Chapter 10 Topic: Is that you?

Ai. The day you were sixteen, groping down the dark stairs of the old house.At what level will the wooden floor suddenly become a weak spot, and when stepped on, it will be slightly sunken, which is neither light nor heavy.You used to be short, now you grow up, and the old wooden boards make a clearer sound.I imagine your eyes as feline lights in the dark.There are impressive tall buildings outside, and the sky is barely plastered on the edge. An innocent and cheerful face.She has a pretty face.From the side, the shoulders seem to gather into a pure and moving arc.Eh.I'm not trying to narrate this admiringly for you.

But you appear in front of me day by day, and unless I sleep forever, I cannot escape.Besides, I don't want to avoid it.You grow segment by segment in front of me, a flowering plant recorded in the encyclopedia.Stems, leaves, and no fruit yet.I sometimes just pop certain sentences in my head and they say "those quiet and beautiful things in life", is that you? You must be bewildered.sixteen years old.For me it is already an ear of wheat lost in the harvest.I can only miss it and never find it again.However, when you were sixteen years old, you still fell asleep unconsciously, spent a lot of time watching TV, turned over in bed, and didn't bother to move after a long time.There's a novel or two tucked under your pillow, and you're always complaining that the main character in it gets happiness too easily.

Sometimes happiness can give people a long and quiet time.It is like a nameless passerby, passing us with a side face, and no one notices it.You are chatting excitedly with your friends about the handsome jaw of a male singer.The wisteria in early summer is brilliant, and its fragrance falls heavily.I didn't meet anyone fatal, and I didn't become fatal to others.You are just a small opening through which a white light shines.The world is too gorgeous behind the wall, and inside the wall is the emerald green monstera. It's you. I can recognize you at a glance from far, far away.She smiles deliberately and cheerfully in front of people, thinking that this is Akana Lixiang, but she always makes a little clown when she doesn't care, like dripping melted ice cream on the hem of her skirt.You were gifted with soy sauce stains on your jeans, toothpaste marks on your school uniform, and this new dress.These flaws are like fluorescent colors, making it easy for me to come to you at night.The breath is sweet and soft, like a fallen leaf that has landed on a river.Downstream.Downstream.How long it was to go down the river.

When I was sixteen, I heard happy songs and longed for a mature and forbearing face.How to write the word forbearance.Your mind wanders recklessly in class.The rainy season that covers the city has spawned countless fungal organisms in the dark, and they grow in unknown corners.And you look tired at the moment, some emotions are smaller than fungi, they crawl through a certain place like rapidly diseased cells. In the fifth rib, 34 degrees to the left, on the edge of the heart, press down with your fingers.acid.and hurt. --right here.All the doubts that cannot be explained, all the fabrications of missing wings, and all the loneliness of translucent colors, all land in it.And thus the thinnest and thinnest ignorance draws them to your body.That year, you were sixteen years old.

Sometimes the stupidity of adults is almost a kind of naivety. They are still trying to limit every sixteen-year-old you with "rebellious period" and "adolescence", thinking that the flower season and rainy season are all the world you have.What are you talking about.Although I don't know, I don't know all about you, what kind of traces will be left behind in the soul wrapped in a heavy cocoon.But I think you are real, you pretend to lick those distant pains, it is also true, you pretend to guess other people's sorrows and joys, it is also true.You will really be very confused at a certain time, and you will hear the mournful cry of a hundred miles of flowers withering in your heart in a trance.It's all true.

The sultry heat of the night penetrates into the skin. It's you.I was sixteen years old that year.I always thought there were wild cats jumping on the roof at night.Its footsteps are silent.Waking up with tangled hair during the day.It's like trying to trap the dream, but it slipped away in the end.There is nothing in the dream.It doesn't tell you anything right.It doesn't say anything.What about after waking up?Time stands so still here that it can't even get down the dark stairs of an old house as skilfully as you can.You leave the time behind, go down the stairs, twenty steps, the boards on the eighteenth step down are rotten, remember, be careful.

You can’t see the wolf on the moonlit night, Peter Pan’s never-land is not on the map, you can’t buy the BLACK STONE smoked by Osaki Nana in the comics, and the Sakura Fubuki street that Yuno Uzuki rode by is only behind the camera .They all disappear in reality.You cross the same road every day and every day, instead of the thousand-year-old ice sheet and startling birds, what you see in front of you is only hangers hanging with clothes hanging in the air, and Lu Xue’s love sign, and the bus has a different roof. Numbers, their trajectories intertwine with complicated scratches in the city.You are just in front of a small dot above, and when you are alone, your expression is as indifferent as in a novel.

