Chapter 21 21. Cocktails

Come, writers and critics, take your pen, and write prophecy. — Bob Dylan Love tore us apart. — Ian Curtis Different types of girls have different types of fame. —Sally Stanford I stayed in the house and wrote with my hair disheveled for a week.During this period, there was not a single call to disturb, and no one knocked on the door (except for the waiter who delivered the food in Xiaosichuan and an old lady from the neighborhood committee who collected street sweeping fees).I was in a trance, like sliding on a piece of mud, from this door to that door, from this reality to that fiction, I hardly put in too much effort, it was my novel itself that pushed me to slide.

I gave up the art of grooming and lying, and I wanted to put my life in the public eye 100 percent as it was.You don't need too much courage, you just need to obey the power that sneaks in the dark, as long as there is pleasure at all.Don't be naive, and don't be cool.In this way I discovered my true being and overcame my fears of loneliness, poverty, death, and other bad things that might happen. I often fell asleep lying on the manuscript paper, and my cheeks were swollen from sleeping. Sometimes, after the silver needle of the wall clock pointed to 12 o'clock in the middle of the night, I would have auditory hallucinations.That sound repeated itself, like the snoring of the middle-aged mechanic in the neighbor's house, the sound of a crane roaring all night at a construction site in the distance, and the sound of an electrostatic appliance in a kitchen refrigerator.

A few times I couldn't bear it anymore, put down my pen and tiptoed to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, I hoped that there was a tiger hidden in there, and it would pounce on me, cover my mouth and nose with its golden fur, and suffocate me , and raped me without hesitation. In fact, I was enlightened in this unspeakable claustrophobia.I think heaven is nothing more than that, free and unscrupulous.No man will pay attention to your hairstyle and clothing, no one will pick whether your breasts are plump or not, whether your eyes are bright enough, no one has to rush one after another dinner party, and no police will stop you from acting crazy, no boss supervises your work process, no Night and day, no one will squeeze all your emotions.

I was hypnotized by my own novels.In order to describe an intense scene delicately and vividly, I try to write naked. Many people believe that there is an inevitable relationship between the body and the mind, just like the American poet Roethke lives in his century-old ancestral home, facing the mirror Wear it on and off and keep feeling inspired by your own naked dance.Whether this story is believable or not is unknown, but I have always believed that writing has a secret relationship with the body.When I was relatively plump, the sentences I wrote would be short and sharp, but when I was thinner, my novels were full of long and long sentences, soft and dense like deep seaweed.Break through your own limits, develop as far as possible to the sky, even to the universe, and write elegant and vast things.

It might sound like a God's catchphrase to me, but I'm still trying to do it.In the novel, a man and a woman huddled together in a house where the fire spread. They knew that they could not leave here. The fire sealed all the doors, windows and corridors, so they could only do one thing, making love frantically in the center of the fire.This is a story one of my many ex-boyfriends told me, it happened near his house. When the stretcher carried out the couple, they hugged each other naked, their charred bodies embedded in each other's body, unable to separate.Both the boy and the girl are under 20 years old, and they are students of key universities in the city. It happened to be a weekend night, and the girl's parents went to the Tianshan Theater to watch a play as usual.The boy came to the girl's house, they always watched TV together, listened to music, chatted, and of course they would do some tender and lingering things like all young people, and then the fire spread from the common kitchen downstairs, and the fire was in full swing. It was easy to spread in the wooden house, and the wind was particularly strong that night, and they didn't realize the danger until the air in the house suddenly ignited.They knew that they could not leave here, all the doors, windows and corridors were blocked by fire seals, so they could only do one thing, making love frantically in the center of the fire.Then I really smelled the burnt smell in my nose, as well as the hot and desperate breath.

I put down my pen and thought, what would happen if my lover and I were in this house?No doubt we will, because we have no choice.Only this deep-rooted approach can resist the extreme fear of death that will come in a few seconds. In Freud's theoretical system that is like rubbish, only the life instinct and life instinct he mentioned The mystical connection between the death instincts is something I am deeply convinced of. I remember that at the grass party, Madonna asked a question in public, "If the 1999 Nostra Damas prophecy of the end of the world is really confirmed, what would you choose to do in the end?" Then she asked herself loudly, "Of course it's fuck!"

