Chapter 25 25. Is it Love or Desire?

A man's happiness is: I want A woman's happiness is: he wants —— Nietzsche's Su Luzhi Quotations Making love to a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate emotions, The former is lust, the latter is love. --Milan Kundera Every day came back, and an important space in my life was filled again, and every night we fell asleep breathing each other's breath, and every morning we opened our eyes and hungrily kissed when our stomachs growled.The more we kiss, the hungrier we get. I think it must be love that makes us so hungry. The refrigerator is full of fruits, various brands of ice cream, suitable for making vegetable salad raw materials.We aspire to live a vegan life, as simple and unassuming as possible, like the apes who lived in the forest tens of thousands of years ago, although they did not have refrigerators, ice cream, Simmons and flush toilets.

The "thread ball" is still wild and hard to change. It maintains the habit of living between the garbage bin on the street corner and our house. It goes back and forth regularly between two o'clock and one line. (responsible for bathing and disinfecting it every day), and when Monday arrives, it leaves the apartment on time like an office worker with its tail between its legs, wandering freely on the street, calling friends and meowing for spring when night falls, even though It is wandering on the garbage, dirt and filth everywhere, and still has the feeling of being content and enjoying it.

For a period of time, cats downstairs could be heard meowing one after another in the middle of the night. The neighborhood committee organized manpower to rectify all places where cats could hide in the block, especially the trash cans. As expected, there were a lot fewer wild cats, but the string balls were still operating in this block unharmed.It seems to have the abnormal ability to escape any catastrophe, and the fate is also great. Occasionally, it will bring a tomcat back for the night. We guess that if there is a "cat gang", the thread ball may be a female gang leader, who can pamper anyone in the gang. A big tomcat.

As for me, I fell into a writing paralysis. There are still about 50,000 words before the end of the novel, but my brain is empty, as if all the imagination, wisdom, and flames leaked out of the two ear holes overnight.The words under the pen were smelly and astringent. After writing and tearing up, I simply threw the ballpoint pen into the waste basket, and even my speech stuttered.Whether on the phone or chatting with Tiantian, I try to avoid using adjectives, subject + predicate + object, or imperative sentences, such as "don't comfort me, please torture me". Tian Tian hid in another room, concentrating on drawing illustrations for the temporarily collapsed novel I had in hand.He stayed behind closed doors in that room most of the time, when I got worried because of some kind of speculation, I pushed the door open suddenly, I didn't smell that unusual smell in the air, and I didn't see him What an unusual move.

Since he came back from drug rehab, I cleaned the house carefully and spent the morning checking every corner for marijuana or other suspicious things. After confirming that there were no traces of the past in the house, I built a sense of security around us. He was in a pile of paint, looking for the true colors of things in the chaotic world like Da Vinci.Work miracles of love with ribs like Adam in the apple orchard. "I can't do anything, I think I'm going to die, I don't have any enthusiasm or inspiration, I may be an ordinary girl who is suffering from paranoia about writing a book and becoming famous." I said weakly, watching Looking at the beautiful pictures spread all over the table, I feel really sad that I have to let down his love and his dreams.

"You won't." He said without raising his head, "You just want to take a break and take the opportunity to complain and act like a baby." "You think so?" I looked at him in surprise, his words sounded different and interesting. "Complaining to yourself, acting like a baby to someone you like." He said very smartly, "It's one of the ways to relieve inner pressure." "It sounds like the logic of my psychiatrist David Wu, but I'm glad you think so." "Will the publisher agree to use these illustrations?" He put down his pen and asked me. I approached the table and looked through the works one by one. Some were just drafts, while others were exquisite finished products. The lines are simple and slightly exaggerated. The necks of Montego Arni are all long, and the eyes are narrow and thin, which is unique to oriental people, conveying a trace of sadness, as well as humor and innocence.

And this is a common characteristic between my words and his paintings. "I love these illustrations. Even if my novel is not finished, they can stand on their own and be exhibited in public. People will like it." I reached over and kissed him on the lips. "Promise me, I will If you keep painting, I believe you will become a great painter." "I haven't thought about it," he said quietly, "and I don't necessarily have to be famous and rich." To be honest, he never had any ambitions, and never will.There is an old Chinese saying "3 years old and 80 years old", which means that even if a person grows from 3 years old to 80 years old, he will never change something in himself. The picture of life when I am old.

