Wouldn't you freak out if I told you that even though I'm a girl, my mascot is a knife?Oh, I have seen surprise and disquiet in your eyes.Yeah, a girl's mascot is supposed to be around her neck, a string of pearls, a jade pendant, a cross, or a little picture of a little man... but I'm not.My knife is hidden in a place where others can't see it. It is a real knife, cold and heavy, with an imperceptible wind sound when it is unsheathed, with a sour smell of metal, like a faint flower fragrance.In other words, I love knives like a nympho loves flowers.In fact, in my stories, there are always flowers in many cases, but when the flowers wither, the knife is still shining quietly in the flowers.The paulownia tree is old, the Nanhe River is dry, and the crockpot temple has collapsed, but I am still me, and the knife is still a fucking knife.

I got my first knife when I was twelve, and another knife when I was eighteen. Both knives were birthday presents. A twelve-year-old knife is a Turkish machete, and an eighteen-year-old knife is a German hunting knife.At least when Tao Tao gave me the hunting knife, he said it was genuine German. It was raining outside the window that day, and the raindrops were sticking to the window, and the raindrops were like the greasy tears in the movie.Tao Tao was tall and big, holding a knife in his palm-like hands. The knife was wrapped in red silk and satin layer after layer. Under the light of eighteen candles, it was like holding a pool of blood in his hands.I took that guy over, weighed it, and knew it was a good knife.The red silk satin was untied layer by layer, and the knife lay inside like a baby. It was tender and shiny, transparently bright, and dazzlingly bright. The arc was so elegant and soft, but it was indeed a good knife. .The knife even looks like a poor little pet, but it is actually a hunting knife that can be seen red.The blade is about a foot long, and has hair-thin grooves chiseled. Holding it in my hand is like holding a bunch of sunlight.There are circles of copper wires wrapped around the handle of the knife. The golden copper wires look so warm. Only my hand knows that it is actually so cold.Between the handle and the blade, there is a curved baffle, engraved on the baffle is the head of a wolf, white and sleeping with its eyes open.I kissed the wolf's head and cut the big cake into eighteen teeth with a knife.The knife is so fucking sharp, it slices through the cake like a puddle of clear water, the section of the cake is very smooth, as smooth as the face of a little beauty.

I dragged the knife with one hand, circled Taotao's neck with the other, and kissed his helix big "right".Tao Tao is very tall. In order to be kissed by me, he had to bend down. Is this what you call condescension?I said, thank you Tao Tao. Tao Tao smiled condescendingly, and when he laughed, the corners of his mouth twitched.He said, Fengzi, as long as you like Fengzi.Tao Tao is my classmate and the boy I like.I look at him, he looks at me, the two love each other, they are pleasing to each other, neither is a problem child.What is the problem?People with problems see people with no problems, don't they all become fucking problems?

Oh, how long has it been since that day?Thinking of it, the rain that day drenched my head, as if it hadn't dried yet. Yes, I would like to talk to you about my story and my two knives, but please don’t look at me like that, just like the host of Eastern Time and Space looks at a problem girl. Caring is also extremely distressed, asking the bottom line to find out something to enlighten young people.Don't do this, please, you really don't do this, huh? I mean, we can talk about whatever we want.It's like drinking tea in a tea house, or walking on the embankment of the Nanhe River. It's very casual and of course it's normal to talk.Oh, yes, talk, because I'm afraid of the word "heart-to-heart", and if anyone says they want to talk to me, I'm going to faint immediately.For a long time, I seldom opened my mouth to say anything.Excuse me, don't I use this word wrongly?Oh, wrong, then be wrong.Anyway, what I mean is that I haven't spoken for a long time, and my mouth is going to stink. It seems that I should talk to someone.It's like taking the lid off the sewer and opening it up.Who should I talk to, preferably someone like you, who has never met me before, doesn’t know my past and my future, and only knows that I am the bunch of things I said.There are honesty and lies in that pile of things. When there are more honesty than lies, it is like a bun with a small meat filling. Although it is not easy to eat, it can withstand hunger.But when lies cover up the honesty, it is like a cup of African black coffee poured with ice cream, after licking away the sweetness, the bitterness makes you panic.Don't laugh, I don't know anything about philosophy. Philosophy is not something people like me can talk about, and it's not something a girl should talk about, right?I just used an analogy to talk about myself in this way, maybe it shows that I am still normal.

