while preventing the unflattering ending of the last collection," I said. "Tell me what you think." "My dream is the dream of a young, stylish, smart, ambitious woman, for whom my new book is written, and there is supposed to be a book party touring the country. Masks, fragments of my book strewn across the floor, and people dancing wildly on these fragments." "My God," she laughed, "you're crazy." "It can be achieved." I said, disapproving of her smile. The stinky literary world is like the martial arts described by Jin Yong. There are righteous ways and evil ways, and many righteous people like to do things that are sanctimonious and verbal. "It just takes money and intelligence to make it happen." "Well," she said, "there are some writers who have a pen meeting in Shanghai, and one of them is a girl a few years older than you. After marrying a famous critic, she is always eager to find inspiration in her husband's hair that falls on the floor. , very interesting. You might be able to meet them, which would be beneficial." She mentioned a restaurant on Xinle Road, where she would be. I asked Tiantian if he wanted to meet those writers with me, but he pretended not to hear me.He has a deep-seated bad impression of writers. I hesitated for a long time what kind of clothes to choose. The clothes in the wardrobe were divided into two distinct styles. The fox-like little dress looks like the cat girl in the "007" series.I tossed a coin and chose the latter.Wearing purple lipstick and purple eye shadow, matching with leopard print handbags, the hippie retro attire of the 60s in the West is emerging in some places in Shanghai. The taxi took me around the streets in a dizzy way. The driver was a novice who had just started working for a few days. He accidentally went back to the old place. I was basically blind and had no sense of direction. , just screaming, the two of us driving each other crazy along the way.Seeing the number on the meter jump up and down, I threatened, "I want to complain," the driver said nothing, "because you are harming the rights and interests of customers." I emphasized my tone. "Okay, okay, big deal, I won't take your money." "Hey, just stop here." I yelled in time, a familiar light and a large glass window passed by outside the car window, and there were many yellow hairs swaying behind the glass, "By the way, I will get off here." I changed my mind temporarily. Since the car could not drive to the restaurant on Xinle Road, I had no choice but to give up the meeting with the writers.Have some fun at Kenny's Yin Yang Bar (YY). Yin Yang Bar is divided into upper and lower floors. Going down the long stairs, the dance hall in the basement presents a happy atmosphere. The smells of alcohol, saliva, perfume, RMB, and adrenaline are floating around like this, Broadway-style The light comedy atmosphere, I saw my favorite DJ Christophe Lee from Hong Kong was on the stage, he also saw me and made a face at me, the music is House and Trip'Hop, both are cool industrial dance music, Like a dark fire burning wildly, a blunt knife cuts the flesh, the more you jump, the happier you are, the more you jump, the more refreshing, until you evaporate in the world, until the brain and cerebellum shake together is the highest state. There are many blond-haired foreigners around, and there are also many Chinese women with small waists and black hair like an oriental treasure as a selling point. They all have a bitch-like self-promotional expression on their faces, but in fact quite a few of them Some are white-collar workers of various multinational companies, most of them are well-educated women from good families, some have stayed abroad, have private cars, and are the chief representatives of a foreign-funded company (referred to as "the first generation"). The best among women, but they dance with ambiguous expressions on their faces. I really don't know what is going on in their minds. Of course, there are also some prostitutes who specialize in cross-border skin and meat business. They usually have amazing long hair (for the foreign devils to marvel at the magical hair of Oriental women while being sexually excited), and generally speak basic English (such as " one hundred for hand job, two hundred for blow job, three hundred for quickie, five hundred for one night."), like to lick lips in sexy slow motion at the target (it can be made into a hit movie called "Chinese Lips ", specifically describes the affair of foreigners in thousands of bars in Shanghai. The affair begins with licking lips, all kinds of lips, plump and thin, black lips, silver lips, red lips, purple lips, poor-quality lipstick, and Lan Kou , CD lipstick... "Chinese Lips" starring Shanghai's romantic women will surpass the Hollywood blockbuster "China Box" starring