They are all fish. Small, light blue, bright, with colorful spots, and a beautiful tail like a big skirt. When I bought them, I made up my mind. Because those with foreign ancestry are very expensive. But I can't resist their dark and aura eyes, and I can't resist this quiet and calm blue. So I bought him and her. At that time, no one would have guessed how vicious this fish was, which was not much bigger than a nail. Or only he is, and she is not.
Their two light blue fish were bought home with two other yellow fish of the same species, and a tropical fish with black and white patterns was attached. At that time, the big fish had just lost his wife and stayed alone in the fish tank, which was a little sad.
But I am too busy to buy live fish worms to feed them. Dried fish worms are their regular breakfast, lunch and dinner. He can't stand blue, swimming back and forth, complaining. In fact, dried fish and worms can fill their stomachs, which is the truth of tropical fish. He can't. He is a nobleman and disdains such inferior hard food.
At this time, he still loves her who is equally beautiful in blue. She is slender, with silver patterns on her body and a dark white circle on her head, like a halo, which is her angel. Her tail is also very beautiful, fan-shaped, like a layer of blue silk night dance skirt. No wonder when I bought it, the seller praised the fish as beautiful and special, saying that I had a good eye. She is his bride, a timid little bride. She always swims with him and hides behind him silently.
A few days after he bought it, he killed the tropical fish, the simple and honest guy who was still immersed in the pain of losing his wife. He invited two yellow croaker and his bride to taste it. Although the yellow croaker and she also hate dried fish worms, they still refuse to eat them. After all, they are all fish. How can a silent big fish offend them? He intends to eat a little every day and enjoy it slowly. But when I found the big fish dead, the intact body made it impossible for me to guess the cause of his death. The big fish was washed into the toilet in grievance. The yellow croaker suddenly became afraid.
A few days later, he began to attack the yellow fish. He's chasing them. He is very provocative. She is undoubtedly his assistant, but she can't stand it. He killed the husband of the yellow croaker first. At that time, the wife of the yellow croaker tried her best to die together, but her husband was ruthlessly killed by the same kind of him. Blue, she hid aside, not to think about the pain of the death of Huang croaker's wife. Yellow croaker husband still can't make me doubt anything. He died in vain again and rushed into the toilet. At that time, the wives of the blue pair of yellow croaker were very good, and left a lot of dried fish worms to eat, so that the yellow croaker could eat enough. In fact, she clearly knows that there is not much time left for this yellow croaker.
She was very calm when he killed another yellow fish. She always thought that yellow croaker should live and die together. Now they're all dead. We can be together. She felt that the sacrifice might not be painful. Now, it's just him and her
Although she saw through everything, she still didn't believe that he would have the heart to eat her. He can't stand it either. So he thought, it's best not to see her. A huge fish tank. He lives with her on both sides. They hid from each other and chewed dried fish worms. But he couldn't help but see the fresh life. She is still beautiful in his eyes. But as a good meal, it is a kind of beauty. He still loves her, but the love like food has overshadowed the love that once shared joys and sorrows and never gave up.
She knew that her confidence was wrong and she was going to die. She broke her heart for a moment, but in fact she always longed for love. But now, maybe she will leave with regret.
She died. She died a terrible death. This time I found him eating her. Because she is too young, it is obvious that a small part of her body is missing; Because she is so beautiful, she looks so incomplete after losing part of her body; Because he was so cruel, he ate her eyes, her body was missing half, and she didn't have a blue dance skirt. But she didn't seem to struggle. She followed him. I was angry and thought he was a militant and the fiercest animal. But I didn't punish him. Maybe leaving him alone is a punishment. Only this time, I didn't flush her favorite into the toilet. I buried her and prayed that she would not be a fish in her next life and never meet him again. But this actually goes against her will.
Perhaps, all along, her wish is to have a relationship with him in the next life. Her death is also playing a role. He ate dried fish and worms for a few days, but he thought about her all the time, gentle and obedient. He suspected that he had eaten her, and his heart ached at the thought of her. Only then did he realize that her value as his bride far exceeded the value of cooking a dinner, and he began to regret it.