"It's not a matter of being famous or not, but giving yourself a solid psychological support, a reason to live a happy life." I insisted, and there was another sentence I didn't say: "It also makes you permanently free from drugs and drugs. A thrust of claustrophobic living." If he had the desire to be a great painter, it was on this point that most of his attention would be concentrated. I once wrote a sentence before: Life is like a chronic disease, and finding something meaningful for yourself to do becomes a long-term treatment. "The crux of all problems is: never lie to yourself." He said simply, giving me a sharp look in his eyes (he rarely had such a look, and after he came out of the drug rehabilitation center, some subtle changes in him continued one after another. continuously revealed), as if I was deceiving myself and others with righteous and awe-inspiring principles of life, and created a delicious and sweet trap.

"Well, you're right," I said as I walked outside, "that's why I love you." "CoCo." He stopped me from behind, wiped the wet paint on his hands with a tissue, with a tense and happy expression, "You know what I mean, - every morning when I open my eyes, I can see you by my pillow , I feel 100% happy." Before I met Mark, I had hesitated to find any reason to go out, but it turned out that going out on a tryst didn't need an excuse at all.I played "Empire Strikes Back" at Madonna's house every day, and I said I would play combos all night. I hung up the phone, put on a waist-clamping transparent gown and black low-slung pants, painted silver powder on my cheekbones, and went out.

I saw a long-armed and long-legged Mark at the intersection of Yongfu Road and Fuxing Road. He was neatly dressed and fragrant, standing under a street lamp, as if he had just stepped off a movie and drifted over from the Pacific Ocean.My exotic lover has wickedly beautiful blue eyes, an unrivaled ass, and a dick that's horribly big.Every time I see him, I think that I am willing to die for him, under him, and every time I leave him, I think that he is the one who should die. When he fell off me, he picked me up unsteadily and walked into the bathroom, when he put his hand with shower gel between my legs, carefully washing his remaining semen and secretion from the vagina Comes out, when he erects again impulsively, picks me up and puts it on his belly, when we make love again in the shower gel, when I see him panting under my parted thighs, call me When all the sweat and all the water and all the orgasms hit our bodies at the same time, I thought the German should die.

