Chapter 8 Redemption

one Peach blossoms fell into my eyes.One slice two slices many slices.It's pink, crimson, and red.But I still can't be as proud as a rabbit. two I regularly put Tori Amos music on before I go to sleep. It was about five past eleven.I just brushed my teeth and let my hair loose in front of the mirror.turn off the lights.She must be sick and convulsing all the time, and I am content in her pain. I saw her as a girl.Girls, not women.She was wearing a cute dress she liked, and a new warm hat.She just became famous.Recognized by some decent people.She sat next to the piano, and the applause and the piano were intertwined.She laughed comfortably.She just took a lot of photo sets.She likes her new attire.Run like a young fawn.She wore a bright apple-green loose sweater, her eyebrows were also lemon-colored, and like all the pictorials, she was a bestseller.

She likes such rampage happiness.She, sitting next to her piano, came to everyone like a speeding train.Everyone said: We love you. She is on the street now.She travels from one place to another.Drive for a while in the clear night.She thought about her happiness and hummed a song from her new record by the way. How did she know that the dirty eyes of the man behind were surging with a desire rising in the gutter!How could she know.She was ahead, and happiness was right in front of her, and she looked at it and could see nothing else. The man rushed in front of her.Happiness is covered entirely.She saw the man's overflowing desire right in front of her.She can't see anything else.

I can't remember which year this was Tori Amos' story.If I remember correctly, it should be the year when she was very unlucky. My favorite is her record called Boys For Pele.The record jacket has two of the scariest pictures I've ever seen.She was sitting obliquely on a wooden chair, wearing an old gray suspender top, her whole leg protruding from the skirt wrapped in blue coarse cloth, and a shotgun lay across her body.Her hands held the gun with infinite love, like hugging a cheerful guitar.Mud from knee to ankle, cold in color.At the foot is a curled up boa constrictor.Her hair was the same maroon as the handle of her gun, and she had a peaceful smile.

She laughs, or whispers a violent story.She is very content. In another, she is sitting in front of a window, the warm light washing her lazy face.Her bronze-coloured cloth was open, half-exposing her breasts.She is nursing a piglet.The pink piggy closed its eyes and pressed its mouth against her breast.Her face is full of maternal love. But it was a pig after all.So how shocking is this painting.She and the pig spoke soft words, and they loved each other triumphantly in the morning light. Tori Amos, on a street full of male desires.She saw desire rushing out suddenly in this barren night like a pedestrian in the daytime.But they did not love her.To destroy her.

The man stood in front of her and emphasized, I am your admirer and I like your song. hey-hey. Her noble music was liked by his bastard.Then there was her person, and now her body. The man hugged her after speaking. The black body of the black night covered the fledgling girl. I can't remember which year Tori Amos was raped by her fans on a black street.It was a black man, he said emphatically: I like you. I love the woman who suckled the pigs.For her placid surface lurks a choppy terror.I even suspect that her understanding of sex is distorted and equally full of fear.She started to be domineering.Aloof, she likes the way she looks chaste.She tries to keep herself clean.She tries to cleanse herself with animals and music and nature and everything but man.

I have the same desire as this woman.clean wish.So I love her. Besides, she looks like a friend of mine.more and more like. three I am a virgin. I emphasize this not to flaunt my purity, nor to regret my ignorance.I just think about that phrase a lot.Sometimes there is one more word: I am still a virgin. I know the journey from yes to no, it hurts.This is inevitable.But no girl like me, it hurts to think "I'm a virgin".If sometimes I think about that word more, it will hurt even more. I finally understood that it was me, not Tori Amos, who was terrified of sex.It's my subconscious wishing that this woman I'm in awe of will share my sympathy.

I pictured her running down the street and drowning in lust.I think her butterfly lips finally stopped screaming.Her hair luxuriantly covered her humiliated face.She hoped that it was a fresh start of mountain flowers.She is the newborn land, a land where nothing has ever happened. I have always lived in a big city.I see sex a lot.See and hear.But I don't want to talk about it, let alone be contaminated. I accept cigarettes, I accept alcohol.The only thing I resist is sex. TV at night.I see blinding white beds. I saw Leung Ka Fai's shoulders and back. I saw the cat-like eyes of girls at night.

Duras's bell is like Sadako's. I was in so much pain halfway through, I got up to run away. I watched it with Guoguo.We used to snuggle up and watch DVDs together.Our hands are stacked, and here and there we make comments that are forever lacking in relevance. This time I said to her in disgust: This girl is really lewd. She looked at my long, unkempt hair and was so angry that it was about to burn. She said what's the matter with you, you are abnormal. I sneer.hehe. She said what's the matter with you. I couldn't help sneering.Hehehehe. She said you're sick again.