In the dark world at night, he tossed and turned and went to another world. ...
He finally died. One day I found that the fish tank was empty and he was gone. I looked everywhere and found him dead peacefully outside the fish tank. This is suicide. He must have made great efforts to jump out. After raising him for so long, he never jumped out of the fish tank. He misses her very much. He has been busy with the war and has been fierce. But at the moment, he is very peaceful and has no gunpowder smell. He is also a simple fish, weak and beautiful.
I was moved by his sincerity. I once believed in him and believed that he would give her a good feeling in the next life. So I buried them together. I hope I'm not mistaken. I hope that beautiful woman can get that feeling called caring for each other.
This is really classic.
There is also the peach blossom robbery, which I think is classic!
one
Peach blossom fell into my eyes. One, two, many. It is pink, scarlet and red. But I still can't be as proud as a rabbit.
two
I play Tori Amos music regularly before going to bed every day.
The time is about eleven o'clock five. I just brushed my teeth and spread my hair in front of the mirror. Turn off the lights. She must be ill and has been convulsing. I am satisfied with her pain.
I regard her as a girl. Girls, not women. She is wearing her favorite beautiful skirt and a new warm hat. She just became famous. Be recognized by some decent people. She sat next to the piano, cheers and the sound of the piano intertwined. She smiled comfortably. She has just taken many photos. She likes her new dress. Run like a deer. She is wearing a bright apple green sweater with lemon eyebrows. Like all pictorial, she is a best-selling girl.
She likes this crazy happiness. She sat next to the piano and walked towards everyone like a fast car. Everyone said: we like you.
She is in the street now. She has a long way to go from one place to another Catch a road on a clear night. Thinking about her happiness, she hummed the songs from her new record.
How did she know that there was a desire rising in the gutter in the dirty corner of the man behind her! How would she know? She is in front, and happiness is in front. She looked at it and saw nothing else.
The man rushed in front of her. Happiness is covered by the whole. She saw the man's brilliant desire in front of her. She can't see anything else
I can't remember which year this is the story of Tori Amos. If I remember correctly, this year should be her unlucky year.
My favorite is her record "Bailey Boys". The album cover is the two most terrible pictures I have ever seen. She reclined on a wooden chair, wearing an old gray suspender top, a complete leg sticking out of a skirt wrapped in blue coarse cloth, and a shotgun across her. Her hand holds the gun with infinite love, like holding a cheerful guitar. It is muddy and cold from knee to ankle. At the foot is a curled-up python. Her hair is as brown and red as the handle of a gun, and her smile is peaceful.
She laughed or whispered a violent story. She is very satisfied.
In another photo, she is sitting by a window, washing her lazy face with warm light. Her bronze dress was open and her breasts were half exposed. She is nursing a little pig. Pink pig closes his eyes and puts his mouth on his chest. Her face is full of maternal love.
But it is a pig after all. So how shocking this painting is. She spoke softly to the pig, and they fell in love proudly in the morning light.
Tori Amos, on the street where men's desires are stagnant. She saw that on this deserted night, desire suddenly came to her mind like a pedestrian during the day. But they don't love her. Destroy her.
The man stood in front of her and stressed that I am your admirer and I like your songs.
Hey hey.
Her noble music was loved by him as an illegitimate child. Then she, now her body.
The man said and walked towards her.
Black body and black night hung over the newly-grown girl.
I can't remember the year when Tori Amos was raped by her fans in a black street. Being black, he stressed: I like you.
I love this woman who feeds suckling pigs. Because her calm surface hides great fear. I even guess that her understanding of sex is distorted and full of fear. She started bullying people. She likes to appear chaste. She tried every means to keep herself clean. She tried to clean herself with animals and music, with nature and everything except men.
I have the same wish as this woman. The desire for cleanliness. So I love her.
Besides, she looks like a friend of mine. More and more.
three
I am a virgin.