Close your eyes, there is always a thin line between the sex instinct and the death instinct. In the novel "Desire Pistol", I arranged for the heroine's father to die when his daughter and the officer's lover reached climax for the first and last time. , that story brought me vitriol from male admirers and the media. We hugged and kissed, walked hand in hand through an iron gate, walked through a garden, and walked into a small video theater amidst the scent of purple hydrangeas.I stood far away in the corner behind the seat, watching Mark say hello and chat with his blond friends in German.One of the short-haired women looked at me from time to time. The way foreign women look at Chinese mistresses brought by their compatriots is always subtle, a bit like looking at an intruder. Foreign women in China have a far range in choosing lovers or husbands. Far smaller than foreign men, they generally don't like Chinese men, but countless Chinese women compete with them for foreign men. At certain moments with Mark, I would have a deep sense of shame, and I would be taken for the same as other Chinese turtle-fishing women, because such women are very cheap and will do whatever they can to get out of the country.For this reason, I always stood in the corner with a straight face, and responded with glaring and cold glances to Mark's affectionate eyes.very funny. Mark came over and said to me, let's have a cup of coffee with the female director after the movie. There were too many people, and we stood and watched all the time. I admit that I couldn't quite understand the sleepwalking pictures of glaciers and trains.But I think this female director is trying to express a sense of survival fear and helplessness shared by all human beings. She chose to use a powerful form of expression, and the color of the film is very charming. The strong contrast between white and black There is also a wonderful harmony of purple and blue in the middle, and you will not find this purely artistic and attractive color collage in Shanghai fashion stores.I love directors who can make films like this. At the end of the movie, I met the director Shamir, an Aryan woman with shaved hair cut to a manly length and wearing a short black skirt. She has wild green eyes and long, straight legs.Mark introduced me to her, she looked at me with that special look, and stretched out her hand cautiously, but I stretched out my arm and gave her a hug. She seemed a little surprised, but very happy. As Mark had told me beforehand, Shamil was a real Lesbian.From the way she looked at me, there was a kind of secluded emotion that was different from the communication between ordinary women. We sat by the carved guardrail on the 97th floor of the Park, and drank amidst the flickering lights, warm murals, and the smell of music. He looked up and saw us, and hurriedly made a "Hello" gesture. Shamir coughed, took my red satin embroidered handbag, looked at it carefully for a while, smiled at me, and said, "It's very cute." I nodded and smiled at her. "I have to admit, I didn't fully understand your movie." Mark first said to Shamir. “Me too,” I said, “but I was fascinated by the colors on the screen, the lights fighting against each other and yet alluring each other, a color combination that is hard to see in other movies or street fashion stores.” She laughs, "I didn't think about the relationship between the fashion house and my film." "After reading it, I feel like a dream I had before, or a story someone told me, maybe it was the emotion I felt in a moment when I read CoCo's novels before. All in all, I like this feeling very much.... For example, to open something first Broken and then put back together, it's sentimental." Shamir made a gesture of covering her chest with her hands, "Really?" There was a strange childish voice in her voice, her gestures were suddenly as quiet as water, and then burst out suddenly, when she agreed with your opinion, she would Reach for your wrist and say emphatically, "Yes, that's it." This is one woman who can impress.She has a lot of experience. She has been to the Arctic to shoot a film, and climbed a frozen waterfall called the "Wall of Weeping", which is like a wall formed by frozen tears.At present, she works in DAAD, the largest cultural exchange organization in Germany, responsible for the field of film and television images, and knows all the underground film practitioners and avant-garde filmmakers in Beijing and Shanghai.Every year, this institution holds exchange activities and invites artists from countries including China to Germany.There are a lot of people who like her, and my liking for her comes directly from the movie "Journey" I just saw. She asked about my novels, and I told them all the chaotic but true stories that took place in this post-colonial garden in Shanghai. "There is a novel translated into German, if you are interested, I can give it to you." I said sincerely.It was translated for me by a German boy who fell in love with me when I was studying at Fudan University. He was a top student and went to study in Berlin before he graduated. She smiled at me, that smile was like an unknown flower blooming in the spring breeze.She handed me a business card with e-mail address, telephone number, fax number and mail address, "Don't lose it, we will have a chance to meet in the future." She said. "Oh, you're in love with CoCo," Mark joked. "So what?" Shamir laughed, "This is a different girl, not only smart, but also beautiful, a terrifying baby... I believe she can say and do anything." These words immediately moved It touched me, and my whole body froze for an instant, feeling like an electric shock.I still don't understand why it is always women who know women best.A woman always reveals with unerring precision the most subtle and secret qualities of another woman. For this kind of words of kindness, before we parted, we stood in the shadow of the tree at the entrance of the Park and kissed intimately.The moistness and warmth of her lips attracted me like a strange pistil, a sudden sensual pleasure, our tongues twisted together as silky and dangerous as precious silk.I can't tell how this ambiguous boundary with a strange woman is crossed, from conversation to kiss, from farewell kiss to lustful kiss. A street light suddenly went out, and a heavy but detached feeling came. One of her hands touched my chest, gently twisting the protruding nipple like a flower bud through the corset, and the other hand slipped up to my thighs. The street lights suddenly reappeared. I woke up like a dream and broke free from the inexplicable attraction. Mark stood aside and quietly enjoyed this scene, as if enjoying the situation. "You're so cute—it's a pity that I'm going back to China tomorrow." Shamir said softly, and then she hugged Mark, "See you soon." Sitting in Mark's Buick, I was still in a daze. "I don't know why it's like that..." I said, stroking my hair. "You got mesmerized by her movies first," Mark said, grabbing my hand and kissing it. "It's thrilling to have a smart woman kiss another smart woman. Smart is sexy." That doesn't sound like it at all Men's chauvinism, on the contrary, compassion and tolerance move women. For this sentence, I flew wet all the way to his apartment that was big enough to go crazy.Turn on the record player, put on a plate of Xu Lixian's pingtan arias, and walk towards the kitchen while undressing. He suddenly remembered that there was my favorite blueberry jelly in the refrigerator, motioned me to wait for a while, then walked into the kitchen, heard a sound of tinkling plates, and then he walked to the kitchen naked with a plate of jelly and a silver spoon. beside the bed. "Honey, take a bite," he fed it to my mouth with a silver spoon. We shared this plate of delicious jelly one by one, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.He pushed me down, bowed his head like an Adriatic caveman, and kissed my belly with his cold, sweet tongue. "You have an incomparably wonderful private part. I can't find another beauty like this in the distance from Berlin to Shanghai." I stared blankly at the big flower board with my eyes open. The pleasure of the flesh paralyzed my brain perception and seized me. Took all my IQ. The "Most Beautiful Private Part Award" sounds good, perhaps far more exciting to a woman than the "Best Novel Award of the Year". He eats a jelly and eats me like a cannibal chieftain.I quickly exploded uncontrollably when he stepped forward. "Want to have a baby?" he muttered irresponsibly, poking hard.For a moment, the sex felt so overwhelming that I had sex with every man in the world.