I said, Guoguo, I just found that you are just like this girl. She paused, she understood very well.She already understood.She continued, it's been so long, why can't you forgive me? What is forgiveness.Is forgiveness the chocolate we share or is it the bouquet I'll hold at your wedding? She started apologizing, sorry.Sorry.It is my fault.But I didn't get anything. I said what do you want.Don't you like to make yourself completely bad? ! Guoguo started to cry.But this time, the only time, I didn't cry with her.Not even comfort was offered.I turn off the TV.The bed in the dark room on the TV, the girl's elastic body like a rubber band, and the man's back all disappeared.

Guoguo said, Xiaoran, can we still be friends?It's too hard, I can't stand it.It's been a long time, and you have never let me go. Guoguo, it's not that I won't let you go, it's just that I really want to let you go, let you go.Let you and the rotten time leave along the direction of the water flow.Come on, be quiet.Prove yourself as white as snow and melt before my eyes like snow. She walked out the door of my house.This time I can no longer predict when she will walk in next time.She knows, it is impossible for me to develop any more friends.I have been living in the oxygen she exhaled, although it may not be fresh, but it is enough to rely on.

She is like a rainbow, hanging wet and shining in the corner of my heart.Sometimes the imprint is too deep, more like a wound.Flow colorful blood, deceive me with confusing colors, make me temporarily forget the pain. Four I now have a lover named Ochre.I have a lover, but I'm not sure if I love him or not. I'm such a messy person, my fear of sex migrated to love anyway. My lover and I can no longer love each other. My lover is a small child.He is a little younger than me.Still love the bucket hat and baby face popsicles.He still likes to paint and write poetry.He still felt that the world was bright.The worst part is that he always thought I was a kid.A child as clean as his poetry. He is a polite boy.No record of making me cry and never got into fights.Quiet as an endangered koala. Most importantly, he never mentions sex.We just kissed and his eyelashes blinked and I felt like I was kissing an angel. This is precious to a sick child like me.He doesn't cause me pain. I like him, maybe just because he's a kid.This child in a state of ignorance will not come to see me, and will not tell me a dream that still has an aftertaste from yesterday to today. We played Dear Tori Amos on the record player.The woman we all like.But boys won't know what's on my mind. He couldn't see, Tori Amos ran on the long street at night, until my heart ran too.Her shoes were wet, and her tears washed away the colorful girl's clothes.She is a woman.She grew up on a street.She no longer likes bright colors and no longer likes men. I am running with my idol.I joined her in saying we were going to clean up and clean up. He won't know these things my love.He thought that I would always sit quietly beside him and listen to music. But it was only a brief moment of silence.When he grows up, he understands that he will be dominated by his peach-colored dreams and his overflowing desires.He will definitely say to me suggestively like my previous boyfriend: It must be beautiful to have sex. how bad.Surely we will never be able to sit together in silence again. Although I guess I love him, I will still say to my ex-boyfriend: Get out of here. So I live in panic.His growing up is a threat to me. He is not my pet, but I will still treat my pet like a little girl, and before he grows up, I will throttle my love for him and abandon him. Sorry, my love, my ocher.I don't think I will be able to have a marriage in my life, and certainly not have children.I will hold my clean faith as I grow old.My ailments become apparent with age.I'd be weird and unsociable.When I was very old, I would move back to my parents' house because I was afraid of being alone.They would look at me with the same sad eyes.They took me in, but they didn't like me the way they liked me when I was a kid. I'm going to age really fast. I am still a virgin. I am still a virgin. I was always a virgin. This is my future.I can't even get my friend Guoguo back.We had a quarrel.This is inevitable.Our quarrel had cause and effect, our quarrel was well-founded, and our quarrel ended with her blatant rainbow evaporating in my heart.From then on, the rainy days continued, the sky never cleared, and there was nowhere to hang the rainbow after the rain. The bible says that true love is when the person hurts you or hurts you, you still love. But there is no definition of love in the Bible.I admit that I still love Guoguo, but this does not prevent me from loving her while hurting her.Behavior is as despicable as she used to be. Fives I used to have ignorant and pure sexual fantasies. Guoguo and I have an agreement as bright as a peach blossom.We're going to have our firsts on the same day, at the same moment. The pain will be less painful together. We met when we were twelve and have been friends for six years.We are twin flowers.Same corolla, same leaf stem.Of course we should also grow up together. We were in separate rooms, clean beds, both boys in love. We want a lot of petals of roses in full bloom, we want a lot of light from glass lamps, we want soft music, we want pink lace pajamas. Also, we want a small piece of white cotton.We are stubborn, even conservative, in wanting to keep that blood.They will quickly attach to the white cotton cloth, they sing about our transformation, or it may be counted as a song.They soon had their own stance on the cotton—the stance of an unalterable flower. Those scorching peach blossoms