I emphasize this point not to flaunt purity, nor to regret my ignorance. I just often think of this sentence. Sometimes one more sentence: I'm still a virgin.
I know the process from "yes" to "no" is very painful. This is inevitable. But no girl will be as painful as I am at the thought of "I am a virgin". It hurts even more if I think of that word sometimes.
I finally understand that what I am afraid of is sex, not Tori Amos. I subconsciously hope that this woman I am afraid of is in the same boat with me.
I imagined her running in the street, drowning in desire. I think her butterfly-like lips finally stopped screaming. Her hair gorgeously covered her shameful face. She hopes this is a new beginning. She is a new land, and nothing has happened in this land.
I have always lived in a big city. I often see sex. See and hear. But I don't want to talk about it, let alone be polluted.
I accept cigarettes as well as wine. The only thing I resist is sex.
Watch TV at night. I saw a dazzling white bed.
I see Tony Leung Ka Fai's shoulders and back.
I see the bright eyes of girls and cats at night.
Duras's Lover is like Donnie Yen's The Bell.
I felt very painful in the middle, so I got up and ran away.
I watched it with Guoguo. We often snuggle together and watch DVDs. We put our hands together and made some insignificant comments from time to time.
This time I told her in disgust: this girl is really slutty.
She looked at my long, messy hair, which was burning violently.
She said what's wrong with you? You are not normal.
I sneer. Ha ha.
She told me what happened to you.
I have been sneering. Hehe hehe.
She said you were ill again.
I said, Guoguo, I just found out that you are just like this girl.
She paused, and she understood. She has understood. She went on to say, why don't you forgive me after all this time?
What is forgiveness? Is forgiveness the chocolate we often share or the bouquet of flowers I will hold at your wedding?
She began to apologize. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's my fault. But I got nothing.
I said what you want. What do you like best is not to make yourself completely bad? !
The fruit began to cry. But this time, the only time, I didn't cry with her. Not even comforting. I turn off the TV. The bed in the darkroom, the girl's elastic body and the man's back shadow all disappeared on TV.
Guoguo said, Xiao Ran, can we still be friends? It's too difficult. I can't take it anymore. Long time no see, isn't it? You've been bothering me.
Guoguo, it's not that I won't let you go, but I want you to go, let you go. Let you leave in the direction of the current with the decay time. Let's leave now. Be quiet. Prove yourself as white as snow and melt like snow before my eyes.
She walked out of my door. This time, I can't predict the next time she walks in. She knows I'll never make friends again. I've been living in the oxygen she exhaled. Although it may not be new, it is enough to rely on.
She is like a rainbow, hanging high in my heart and shining. Sometimes the mark is too deep, more like a wound. Bleeding with colorful blood, deceiving me with confused colors made me forget the pain for a while.
four
I have a lover named ochre now. I have a lover, but I'm not sure I love him.
I am really a confused person, and my fear of sex has shifted to falling in love.
I can't fall in love with my lover.
My lover is a child. He is a little younger than me. I still like fisherman's hats and baby-faced popsicles. He still likes painting and writing poems. He still thinks the world is bright. Worst of all, he always thought I was a child. A child as clean as his poem.
He is a polite boy. I have no bad record of making me cry, and I never fight. Quiet as an endangered koala.
Most importantly, he never mentioned sex. We just kissed and his eyelashes blinked. I want to kiss an angel.
This is precious to a sick child like me. He won't make me feel pain.
I like him, maybe just because he is a child. This ignorant child won't come to watch "Lover" with me, and won't tell me a dream of spring that still has aftertaste from yesterday to today.
We played the song Dear Tori Amos on the record player. The woman we all like. But boys won't know what I'm thinking.
He can't see that Tori Amos is running in the long street at night, and my heart is running. Her shoes were wet and tears washed away the smart girl's clothes. She is a woman. She grew up on the street. She no longer likes bright colors and men.
I run with my idol. I told her together that we should clean up.
He won't know this, dear. He thinks I always sit quietly beside him and listen to music.