Really, I repeat, I'm not a problem girl.Don't make it difficult for me with any questions, let alone accept any psychological tests, send questionnaires, fill out forms, such as how old I am, what blood type, which constellation I belong to, what specialties I have, crush on idols, whether I have lost my virginity, etc. Wait, that feels like a total idiot.Of course, I know we're an idiot's world right now, aren't we, full of idiot cameras, idiot planes, idiot stars, and idiot boys and girls.Even men and women who are in their forties call themselves "boys" and "girls", which is so annoying.The whole world is full of fools, but there is only one great guy among the fools, and that is Forrest Gump, also known as Forrest Gump.This is what our dear English teacher Song Xiaodou told us. She said it was Forest Gump, not Forrest Gump.She is also our homeroom teacher, and she often calls us idiots in both Chinese and English, but she can't produce a real Gump.She wrote a line of English on the blackboard casually, and I still remember those foreign words, because this is her dream for us, Forrest Gump, she said, is Gump, and Gump has become an alias for geniuses now.She said coldly, don't blame me for calling you idiots, I dreamed that there would be a Gump in the first class of the second year of high school.

Oh, but I really don't want to be Gump, or the better-known Forrest Gump.I also don't like running, playing ping pong, or fishing for shrimp.His unique skill is running, but it's useless for him to run so fast, the woman he loves died before him.Even if I am a fool, I also want to be a normal fool.A normal fool is a fool, so what does a genius have to do with it? Yes, I'm just a normal fool who goes to the most ordinary middle school and spends a long time doing nothing every day.Fortunately, I was lucky, and only two or three homework at the end of the semester required make-up exams.That is to say, I'm fairly well-behaved, I'm not stupid enough to play truant from school, carry my schoolbag on my back and wander around the streets and alleys of Sanmao.The Sanmao I'm talking about is a little beggar with only three hairs on her head, not the long-haired woman you like.I haven't read any of her books, and I'm too tired to read any written books.I used to only like comics, comic strips, and cartoons, and now even these things are put aside.There's nothing wrong with me in that regard, age speaks in an age-wise way, right?The year before last, I met a Northeast girl in Guizhou. She spoke a half-baked Guizhou dialect.This time she spoke the Northeast dialect, Zhao Benshan's weeping Northeast dialect. She said, what's the matter, what song to sing on which mountain!I laughed all of a sudden, laughing half to death, and I remembered Chairman Mao's words in the textbook, which is called singing on such a mountain.I just said, it's so fucking interesting, you are like Chairman Mao with a Northeast accent!She laughed, and in Guizhou dialect, what kind of Chairman Mao is I? I am a normal girl.

Oh, listen, we're all normal girls.But some guys just say I'm abnormal, just because, the thing I like is knives. Oh, and as I said at the beginning, my mascot is a knife.Just knives.But in a so-called normal world, girls are not worthy of liking knives, right?But I really have no choice.A fool like me grew up eating comic books.I'm most afraid that people will talk about piano boys, painting boys, Beethoven, Mozart, and Picasso. We don't deserve to mention them. They are all ruining saints.The first comic book I read was a collection of Arabian stories in which the warrior Memed stuck a knife in the back of his foot in order to prove his courage and honesty to others.The bare foot filled a whole page of pictures, and even the handle of the knife rushed out of the frame, and the blood bubbled up along the edge of the knife, bending the cold knife.I felt that the knife also pierced my blood vessels and burned my whole body.Since then, I have loved knives.

The warrior Maimed, also known as Maimed in the desert, rode a dromedary and wore a long white robe, robbed houses, killed the rich and helped the poor, he was obviously still a very young man, but his eyes were full of old feelings .If I could hear his voice, it must be old and hoarse.Maimed loves to say one thing, poor man!In the eyes of the warrior Memed, the poor and the rich, friends and enemies, are all pitiful people.I don't like this sentence at all, but unconsciously, I keep talking about it.I just thought, we are all really fucking poor people, but who is pitying whom? I grew up watching McMade's comic strips.If you add up these comic strips, you can fill several large leather suitcases.However, none of them can be found now.I am a person who has no fate with books, and I lose all the books I get.This can also explain why half of my textbooks are always missing at the end of the semester.That's right, I thought, if that's the case with Memed, let alone a textbook that doesn't make any sense.