I was still holding the pen in my right hand, and my left hand was quietly stretched under it, where it was already wet, and I could feel that it was slimy and swollen like a jellyfish.Put a finger in it, put another in it, if the finger has eyes or other scientific and subtle instruments, my finger will definitely discover a beautiful and sensual world of pink.The swollen blood vessels pulsate softly against the inner wall of the vagina. For thousands of years, the mysterious garden of women has been waiting for the invasion of the opposite sex, waiting for the most primitive happiness, waiting for the countless sperm sent in by a war, and then There is a small life that continues in the pink and fat palace, is it like this?

I satisfied myself with a slightly disgusting enthusiasm, yes, always with a hint of disgust.Others use their families to be ruined and displaced to inspire themselves to write classics handed down from generation to generation, but for me, I am wearing the best "opium" perfume and amusing myself in the claustrophobic singing of Marily Manson for seven days and seven nights to my victory. Maybe this is my last novel, because I always feel that I can't play any tricks, I am going to be finished, yes, shame my parents who raised me, and make my lover pure and helpless like a little butterfly disappointment.

Seven days later, a phone call pulled me up from the bottom just in time.The sun was shining outside the curtains that day, and the wind blew in the fragrance of pansies and freesias from the nearby Changfeng Park.The editor Deng told me an unexpected news on the phone. My original collection of novels was going to be republished. At the same time, this time it was put together with other people's collections and named "City Monsoon" series. "So, how much is printed?" I spoke slowly, word by word, because I had a bad tongue because I didn't say a word for seven days and seven nights.

"Set 10,000, of course, this is not very good, but you know that the market is very depressed now, affected by the economic crisis in Southeast Asia. To be honest, 10,000 is quite good. The publisher was hesitant at first, but I Tell them that the first edition of your book sold out in a short time. . . . " She smiled so modestly that I had to thank her immediately. "Royalties or manuscript remuneration?" I asked, and I found that my mind was gradually becoming flexible, as if a window was opened, and the bustle, noise, and chaos of the outside world, including tuberculosis bacteria and E. coli bacteria in the air, all rushed in.This messy energy activated my mind, and I was temporarily released from the prison of fiction again, temporarily released.