But this is only a short silence. When he grew up, he knew that he would be dominated by peach-blossom dreams and his own desire to flood. Like my last boyfriend, he would implicitly say to me: sex must be beautiful.
It's terrible. We can't sit quietly together anymore.
Although I guess I love him, I will still say the same thing as my last boyfriend: get out.
So I live in a panic. His growth is a threat to me.
He is not my pet, but I will still treat him as a little girl. Before he grows up, I will cut off my love for him and abandon him.
Sorry, my love, my ochre. I don't think I can get married all my life, and of course I won't have children. I will grow old while keeping my pure faith. As I get older, my illness will suddenly appear. I will become strange and unsociable. When I am very old, I will move back to my parents' house for fear of loneliness. They will look at me with strange and sad eyes. They took me in, but they didn't like me as much as I did when I was a child.
I will grow old soon.
I am still a virgin.
I am still a virgin.
I have always been a virgin.
This is my future. I can't even get my friend's fruit back. We fell out. This is inevitable. Our quarrel has its cause and effect, our quarrel is justified, and our quarrel ends with her colorful rainbow evaporating in my heart. Since then, it has been raining nonstop, the sky will never clear up, and there is nowhere to hang the rainbow after the rain.
The Bible says that true love means that you still love no matter whether this person hurts you or not.
But there is no way to define love in the Bible. I admit that I still love Guoguo, but this does not prevent me from loving her while hurting her. Act as mean as she used to be.
five
I once had ignorant and pure sexual fantasies.
Guoguo and I have a brilliant peach blossom agreement. We'll have our first time on the same day and at the same time.
There will be less pain together.
We met at the age of twelve and have been friends for six years. We are twins. Same corolla, same leaf stem. Of course, we must change and grow together.
We are in different rooms, clean beds, and all have loving boys.
We want rose petals in full bloom, glass lamps, soft music and pink lace pajamas.
In addition, we want small pieces of white cotton cloth. We stubbornly and even conservatively want to keep blood. They will soon be attached to the white cotton cloth, and they will gently sing about our transformation, which can also be regarded as a compliment. They soon have their own posture on cotton cloth-the posture of flowers that will not change.
Those burning love peaches.
The only boy I have sexual fantasies is not ochre.
He and I have always been polite classmates. All along, we get along well and appreciate each other. But I don't think we are far apart. One more step and we'll be together. He is the only man I want to marry.
His teeth and hair can be used for advertising, and his face is as red as my favorite face when I was a child, always inserted in the pen container.
I pointed him out to Guoguo.
Guoguo said that he was not well. I said if you want to accept him, because I want to marry him, the person you love most.
The ego, wearing a spotless white school uniform skirt, stood not far from him, making exaggerated gestures and shouting his name. I can see him clearly. I even saw his thick hair grow like his passion in the sun.
Has this ever happened? I always thought so.
six
Ochre and I will go to the suburbs. We pick fresh ears of wheat. Ready to go back and dye them all kinds of colors. They will look better than flowers.
Ochre is wearing jeans and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.
This is my gift, and this is my lover.
I watched him absently picking wheat in the distance. Maybe he is close to me, I'm not sure, I can't see clearly, but I feel that his thick hair is growing wildly in the sun. Beautiful hair, shining like a lamp. Is ochre a lamp? He is very enthusiastic, isn't he? I want to call out his name.
But I'm afraid I'll call another name.
seven
This is Guoguo, my dearest child, who looks like Tori Amos.
Just like Tori Amos, she is a charming woman full of temptations.
She is six months younger than me. She is my most precious sister.
She drinks and smokes more than I do. Her smile is more vicissitudes than mine. She matured rapidly. She's beautiful.
She is a charming rainbow. More tortuous than a rainbow.
Gogo, I don't know where you are going. Are you going to keep stretching like this?
My serious illness began on her eighteenth birthday. Her 18 birthday is very different. As usual, I traveled all over the city to buy the most beautiful cards. Buy sunflowers as big as your face. I kissed her as usual, and then kissed her. I said, congratulations, Guoguo, congratulations on your growing up.