When I was in elementary school, because I always had make-up exams at the end of the semester, my mother slapped me a lot.Later, my mother stopped beating me, because I was taller than my mother by a head, and I was in the second year of high school.That time my mother raised her hand towards me, and I grabbed her hand.I said, Mom, don't touch me.You don't touch me.I grabbed my mother's wrist hard, and I said, Mom, don't touch me!Tears flowed from my mother's eye sockets. She said, I didn't raise you in vain. Your hands are really strong...Since then, my mother has never touched me again.

Dad never hit me.He didn't lose his temper once, even when he saw half of the failing grades on my report card.The dad I know is the one who has no temper.The way he looked at me was always smiling and a little bit apologetic.Dad always gave me as much pocket money as possible, and I used more than half of it to buy McMed.Dad knows that I like deserts and Maimed. When I was tenth birthday, he wrapped me up in grass-green sheets. He wrapped me up so patiently and meticulously. I have never seen Dad do things so meticulously.The sheet wrapped my head, most of my face, neck, and body, and finally dragged on the wet ground covered with fallen leaves.Green bricks were plastered on the wetland, and moss was still growing.Dad took a few photos of me, and in one of them, my head was slightly buried, which made the eyes protruding from the bed sheet turn up a little, showing a rare indifference and gloom at that age.Oh, I'm not actually gloomy and aloof, at least, how warm and outgoing I look when I'm not dressed as Maimed.

When I got the photo, I thought foolishly, if someone asked me, whose child are you?I answered that I am Maimed's child!But no one has ever asked me that, alas, never... My answer rotted in my stomach. On my 12th birthday, my dad handed me a Turkish machete across the cake and 12 lit red candles.This is my first knife, the blade is distorted, like a sickle, also like an old man.I tried my hand, but couldn't try the edge.But my father told me that the edge of the machete is strength, and the machete plus strength can cut the neck of a horse.At that time, I still couldn't understand what my father said. Of course, there may be no words in those words. A machete is a machete.The handle of the scimitar is inlaid with precious stones, red, green and green. The scabbard is made of shark skin or whale skin. arts.Loved me so much, it was like it had been touched by Memed's white fingers.I hang my knife on the wall and can't get enough of it sooner or later.Once I brought the scimitar to school and showed it to my classmates. I said, my father is a major general and the military attache of the embassy in Turkey.When I said this, I didn't blush at all.In fact, as I said it, I was thinking, I'm fucking blown out of my head.What is my father, a major military officer!It's just the deputy chief of a military warehouse.The warehouse is far away in Yaya Valley on the southern line, and it is far away from the city where I live. It takes three days and two nights to ride a cross-country jeep.The photo of me imitating Maimed was taken in the barracks in Yaya Valley. The background is a warehouse like a hundred and eighty bunkers. Behind the warehouse are mountains and forests soaked by rain.I also showed this photo to my classmates, and I said that I took it when I was visiting relatives in Turkey.I said it was near the southern border of Turkey, where Memed was born.In fact, what does that knife have to do with McMed, it's just a gift from one of my father's old comrades-in-arms.This uncle has changed jobs a long time ago, and has been running frontier trade in Xinjiang-Kazakhstan for many years. I did brag, but I'm not ashamed of it.In school, in order to save face, which one of the students has not told such a lie? Let me tell you, the parents of our classmates are all famous, some are the director of the industrial and commercial bureau, some are the chief judges of the criminal court, and some are "" The owner of Pacific Department Store, the most stinky policeman with a gun certificate... But I am clear in my heart, it is all nonsense.In such matters it is a fool to tell the truth.Real fools have nothing to do with the genius Forrest Gump.If you are a little smarter, you will know that your father is a laid-off worker, and no one will donate to you for the Hope Project. I spent my eighteenth birthday at McDonald's.My birthday is April 11th, and April 11th is a pretty mediocre date, unless a guy who was born on the same month and day as me is famous all over the world, it will be a memorable occasion.I spent my birthday with my classmates at McDonald's.Dad didn’t come back, and