"Well, let's make an appointment for you to come out once, and some bookseller friends want to meet you." Deng said in a kind tone, "They heard from me that you are writing a new novel, and they really want to communicate with you. Let’s see if there is any possibility of cooperation. I think the more such opportunities, the better, what do you think?” She seems to have considered everything for me, she can be meticulous and attentive, and logically follow the laws of commodity social circulation. Arrangement, I just need to accept this gift that comes anytime, anywhere, I don’t know if she really likes my writing talent or something else, I still don’t see the need to be vigilant, so thank her, Promise to call her again in the future and make an appointment for a specific time and place. Then I called Madonna. She was still on the bed, her voice sounded vague and old. After she heard that it was me calling, she cleared her throat vigorously and said in a low voice to the people (obviously men) beside her: "Honey, thank you for giving me a glass of water?" she asked. Then she asked me what I was doing a while ago. I told her that I went to Haikou to find Tiantian and went to a drug rehabilitation center every day. I covered my head and wrote.She was visibly shocked, "What happened? Oh my God." She took a deep breath and hissed long. "Things are improving and I'm sure he'll recover," I said. "How are you?" She snorted, "What else can I do? My life will always be surrounded by alcohol and men, it will always be an illusion, until one day I will go away with the wind in a daze - if that day really comes, I will I'll thank God for that. By the way, if you have time this afternoon, let's meet up. I guess you're in a bad mood, and I haven't seen you for a long time. How about a swim? Go to the East Lake Hotel Open-air swimming, I have a gold card there. You know, the advantage of open-air swimming is that it can entertain others and yourself at the same time. Women want to attract men concisely and quickly. In addition to dancing dirty, there is also open-air swimming!" She laughed "hahaha", like the heroine in a Hollywood thriller. "Baby, I'm sorry, I'm like a yelling bitch now, that little bastard Dick has made me miserable, and my vitality has been severely damaged, okay, let's not talk, I will pick you up in a car, and there will be gifts for you .” By the edge of the blue water, Madonna and I were lying on a canvas chair, with a clear sky above our heads, the breeze was blowing, and the sun was like a piece of honey, touching the exposed skin with just the right viscosity.The skin that has been covered for a season is pale and unconvincing at first glance.I covered my body with a towel and watched the man in the water.His name is Ma Jianjun, and he was met by Madonna on a very dramatic occasion. One night, Madonna was racing on the street. At this time, there were few cars and few people on the road, and it was a safe time to go crazy.When she drove the car in the opposite direction into a one-way road full of beautiful sycamores, she was accidentally blocked by a police car slanting out from the shadows.Two police officers got out of the car.One of them has broad shoulders and long legs, with eyebrows and eyes like Pierce Brosnan, the protagonist of the new version of 007.When he said solemnly to Madonna, "Miss, you made a mistake", it was also very similar to 007's tone, except that he didn't have a gun in his hand, and he didn't have that little evil spirit. Madonna gave him a dazed look under the streetlight, and three seconds later she fell in love with this handsome policeman.She obediently paid the fine and gave him her cell phone number by the way.As for what prompted this handsome policeman to make up his mind to have a relationship with a lonely woman who drove wildly late at night, it is unknown. "He said he thought my hands were beautiful. When I passed the money through the car window, he noticed that I had a pair of charming hands, slender and fair. The fingers seemed to be enchanted by the light of the diamond ring, like A pair of artificial hands of a plaster cast." Madonna whispered, laughing.I found that those hands were in great contrast to her face, surprisingly young, like the stunner possessed by beanbag girls. "Whatever he says, he's willing to fuck me anyway, it's so cool, and every time he knocks on my door in his uniform, I get soaked in three seconds." She looked at me, and I was Preoccupied. "Hey, be happy, let's go swimming." She said, walked to the pool, and jumped in.At this time, more and more people were swimming in the water, and a pair of Japanese men with black fine hair and bow legs were immersed in the water and looked towards me. I took off my sunglasses and lifted the towel to reveal a red bikini. The red color against the pale skin looks like a creamy strawberry salad in the sun.I jumped into the water hastily, and a soft and transparent force supported my body. I still had nowhere to hide in the sun. Even if I closed my eyes, other people's eyes could still penetrate the water and see this path. Strawberry Salad. I don't know why my psychological feelings become weird. The half-naked eyes of strangers looking at me still give me an instinctive sense of satisfaction, but when I think of myself being exposed to the broad daylight like a dessert, my heart aches. The subconscious will be furious again, and feminist thinking will rear its head. Why do I look like a superficial, brainless Barbie doll?Those men would probably never guess that I am a novelist who has been confined in a room for seven days and seven nights, and they probably wouldn't care about it. To pay attention to a strange woman in public, you only need to look at her measurements. As for her There is something in your head that is no more a concern than the number of steps leading to the White House. My mood didn't improve after the swim, especially after seeing Madonna flirting with her police boyfriend, I was so frustrated that I sneezed in the locker room. "Little poor, the anxiety in your heart has reduced the secretion of endorphins, you should pay attention to your health!" Madonna wrapped me in a big towel and whispered softly in my ear, "Look at me, I