Guoguo looked at me and cried.
I'm surprised. I wiped her tears and said, did it make you so uncomfortable growing up?
She said, Xiao Ran, look, I'm eighteen. I have grown up. So I have something to confess to you today. I have done something wrong.
The expression is not exaggerated. But I know it must be serious.
She said she was sorry.
I said, go ahead, you are my sister, no matter what you do wrong, I will always love you.
She smiled to show her gratitude. The smile is as cold as the Siberian cold wind that arrived in the city yesterday evening.
I had sex with someone. This is what she said. After a while, I began to cry again.
It's worse than I thought. I don't know if I'm sorry, surprised or angry. I think this is my baby's sister. We have a brilliant agreement like a peach blossom.
Peach blossoms can be torn, but the agreement cannot be broken.
Peach blossoms fall into eyes. One, two, many.
I finally asked: When?
Two years ago. She said.
Two years, a long time. I should find that she has grown rapidly in the past two years. And I am still a child who is not sensible. But I suddenly looked at her with great distress. I asked softly: Does it hurt?
It hurts. She said. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts more than you think. She said.
I had a seizure. I asked, so, who is it?
She finally got stuck. I heard her body ringing like a machine.
I think her body is trying to crush and destroy the name.
This name will be a hard weapon.
She said the name of the boy I love. I have read it many times and read two extremely euphemistic and beautiful words.
The name is hard weapon. It cut off the rainbow and tore up all the peach blossoms.
I said, not bad, you are my sister, and you can replace me in all aspects.
She shook her head. She said, sister, I was wrong. You said he was fine, so I wanted to get close to him and see if he was really like you. I am curious. I mean no harm. But I got what I deserved. I am in pain. It hurts. Like a conspiracy. He took me to a shabby hotel and even bought me an emergency contraceptive.
Fruit cherry transparent lips kept moving, she went on to say:
Also, also, there is no clean white cotton cloth, no. There's nothing. No respect. Only pain and dirty sheets. He makes me sick. You know how I wish I had white cotton cloth, which can make me forget the pain and make me feel worthwhile. That will calm me down.
I cried at the same time. That's how my prince was pulled off the white horse. He is no longer brave.
There is no white cotton cloth, so there is a twisted flower of love.
Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain.
It was from that moment on that I began to be afraid of sex.
I should feel sorry for my sister. I want to pour all my hatred into the boy whose teeth and hair are healthy and everything is fine. But I can't
I divide my love equally between boys and fruits. So my hatred will be divided equally.
At that moment, I hugged Guoguo. But the rainbow turned into rain and nothingness.
Guoguo, I still love you. But even the Bible doesn't define the way I love you. I love you but I hurt you.
Guoguo and I often quarrel. Until we finished watching Lover, we were doomed to part.
eight
I met ochre on a trip. It was the winter when I was eighteen. This is my first time to travel alone.
My mother took me to the airport. We met ochre. Ochre and I are in the same high school. They are my school sisters. We only vaguely know each other's names. My mother entrusted me to him to take care of me who knew nothing.
In the evening, we started chatting in the airport lounge.
I said I was older than you and didn't need your care.
He smiled and nodded. He doesn't believe me. Indeed, I seem to need care. I always have been.
From southern cities to northern cities. It began to snow. When we said goodbye, he owed me a tape of his speech. That's it. He came to send me tapes, and then again and again, we always promised to bring something to each other next time, and we always owed each other something. Never paid it off.
After ochre came into my life, I knew I might be saved temporarily. But I'm trapped in the darkness and Tori Amos and my sexual fear. He is still a child. When he discovers my illness, he will leave me. Or I found that he had grown up first, and I flew into a rage. I left him.
But he is different from all my boyfriends. He is a white boy. When I am with him, I can often hear the sound of angels flapping their wings around him. Sasha's.
He often goes to a western restaurant with large French windows and lawns. Later, I learned that it was because there was his favorite reading club. There is a big window with all kinds of rare English books in it. He is a member. They exchanged books.