he was still guarding the military warehouse in the Yaya Valley where the autumn leaves fell. The warehouses looked like bunkers, all cylindrical, with a pointed roof, just like some unsmiling farmers wearing straw hats.Mom didn't come back either, she went to border trade with Dad's old comrades in arms.It was the old comrade who gave me the scimitar. He is said to have given up now. He has 17 or 18 caravans under his command, which are painted gaudyly, carrying the old goods from the warehouse clearance. Frontier scurrying.I find it ridiculous that he asked Mom to be his partner.I asked my mother, you are already laid off, what are you going to do as a partner? Mom said, besides your father and his comrade-in-arms, I also work as his accountant, so I can count myself into the group... I felt uneasy for some reason, and I said, take yourself...to that uncle to join the gang, is there such a comrade-in-arms?Mom, is this appropriate? Mom was obviously upset, she didn't make any sense when she was upset, she said, is it appropriate?I don't know what's wrong with that! Alas, I just thought, poor mother, she is going through menopause, she told me that now she often suffers from insomnia, palpitation, tinnitus, and menstrual disorders.After my mother was laid off, my father gave my mother an old car, which is about the same as the three-wheeled bicycle.Once my mother was riding an elderly car across the street and was almost knocked down by a speeding car.My mother yelled at the driver for being blind. The driver was a young man who apologized and said he didn't see her.Mom sneered and said, didn't you see me?If you go back ten or twenty years, you might see me from afar!The crowd of onlookers burst into laughter, and my mother's witty words spread throughout the Eastern Suburb 108 Square overnight.The slightly older people nodded and sighed, and said, go back ten or twenty years, so it goes without saying!Only then did I know that ten or twenty years ago, my mother's beauty and style were considered unique in the gray eastern suburbs.Alas, why did I see her as a middle-aged woman when I was young?I just think her hanging eyes are weird, with long eyelashes and wet eyes, which are not suitable for her age.I only found out later, probably Eva told me that hanging eyes are Danfeng eyes.I am not Danfengyan, how could my eyes have such a nice name.My eyes are like my father's, very normal and normal, with two eye sockets and a pair of eyeballs, that's all. After the attempted car accident, my mother sold the elderly car to a junk collector on the same day, and used the money to play little mahjong for several days and nights.I knew that this gray eastern suburb, with its moldy and damp red brick buildings, could no longer hold her back.The mother's matter made me think about a lot of things, and then I told her, mother, let's go, let's go if you can. You should believe this, I don't owe anyone in this world, I still owe my mother, don't I, aside from the kindness of nurturing, I still owe her at least one life.So even if I can't let her go, I still have to let her alone, right?What's more, she has been laid off, she doesn't go to border trade, she can still ride an old car, with wet eyes, guarding the mahjong table, and spend the rest of her life after soaking?I let mom go.Dad said to take good care of my mother, but I had no choice but to let her go.I heard that Chairman Mao also said, is it true——it’s going to rain, my mother is going to remarry, let her go! I can't remember how long my mother has been there, anyway, it has been a long time. On the morning of my birthday, Dad called me.The military line turned to the local line, and the sound became very unclear. I could only hear the wind and rain in Yaya Valley, but my father's weak voice became the background of the wind and rain. Happy birthday to me repeatedly.My mother didn't move at all. I don't know which country in Central Asia she has gone to. Anyway, it's either this Stan or that Stan.Central Asia is full of stans, just like Yaya Valley is full of silent warehouses.However, I told myself, what does it matter, isn't it just a phone call, and I'm not that kind of sentimental girl. At McDonald's that night, I looked happy.McDonald's is always warm.On spring nights, with the rain falling on the street and the constant passing of splashing cars, McDonald's seemed even warmer.The waiters were all running around in thickly striped T-shirts, like greyhounds with their jaws clenched.Tao Tao called a large group of classmates, even I happened to be 18.I blow out a candle, and everyone blows out a candle for me.After the candle was extinguished, eighteen puffs of blue smoke wafted out, and the acrid smell irritated my