that love blooms. The only boy I ever had sexual fantasies about, he wasn't Ocher. He has always been a polite classmate with me.All the while, we have lived in harmony and appreciated each other.But I think we are not far away.We take one more step and we will be together.He was the only man I ever thought of marrying. His teeth and hair can be used to shoot commercials, and his face is so red that it looks like a dough man that I loved when I was a child and was always stuck in a pen holder. I pointed him out to Guoguo. Guoguo said, he is not very good.I said Guoguo, you have to accept him, because you love me the most and want to marry him. The little me, wearing a spotless white school uniform skirt, stood not far from him, made exaggerated gestures, and called his name loudly.He was clearly seen by me.I even saw his lush hair grow wild in the sun like his passion. Has this ever happened? I've been thinking about it all the time. six Ocher and I went to the countryside.We pick fresh ears of wheat.Ready to go back and dye them in various colors, they will look better than the flowers. Ocher wears overalls and a wide-brimmed, cowboy-style hat. This is my present, this is my lover. I watched him absentmindedly picking wheat in the distance.Maybe he's close to me, I'm not sure, I can't see clearly, but I feel his lush hair growing wildly in the sun too.Beautiful hair, glowing like a lamp.Is ocher a lamp.He's on and warm isn't he.I want to say his name out loud. But I'm afraid I'll call out another name. seven It is Guoguo, my dearest friend who looks like Tori Amos. She is also like Tori Amos, a seductive and fascinating woman. She is half a year younger than me.She is my dearest sister. She drinks and smokes more than me.Her smile is older than mine.She matures rapidly.She is beyond beautiful. She is the bewitching rainbow.More winding than a rainbow. Guoguo, I don't know the direction you are going.Do you want to keep stretching like this domineeringly? My serious illness started on her eighteenth birthday.Her eighteenth birthday was very different.I routinely run all over the city to buy the prettiest cards.Buy sunflowers the size of your face.I kissed her as usual, and I kissed her again, and I said, congratulations, Guoguo, congratulations on growing up. Guoguo looked at me and cried. I was so surprised, I wiped her tears and said: Is growing up so hard for you? She said, Xiaoran, you see, I am eighteen years old.I grew up.So today I have something to confess to you.I once did and missed one thing. The expression is not exaggerated.But I knew something must be serious. She said sorry. I've agreed, let's talk, you are my sister, and I will always love you no matter what wrong you do. She smiled gratefully.The smile was as cold as the cold Siberian wind that hit the city yesterday evening. I've had sex with people.That's what she said.After a while, I started crying again. Still worse than I thought.I don't know if I'm sorry, surprised or annoyed.I think it's my precious sister.We have an agreement as bright as a peach blossom. Peach blossoms can be shredded, but promises cannot be broken. The peach blossoms fell into the eyes.One slice two slices many slices. I finally asked: when? two years ago.she says. Two years, a long time.I should have found that she has grown rapidly in these two years.And I was still an ignorant child.But I suddenly looked at her very distressed.I asked gently: Does it hurt? It hurts.she says.It hurts a lot.It hurts more than you think.she says. I twitched.I asked, so, who is it? She finally got stuck.I heard her body rumble like a machine. I felt her inside trying to crush and kill that name. That name would be a hard weapon. What she said was the name of the boy I love.I have read it many times, and it is a very eloquent and pleasant word. The name is a hard murder weapon.It cut off the rainbow and tore all the peach blossoms. I said, not bad, you are my sister, you can replace me in every aspect. She shook her head.She said, sister, I was wrong.You said he was fine, I just want to get close to him to see if he is really like you like.I'm curious I didn't mean any harm.But I've had my payback.I'm in a lot of pain.like a conspiracy.He took me to a dilapidated hotel and even bought me emergency contraceptives. Guoguo's little lips, which were as transparent as cherries, were still moving, and she continued to talk and talk: Also, there is no clean white cotton cloth, no.Nothing at all.No respect.Only pain and filthy sheets.He disgusts me.You know how I wish there were white cotton cloths, that make me forget the pain, that make me feel worth it.That puts me at ease. I cry at the same moment.This is how my prince was pulled off the white horse.He is no longer brave. There is no white cotton, so the flowers of twisted love bloom. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. That's when my fear of sex started. I should pity my sister.I want to pour all my hatred on the boy who has healthy teeth and hair and everything is fine.But no. I split my love equally between the boy and Guoguo.So my hate will also be shared equally. I hugged Guoguo, that moment.But the rainbow turns into rain and becomes nothing. Guoguo, I still love you.But even the Bible doesn't define how I love you.I love you while hurting you. Guoguo and I have been arguing constantly.Till we look, we are bound to part. Eight I met ocher on a trip.That was the winter when I was eighteen.My first time traveling alone. Mom took me to the airport.We have met ocher.Ocher and I are in the same high school and are my juniors.We only vaguely know each other's names.My mother entrusted me to him and asked him to take care of me who didn't understand anything. We