His house has a semi-circular balcony, and he nails colorful buttons on the curtains.
He believes in Christ, but he is not a fatalist. He always said, I just hope my efforts can be seen by God.
There are always tickets for exhibitions and plays sent by his good friends in his mailbox.
He never quarrels with others. He is always unfamiliar with people he doesn't like. He went to see Guoguo alone. I just want to ask Guoguo if I will resist carrots when I drink Italian vegetable soup; Will I resist onions when I eat pizza? And all kinds of things I like to eat. He remembers it all.
He came back late from a trip with me. He will call my mother when he gets home. He apologized. Sorry, auntie, it's my fault that Xiao Ran came home late. Don't blame her. He even made his mother and my mother friends. They can talk to me for a long time and be in high spirits.
We are very suitable. If time goes back to eighteen, I am still a healthy child.
nine
Finally, one summer afternoon after ochre graduated from high school, my ochre grew up.
We sat face to face. He said, Xiao Ran, look, I graduated. I think I have the ability to promise to marry you in the future.
My face changed color at once. I'm afraid he will continue. Speaking of what I'm afraid to hear. This is my favorite ochre. I can't tell him to fuck off.
Ochre, you don't know I can't hear anything. In my heart, Tori Amos started running again. She was overtaken by black people. Her road to happiness is blocked. She cried. She sings.
Ochre, Guoguo is my beloved sister. There are more photos of her in my photo album than mine. She went to a dark place with the boys. As black as Tori Amos's street. The boy, the boy I love, smiled cunningly. Just like that black man's smile, he has dirty desires in the sewer. They are together.
Ochre, please stop talking.
I finally spoke to stop what was about to happen, okay, okay. I see.
He said, Xiao Ran, I have been waiting for this day for a long time. I think I should tell you something.
This is the familiar speech mode. Like fruit. At her bar mitzvah, after accepting my gift and blessing, she told me what happened with the boy I loved when she was sixteen. No white cotton cloth and respectful love.
I started crying again. I've said enough. Don't say that. I have no strength to hate another person.
Ochre showed the most painful expression since I met him. It's great that he never suffers. Why do you want to grow up? He said, Xiao Ran, I know you and fruit like the back of my hand. Guoguo told me. I always pretend I don't know, but I'm not the kind of child you think I don't know anything. I really fell in love with you, just like the vows of marriage, regardless of illness. I have to marry you.
What do you know, except hurting me! I yelled.
I will never hurt you, and we will never do anything you don't like. But I still want to marry you. We listened quietly to Tori Amos. Her injury has nothing to do with you. You know, you know, Tory is married, too. She wore a snow-white wedding dress and smiled so innocently. She is very happy now. You can too, but you must keep me in your life. I can lift it.
I will always respect you. He finally said.
I stared at him with swollen eyes. He is a fool. Spend your whole life saving such a patient. I said, forget it, ochre, that's not fair to you.
It is fair to me that you love me, and it is fair to me that you let me live in your life. He said. He came up to me and kissed me.
I like ochre. I want to give him justice.
I cried in the fierce summer sun with my eyes open. I looked at the boy. I can see him clearly. Including his hair, growing wildly in the sun. And the pink under his eyes.
Pink is so bright that it can bloom peach blossoms.
Peach blossoms fell in my eyes, one piece and two pieces.
I asked God, do I have a chance to plant peach blossoms again?
God and all those who love me are standing behind the ochre. They said, be proud, my dear child.
Finally stopped. A woman running on a black street. From girl to woman. She stood on the other side of the street in a white silk dress. On the other side of another street. She said that she had recovered. She asked again: What about you? How are you?
Me? I finally called his name. Ochre, ochre, ochre. I won't call your name wrong this time. This irreplaceable name.
I said, ochre, I have a very important question. Very important. Let me ask you something.
He asked me very gently: What? A little dye.
I was in tears. I asked ochre:
You have white cotton cloth, don't you?