eyes, and my eyes became wet with blinking.This has nothing to do with crying, who knows that there are so many candles, so many that they can cook an old cock. Before the 18 candles were extinguished, Tao Tao gave me the wrapped hunting knife. Tao Tao said that it is an authentic German product.I asked him where did he come from?He said it was done.I won't ask any more questions.Tao Tao has Tao Tao's way of doing things, I don't think this has anything to do with me.The important thing is that he gave me this knife, which is really a good knife. That night, we drank dozens of Cokes, ate dozens of chicken legs, and swallowed dozens of hamburgers.Ali paid the bill.Tao Tao is Ali's protector, and I am Tao Tao's girlfriend. It is only natural that Ali pays the bill.Poor Ali's surname is neither Ah nor Lee, because he wears all Lee's designer clothes, so he becomes Ali. But when we first started high school, we all called him Aleigh. Isn't Lee called Lei Pai?We all call him Aleigh, and he agrees.One day Song Xiaodou was in class and asked who is the student on duty today?We all said it was Ari.Song Xiaodou frowned, a small pimple appeared in the center of her brow.She wrote a Lee on the blackboard, she said, read what?We say, Ray!Song Xiaodou took a sip, as if it was the echo of thunder.Then she cursed something in English, I think it was probably a bunch of idiots.But when she translated it herself, it turned out to be a bunch of poor people.She also said poor, poor Song Xiaodou, I don't like her saying that. Song Xiaodou used chalk to circle Lee round and round, like a spider spinning silk to wrap Ah Lei in the middle.She said, Le-yi-li-Lee, read Lee.Where did the thunder come from?After watching too many Hong Kong and Taiwan movies, Lei Feng became Li Feng, and Li Kui became Lei Kui.My students, Li is Li, and Lei is Lei.Li Kui and Lei Feng are irrelevant, right? We looked at each other, ashamed that all of us poor people were her students. Song Xiaodou pinched the chalk with her fingers and tapped lightly on the blackboard. The blackboard actually made a very crisp sound, just like knocking on porcelain.We tried this trick later, but it didn't work.Song Xiaodou said, you know Lee Kuan Yew, the former Prime Minister of Singapore, his English name is, she turned her back, Lee Kuan Yew became a few chalk sounds, and then he emerged from the depths of the blackboard like a photo , is Lee Kuan Yew. The original meaning of Lee, Song Xiaodou said, is a shelter, a shelter from the wind.She paused, and wanted to say something more, but her expression was useless, so one corner of her mouth was bent obliquely, like a smirk.She said, this child, this child you call A Lei, God knows, is he protecting others or are others protecting him?She shook her head and muttered something in English, I guess it was ah, incredible, right? After shaking her head, Song Xiaodou said, you still call him, that's him. She stretched out her finger and pointed at A Lei, and she said, do you still call him A Lei?We all buzzed and said "ah-lee-" Ali?Song Xiaodou repeated the two sounds with her mouth and chalk.She said, what is Ah Li to you? Grab it!As Song Xiaodou said, he finally changed his smirk into a full-faced smile, neither sounding nor looking annoying.She said, let's call him Ali, a famous brand, it is profitable, isn't it?She pointed Ali again and said, Ali, you are more like a name, right? Everyone looked at Ali, and Ali blushed.There were applause and boos, and Ali was Ali from that day on. Ali paid for my 18th birthday.In order to express my gratitude, I gave Tao Tao a big kiss on the helix.Tao Tao is very tall, 1.80 meters tall, with Buddha-like ears, big and thick, hanging down to the bottom, and rolled inwards a bit.The old man said that big ears are blessed, and in this volume, not even a little bit of blessing will be lost.Tao Tao's hair was neither long nor short, just hanging on his collar, and his nose was so high that no expression could be seen on his face.Zhu Zhu said, Tao Tao pretended to be cool and fake.I just said, yes, yes, the coolness of big stars is also pretended.Pretending to be a bit fake, isn't it?Zhu Zhu said, bah! I kissed Ali on the earlobe too.Ali has a pair of protruding ears, which looks a bit like a rabbit. His eyes are red, his earlobes are pointed, and his lips are smooth and tender.His family is very rich, why did he study Paozhong?Many people have asked him, you can pay for a key middle school, No. 1 middle school or No. 24 middle school, and be a money student?Ali always smiled shyly, and only told me in private that I would not go to a key middle school, and my father would not let me go to a key middle school either.Dad said that going to a key