started chatting in the airport terminal at night. I said I am older than you, I don't need you to take care of me. He nodded with a smile.He doesn't believe me.Indeed, I seem to be in need of care, and always have been. From southern cities to northern cities.It started to snow.He owed me a tape of his speech when we said goodbye.That's it, he comes and delivers me tapes, and then again and again, we always promise to bring something to each other next time, we always owe each other something.Never paid off again. When ocher came into my life, I knew I might be temporarily saved.But I'm already stuck with Dark Light and Tori Amos.and my sexual fears.He is still a child.When he finds out about my illness, he will leave me.Or maybe I found out he was grown up first and I was furious.I leave him. But he is different from all my boyfriends.He is a white boy.When I was with him, I could often hear the sound of angels flapping their wings beside him.rustling. He regularly goes to a western restaurant with large French windows and a lawn.I found out later that it was because there was a reading club he liked there.There is a large window, which contains all kinds of rare books in English.He is a member.They exchange books. His home has a semi-circular balcony, and he nails colorful buttons on the curtains. His belief in Christ was not predestined.He always said, I just hope God can see my hard work. There are always tickets for art exhibitions and dramas sent by good friends in his mailbox. He never quarrels with others.For those who comment on his dislike, he will always say that he is not familiar with them.He went to see Guoguo alone.Just want to ask Guoguo, if I drink minestrone soup, do I reject carrots, and if I eat pizza, do I reject onions.And all kinds of things I like to eat.He remembered them all. He was late coming back from a trip with me, and he would call my mom when he got home.He apologized.I'm sorry, auntie, it was my mistake that made Xiaoran come home late.You don't blame her.He even made his mother and my mother friends.They can have a very long chat with me as the topic, and they are very interested. We are a good fit.If time goes back to before Guoguo was eighteen years old, I would still be a healthy child. Nine Finally one summer afternoon after Ocher High School, my Ocher grew up. We sit opposite each other.He said Xiaoran, look, I graduated.I think I have the ability to promise that I will marry you in the future. My face immediately changed color.I worry about him going on.Speaking of what I was afraid to hear.This is ocher which I love.I can't tell him, fuck off. Ocher, you don't know I can't hear anything.In my heart, Tori Amos was running again.She was overtaken by black people.Her path to happiness was blocked.She cried and she sang. Ocher, Guoguo is my beloved sister. There are more photos of her in my photo album than mine.She and the boy went to a dark place.As dark as the street where Tori Amos was.The boy, the boy I love, smiled slyly.Gutter filthy lust like that black person's smile.They are together. Don't talk ocher. I finally opened my mouth to stop what was coming, all right all right.I see. He said, Xiaoran, I have been waiting for this day for a long time.I think I have something to tell you. This is a speech pattern I am familiar with.Like fruit.At her bar mitzvah, after accepting my gift and my blessing, she told me what happened when she was sixteen and the boy I loved.No calico and respected love. I started crying again.I've said enough, stop it.I don't have the strength to hate anyone anymore. Ocher put on the most pained expression I've ever known him.How good it was that he had no pain.Why grow up.He said, Xiaoran, I know everything about you, Guoguo.Guoguo told me.I have been pretending not to know, but in fact I am not a child who knows nothing like you think.I really fell in love with you, like a vow of marriage, regardless of sickness and pain.And I must marry you. What do you know, except hurt me!I yell. I will never hurt you, we will never do anything you don't like.But I still want to marry you.We listened quietly to Tori Amos, her hurt has nothing to do with you.You know, you know, isn't Tori married too?She wore a snow-white wedding dress and smiled so innocently.She is very happy now.You can too, but you have to keep me in your life.I can hold it up. I will always respect you.he said finally. I stared at him with red eyes.He is a fool.To redeem such a patient with his life.I said, never mind, Ocher, that's not fair to you. You love me is fair to me, you let me live in your life is fair to me.He said.He came up to me and kissed me. I love ocher.I want to give him justice. Under the strong sunlight of this summer, I opened my squinted and crying eyes.I look at this boy.I could see him clearly.Including his hair, which grows wildly in the sun.And the pink under his eyes. The pink is so bright, it can bloom peach blossoms. Peach blossoms fell into my eyes, one piece, two pieces, many pieces. I asked God if I had the chance to grow peach blossoms again. God and all who love me stand behind ocher.They say: Be proud, my dear children. Finally stopped.A woman running on a black street.From girl to woman.She was already standing on the other side of the street brightly in a white silk wrought dress.The other side of another street.She said she was cured.She asked again: What about you?How are you doing? I?Me, I finally called his name.Ocher Ocher Ocher.This time I will not call the wrong name.This irreplaceable name. I said, Ocher, I have a very important question.Very important.I want to ask you. He asked me very gently: What?Small dye. I burst into tears.I asked ocher: Do you have white cotton?