have a boyfriend I have never had a cold since then, do you know why? The expert’s answer is that a harmonious sexual relationship can improve the body’s immunity, so I don’t sneeze or have a runny nose.” She kissed me on the face, and then she suddenly remembered that there was still a gift in the handbag, "Wait a minute, I have a surprise for you." "what?" "Close your eyes." She laughed, and I closed my eyes, thinking it's no big deal, she always likes to play tricks. "Okay, open your eyes." She slammed something up to the tip of my nose, and I took a step back, only to realize that it was a female sex toy, a real plastic vibrator, and she opened it Pack it, take out the pink penis, hold it on the palm of your hand and show it to me carefully. "Oh, thanks, I don't need this." I said quickly. "I haven't used it. It's new. After that little bastard Dick left me, I thought I'd need this thing, but I didn't use it in the end. This thing can't satisfy the hole in my heart." She Put on a weird smile, as if painful and lustful, "—I mean spiritual comfort. But now I have a man again, and you are depressed now, must be lonely and sympathetic, this thing Useful." "No, no, thanks." I was blushing because the thing looked really hard-on and horribly big.I thought to myself that I would rather use my own fingers, which are softer and more reliable. "Take it, please." She was still laughing. "No." I laughed too. "Well, you're such a lady, but in fact, we are connected in our bones." She made an ugly grimace with a look of seeing through me, "Seriously, make an appointment to see Tian Tian . . . He's been like a nightmare since I've known him, and of course it's a lucky thing that he met you, and I know how much a man like him longs for love." "...But I have always felt sorry for him, and I always feel that I am another nightmare of his. We hold hands, like two traveling companions in the night." "Honey, don't think too much, I know you feel uncomfortable, this is not something other women can handle, in fact you are different, if you feel lonely, call me, I can send my man A friend can lend it to you, or the three of you can do it together." She laughed again.This is her characteristic way of expressing her disdain for normal life.I'm sure she walks the talk, even though it's uncanny and slightly sweet and gross. We had dinner together at Yang's Kitchen, which is owned by a Taiwanese.During the dinner, her police boyfriend seemed to have a good impression of me. I could feel him taking a sip of red wine, and then he put his knee on mine.I remained calm, my mouth was filled with the delicious juice of stinkbugs, and I thought to myself, what is so different about a policeman in bed?Maybe it will treat every woman under him as a bad citizen and severely suppress it, which will be ruthless and for a long time? As I thought about it, a wonderful saliva flowed from the tip of my tongue, and there was a special warmth in my stomach, as if being pinched by a big hand. Madonna yelled, "What the hell is going on?" She was furious and dropped the chopsticks heavily.The opposite knee suddenly stopped moving, and I couldn't help laughing. The waiter hurried over. "Why is there such a disgusting thing? I bet your cook will end up bald, and I'll curse him to no hair." She gestured rudely at a pot of soup. The manager of the restaurant also came over. He apologized repeatedly and asked the waiter to take away the bowl of wolfberry and black-bone chicken soup with a hair floating in front of her.After a while, a new pot of soup and a complimentary dessert were served. When I got home at night, I found a gift from Madonna in the bag, which she must have slipped in. "What a crazy woman," I thought, shaking my head, and putting the thing in a drawer.After taking a shower, I went to bed. Drowsiness swept over my body like a half-moon tide, and it was the easiest time to fall asleep in many days.My daily life, my novels, my anxieties, and the problems of my fucking life are all thrown into the bottomless pit, and I can get a good night's sleep first. Dear CoCo, there is no need to be sad. After waking up, it will be another day after another day. Early the next morning, the fat lady next door found a letter and a postcard in my mailbox, and she enthusiastically brought it for me as usual. I thanked her, went to the sofa and sat down, the letter was from Daily, and the postcard was from Mark from Mexico.I hesitated for a while, and decided to read the postcard first. On the picture was a huge pagoda-like cactus standing in a desert, with illegible English written on the back. "Honey, I'm on a business trip to Mexico, a dirty but exciting place full of marijuana, tricycles and sad women with black hair and blue eyes. I've had some of the hottest febo peppers in the world in restaurants , the next time I kiss you, you're going to be pissed off, I guess. PS: Our client, a multinational pressure-resistant glass manufacturer, is very difficult to deal with. I will also go to Europe to investigate the glass market and the situation of a competitor named by the client to investigate with our colleagues in the German headquarters.See you in half a month. PPS: I can't even call you. Consider going to an Internet bar. I can help you apply for a free Hotmail mailbox. kiss you!mark. " I kissed the postcard and for a while my phone hung up, thinking he could guess I was writing a novel.I don't have to worry about him at all, he is a mainstay man in this mainstream society, he is handsome and smart, has an enviable job, is good at handling all kinds of complicated and difficult social relationships, and is good at balancing himself (he is a typical Libra ), he is also like a fish in water when it comes to relationships with women. As long as he is willing, even if I go to Antarctic Island, he can try to contact me. His abilities seem to be bestowed by Zeus, while Tiantian is completely opposite to him. They are like people in two worlds, and they are intertwined with each other with their reflections projected on my body. I found a silver letter cutter on the desk. I usually don't open letters in such a ostentatious way, but this time I use this method to calm me down. I only wrote a thin piece of paper every day.