middle school is being trampled on, and studying in a middle school is being beaten.Maybe it just fell out of shape.I said, what does it look like?Ali said, it's just a good look, a good look, a good look.I laughed too, and I said Ali, does your dad think you fell out?Ali said, what do you think, what do I look like? Ali looked timid, so I patted his poor little face, and I said, Ali will always make a good appearance, right? In fact, in the bubble, who is our good look?Who knows, if you know it, it can still be in the bubble?I have a lot less money than Ali, but I have two more knives.Two good knives.I left my machete on the wall and my German hunting knife under my pillow.Accompanied by two knives, I slept soundly, without dreaming or snoring, and slept soundly. Oh, yes, my surname is He, He Feng.But I don't like people calling me He Feng.I have always disliked being called He Feng by that.Only when I filled out various registration forms did I write myself as "He Feng".However, since I was in elementary school, I often deliberately wrote myself as "He Feng".In this way, I feel that I have become a little more masculine and less like a girl.I hate girls who scream when they see a caterpillar, and I hate girls who blush when a man looks at them.And, I really like the wind.The wind is an invisible thing, but it is so powerful. It blows all night and can clean up all the dirty things on the street.The city where I live is located in the hinterland of the southwest, close to the Tibetan plateau, at least the wind from the Tibetan plateau can blow to our city.Our city is not a clean city. In my eyes, those poor streets are really dirty, full of paper scraps, fruit peels, old people's phlegm, and wild feces pulled by migrant workers.It rains often in our city, and the rain in the southwest is soaked and warm, and it falls all night and all night.But how I like the coming of winter, the north wind blows all night and all night.Those little knife-like north winds are so powerful. They climbed across the Qinling Mountains, blew across four big rivers and five hundred miles of plains, and blew all the way into our city, blowing away all the dirty things.When I went out the next morning, the air was cold and swishing, blowing on my face, it was crisp and crisp, and when I looked around, everything was clean, and I really felt indescribably at ease. In the second semester of the second year of junior high school, I received my first love letter. My name was crookedly written as "He Feng".I felt sad all of a sudden.I hate boys with stinky handwriting, but I almost shed tears because of the two broken characters "He Feng". "He Feng" is my brother's name.He Feng was lost by his father when he was one or two years old.After the "August 1st" that year, Dad took He Feng to a gathering of old comrades in arms, and they all drank too much.Relying on the strength of alcohol, they uttered so many rhetoric and complained so much, they drank the sky dark.It was only when Dad got home that he found that He Feng was gone.Dad fell to the ground, and Mom's eyes went straight.I don't know how my father and mother got here during that long summer.I still remember that many years later, I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and suddenly saw my mother sitting in the dark of the kitchen, smoking and drinking, and the street lamps and cigarette butts reflected my mother's eyes into dark green and red.The wine was steeped with goji berries and poisonous snakes, and it smelled like Mongolian sweat medicine in the room.I timidly called my mother, and I said, Mom, are you missing Dad?Mom smiled with a hoarse voice, and her voice was hoarse from that night, as if it came out from the depths of a pile of foam.Mom said, what do you want him to do?I am thinking about my brother.When my mother mentioned the lost boy to me, she never mentioned He Feng or your brother, but only called him brother.I couldn't speak, I said to myself, poor mother, poor mother she is. After a long time, I found out that after my mother was pregnant with me, she separated from my father forever.I was born on April 11. The late spring of that year was hotter than the dog days. All the babies were not wrapped in swaddling clothes. It was so hot and humid that the fish in the tank got prickly heat.My mother said that the children in April of that year were extremely self-willed, and no one obeyed discipline. Mom was right.In the next period of the second year of junior high school, I also wrote several letters to boys.My name is always "He Feng".I tell people because I love knives and this is the edge of the blade.But I told myself in my heart that I was living against "He Feng". "He Feng" is gone, and I am the only