Gong Li and Jamie Irons). When I dance, I have hallucinations and inspirations, which are the result of excessive physical liberation.I think there should be a personal female secretary who follows me with a laptop anytime, anywhere, especially when dancing to industrial dance music. She should write down all my hallucinations, which is a thousand times better than sitting at a desk and writing, much more Twenty million times. I can't remember where I was, there was a smell of marijuana smoke (or cigar smoke) in the air. The eyes of many men, I dance like one of the most favored concubines in the Islamic harem, and like Medusa, the Gorgon.Men are always eager to have sex with a witch for a moment and then be eaten by the witch. There is a kind of male scorpion in the world, which is always destroyed by their sexual partners after copulation. I saw the silver ring on my navel flashing rapidly in the phantom of the lights, like a small poisonous flower blooming on my body, and a hand wrapped around my naked waist from behind. I didn't know this Who it is, but I don't really care, when I turned my head with a smile, I saw Mark's beautifully contoured face.He is actually here too. He leaned his face against mine and exhaled warmly to me over the music, he must have had a martini called "James' Bon", his voice was low but I could still hear him Said he wanted me, right here and now.I looked at him dazedly, "Here?...now...where?" We huddled together in the not-so-clean women's bathroom on the second floor, the music was far away, my body temperature gradually dropped, and I still couldn't keep my eyes open, but I blocked Mark's hand, "We're doing it here What?" I asked him in a sleepwalking voice. "Making love." He used an appropriate word, and there was nothing frivolous on his face. On the contrary, I don't think his blue eyes are cold at all. There are soft waves like Saint-Saëns' "Swan", even in In such a smelly restroom, you will never understand how pure lust can provoke such intimacy! "I think this sucks, like a crime, more like... torture..." I murmured. "The police can't find it here, trust me, it's all perfect." He phrased it like a liar eager to please, and he pushed me against the purple wall, lifted the skirt, and took off the CK panties in a snap , in a lump, stuffed it into the pocket behind his buttocks, and then he lifted me up with great strength, and without saying a word, he poked it in accurately. I didn't feel anything else, just like sitting on a hot And dangerous fire hydrant on. "You bastard!" I couldn't help swearing, "Put me down quickly, this won't work, I'm like a stuffed monkey on the wall." He gazed at me feverishly and silently, we switched positions, he sat on the toilet, I sat on top of him, in the womanly position, and took the erotic direction myself.Someone is knocking on the door, and a perverted man and woman in the toilet are not finished yet. The orgasm still came in fear and discomfort, another perfect orgasm, even though the position was awkward, even though it was in such a smelly bathroom.He pushed me away, pulled the water valve, and the filth quickly disappeared with the swirling water. I started to cry, all this was inexplicable, I lost more and more confidence in myself, I suddenly felt that I was inferior to those professional prostitutes downstairs.At least they still have a sense of professionalism and calmness, while I am awkward and have a terrible split personality. What's more hateful is that I can't stop thinking and writing.I couldn't face my face in the dark mirror in the bathroom, something was missing inside me again, a void. Mark hugged me, "Forgive me" and he kept saying "Sorry, Sorry" and held me in his arms like a dead baby, which was even more unbearable. I pushed him away, took out the underwear from his butt pocket and put it on, straightened the skirt, "You didn't rape me, no one can rape me, don't keep saying Sorry, Sorry, that's rude Yes." I growled at him in a low voice, "I cry because I think I'm so ugly, and I feel better when I cry, you know that?" "No, you're not ugly at all." Mark's face was full of a serious expression unique to Germans. I laughed, "No, I mean one day I will die ugly. Because, I'm a bad girl, and God doesn't like bad girls, although I like myself a lot." As I spoke, I began to cry again. "No, no, my honey, you don't know how much I like you, really, CoCo, I like you more and more." There was infinite tenderness in his eyes, which turned into infinite sadness under the light of the toilet , we hugged each other tightly, and desire surfaced again. At first there were knocks on the door, and it seemed that some lady had run out of patience.I was terrified, he made a silence gesture, kissed me calmly, the footsteps outside the door went away, I