You can't write a complete poem with your mediocrity, and you can only write paragraphs of scribbled sentences without a center and no coherence.Many ideas arise in an instant, and then are shattered in a hurry.You're like that cat that hasn't grown up yet, trying to jump to higher places, and always falling back to the ground because of weak paws.The ground is soft grass.Soft grass spread all around. The green is layered. Such a life.Both parents are ordinary workers.The day went smoothly and well.There are two cousins, one older sister and one younger brother, who always fought and fought together when they were young. Now that they have grown up with you, the relationship is a little strange.I am studying in a key middle school in the district.The so-called no shop behind the village.The teachers are also impatient.Just urge to solve the problem quickly.Solve the problem quickly.You see, the sycamore leaves outside the window have turned yellow for another season.

You grow impulsively in this city, this region, and this old house, but on the surface it seems so calm. every night.You go downstairs to buy two bottles of beer for your father, and the small shop downstairs is a neighbor you know well.It was always the busiest time in the alley at that time, and the off-duty people shuttled through with their bicycle bells, and the freshly bought vegetables were hung on their bridles.From some of the open windows came the obnoxious sound of advertising.The voices gathered on the ground, deliberately flowing forward for a while, and finally stopped.So every step I stepped on felt tired.

He changed out of his school uniform and skirt, and was wearing cotton pajamas made by his mother. There was water on the bottom of the slippers, which creaked softly.Beer in hand.There was a time when beer bottles often caused explosions, and with some prudent fear in your heart, you put them far away from your side. Will it explode? If it explodes, I won't die.It should be a hand injury, or neck, shoulder and right chest.Are you wearing a strap?I spent the rest of the time lying in the hospital, too desperate to cry.That is not a miserable life. Fortunately, every bottle of beer may carry your father's protective spell, and you survived the sixteenth year of life unharmed.When walking up the stairs, the beer in the bottle gently slapped the wall like a shrinking sea.Darkness ran through the twenty steps from beginning to end.After walking for sixteen years, you can imagine yourself groping up and down with ease as if you were closing your eyes.

Sixteen years old in the dark.Wait until nightfall.go online.Exchange familiar topics with strangers.nothing to do.Imagine a bouquet of epiphyllum blooming out of thin air.nothing to do.Cotton clothes breathe well.is it going to rain tomorrow.The moon is stained with red sides. I walk up to you and touch your face like air.Innocent and charming.Shoulders spread out in front of the window.But the spine wants to pull out the arrogant and fast branches, like a plant that has been enchanted, eagerly looking forward to the unknowable beauty.However, you can't detect all of this. At the age of sixteen, what you want and want is only a vague outline, and you can only rely on your natural sensitivity to smell the hallucinations that are about to move.A lot of words are produced densely, but it is too late to be sent out.Those pale, paused, moderate, independent causes. The affairs of the world are like the tip of a needle passing by quickly, winding into a white and tough callus, wrapping your underage body. So the sad legend can't get close to you, the strange stars are only out of sight, and even the tumbling clouds before the rain are getting farther and farther away from you.You soak yourself into a stretch of tea in normal days, but you are unaware of the vast sea water outside the callus. Ai. I witnessed you every day when you were sixteen years old, quiet and beautiful, with slow-moving songs in the background, humming endlessly.The soul wrapped in a flexible callus closed its eyes and went up and down the dark corridor.But on the day when you were sixteen, on the eighteenth step, you discovered that youth is a real snake, and you suddenly took a bite, and the hard cocoon broke through and scattered light spots.From then on, it was like a strand of hair was blown into the chest cavity, and every breath could tear out the pain. It's still you after all.There is irrepressible imagination in the smile.Know where there are sunflower fields.All life is painted with the sharp light of youth.toxic free and safe.How can it be non-toxic and harmless? We all do.When did it suddenly become sharp and thorny all over, and the broken scabs and cocoons were dyed with other-worldly colors. Since then, the magnificence has subverted the ordinary dawn, and the part that is called festering suddenly blooms amazing flowers.Those who are sixteen or fifteen years old, those who are all looking for the ferry to the other side. It's all you.