one in this world.When the boys received the letter from "He Feng", they all chased after me.I like to see how they are ass ass.Are they boys too?Really funny. However, no one has ever called me "He Feng".My father and mother call me He Feng, the teacher also calls me He Feng, but my classmates all call me Fengzi, or maybe I am a lunatic, who knows?Anyway, it is not written in black and white.I accepted them all, and I answered whatever was called, and whatever was called was calling me, right? Even if people don't call me by my name, but just say "Hi" or "Hi" in my direction, I can't make a mistake, it must be calling me.My appearance is easy to recognize. Standing among a group of people, I must be the most eye-catching.When we were in the first year of high school, we did an essay "I and My Bubble", what a fucking tender topic.I wrote it like this: Please don't ask me what I look like.Every afternoon at seven o'clock, when you come to the gate of our Paulownia Middle School, you can recognize at a glance, oh, that poor guy is me.Take the No. 38 bus from Huangchengba Square, walk southward slowly, get off at Nanqiao, and turn left along the river. The river is Nanhe, with paulownia trees on both sides.The street is called paulownia tree, and the school is also called paulownia tree. The trees are higher than the courtyard wall, three or five stories taller. The leaves are fat and green and black. The gloomy street makes the leaves of the paulownia tree black. .The paulownia tree blooms in spring, and when it blooms, there are no leaves. The purple flowers cover the branches, pink and purple, so tender... When the flowers wither, then the world of leaves, green and black, Black to late autumn. Oh, when you get to the South Bridge, walk along the left for two minutes, and you will see a bronze sign nailed on the black wall, facing the street, the embankment and the South River.The bronze medal is more conspicuous than the school badge. It is shiny, good-looking, and proud, with four large red characters branded on it: "Municipal Qualified Middle School".That is to say, our poor Paulownia Middle School is not a "Key Middle School", not a "Demonstration Middle School", nor an "Advanced Unit of Garden-like Greening".... "Qualified middle school" is our only golden signboard.Oh, yes, Paulownia Middle School is indeed a qualified middle school. There are three junior high school grades and three high school grades, with a total of 1201 students in 32 classes.There are hidden dragons and crouching tigers among them, and every day at noon or dusk, they will engage in a few fights and robbery activities, either in stinky Internet cafes, at the corners of small streets, or God knows where else.Therefore, the police visited Paozhong like ghosts entering the village every three days.The principal and the director were eager to get wise, and came up with a trick to lock us up like chickens every day until dark.Yes, it's ridiculous to say that in our qualified middle school, the passage of time is measured by the color of the sky.Before dark, no teacher was willing to attend class, and no student was willing to do homework. The teacher on duty walked up and down the corridor with arms folded, watching us chaotically dawdling away from the open door.It finally got dark, just like the textbook said, when the night fell, two burly security guards opened the iron gate, and we swarmed out.At this time, you can recognize me at a glance. I was at the front, and I was a head taller than all the girls.I would always reach into the nape of my neck as I walked and pull the school uniform off my head.My baggy (loose?) school uniform was peeled off, revealing my tight leather jacket.I had my hair cut close to a man's size, and I wore landing boots, and I walked like General Patton.I know that there are many boys behind me looking at me, and there are birds in their eyes.They said, damn it, look at this fake eyebrows and eyes (fake appearance) general daughter! ... However, I still haven't been able to finish this composition. What I'm telling you now is just a general idea, meaning, anyway, that's what it means.Besides, I don't know what to write next. If it is a running account, I really don't know how long it will last. It is very scary to think about it.我就把陶陶的《我与我的泡中》全文照抄了一遍，遇“男”就改“女”，逢“他”就变性，居然得了78分。而陶陶本人却只得了64分，气得他拍桌子骂了句妈的×！分析起来，可能是陶陶的字迹混乱，而我的一笔一划都清清楚楚吧，清楚得就跟小刀子刻在木板上一样的。真的，我的字迹就跟小刀子刻的一样，力透纸背就是这个意思吧？当然，也不排除另外一个缘故，语文老师是个老头子，老单身，老瘪三，肯定看着女孩子更顺眼，看着陶陶牛高马大就莫名其妙不喜欢。我很少在背后说老师的坏话，我说的这些都是真实的。我造谣得不到任何好处，何况是现在。不过，他早已经退休了，在我们离开泡中之前就消失得无影无踪了，就跟死无对证似的。 *第二部分 还记得我说过的麦麦德吗？沙漠中的英雄麦麦德，白袍、弯刀、单峰骆驼。此外，他还是一个游吟的诗人和哲学家。他比燕子李三更光明正大，比罗宾汉更矫健有力，比我们的政治老师更能讲出伟大的格言。我晓得格言总是很伟大的，不然为什么还叫格言呢？他说过一句格言：经历对有些人是财富，对有些人只是一本流水帐。