gently pushed him away, "Let's not meet again." "We still meet accidentally, Shanghai is very small, you know." We walked out of the bathroom quickly, "I'm leaving." I said, and walked out the door, he insisted on driving me back, but I refused. "Okay," he waved to a taxi, took a bill from his wallet and put it in the driver's hand.I didn't stop him from doing it, I got in the car and whispered to him through the window, "I still don't feel well, I feel guilty." "That's because we had sex in the wrong place, and it will affect you afterwards Emotions." He stretched out his face and kissed me, we didn't mention Tian Tian, ​​​​we deceived ourselves not to mention it. There's a housewife on the cab radio telling the host of the "Till Dawn" hotline that her husband is having an affair, but she doesn't want a divorce, she wants the other woman to disappear, and she doesn't know how to win back her husband's heart.Both the driver and I were silent. City people are accustomed to listening to other people's private stories absent-mindedly, and there is nothing they can do without empathy.When the car drove on the viaduct, I saw a sea of ​​lights, so brilliant, so amazing.I imagine how many stories are happening in the dimly lit places all over Shanghai at this moment, how many hustle and bustle, turmoil and fighting, how many unimaginable emptiness, indulgence and love. Before going to bed every day, he snuggled up on the sofa with the kitten ball of thread, holding a pad in his hand, and wrote a long letter to his mother who was far away in Spain.I sat down next to him, the ball of thread ran away, he suddenly looked up at me, I was startled, I suspected that he smelled the smell of a strange man again.You must know that Mark still has a faint body odor, and I have always enjoyed this faint animal smell. But I couldn't bear the cold eyes like cold water every day. I stood up nervously and walked to the bathroom.He put his head down and continued writing. The hot water was rushing, and the water vapor slowly condensed on the only large mirror in the bathroom, and I couldn't see my face.I exhale, no one, a tub of smoking hot water, relax, when trouble comes I hide myself in a tub of hot water, the water is so hot, a bunch of hair like black lily pads Floating on the water, all I can recall are some happy and beautiful things. I recalled that when I was a child, I always sneaked up to the attic of my grandmother’s house. There was a broken old-fashioned leather swivel chair in the attic, and a large mahogany box with four corners covered with copper. The box was full of dust. A porcelain vase with the word "Salt" was fired, some scraps left over from making cheongsams, and some weird and useless gadgets.I always sit on a broken leather chair and play with those gadgets alone, and the sky dims little by little outside the small dormer window. "Ni Ke," grandma called me, I pretended not to hear, and said again, "Ni Ke, I know where you are," and then I saw grandma's fat figure ascending the stairs.I quickly closed the box, but my hands were dirty and my clothes were dirty.Grandma said angrily, "Don't crawl around anymore. If you like these things, I will give you a dowry." But later, because the city government built a subway, the old building built by the French in 1931 was moved. , everyone moved in a mess, so all the treasures I played with when I was young are gone. I stretched my feet, thinking of the past when I was a child, it was always like watching the previous life from a long distance.Except for that tender feeling, everything seemed fake.At this time, the door of the bathroom was pushed open, Tian Tian walked in, his eyes were red, he went to the bathtub and squatted down. "Is the letter finished?" I asked softly. "I finished writing," said Tian Tian, ​​and he looked into my eyes silently, "I asked her to give up her idea of ​​opening a restaurant in Shanghai. I also told her about it when I went to my grandma's house. Settle a bill... I don't want her to come, I'd rather hang around like this until the day I die..." His voice was extremely gloomy, and when he said the last sentence, his tears flowed down. "CoCo, no matter what, don't lie to me." He stared into my eyes, an invisible chisel cut open a layer of pink film on the heart, a thick and terrifying silence like blood It penetrates all around, but the more hopeless you are in love, the more you are hidden in a deep lie, a deep dream. "I love you." I hugged him and closed my eyes. Our tears fell into the bathtub. The water in the bathtub became hotter and darker, and finally swallowed the choking and throbbing like boiling blood. move.From that night on, I swore I would never let him know about Mark's existence.Not at all, I don't want him to die in my hands, in my affair.