Slag photographer

[About knowing what I know about you] Lonely Yanyue: A lonely and quiet girl, she will panic when she comes into contact with strangers! I met Yao Wang, the boy in the next class, because I like reading. Contact with Yao Wang made her seem to see her own kind. Sad Yao Wang: A person who is happy on the surface, but actually sad inside. He is a good student in everyone's eyes-a brave and strong man. In fact, only a pleasant countenance can understand his inner darkness! Happy and innocent children's painting: I have a happy family, so I am cheerful, I believe everything is beautiful, and I hope to infect my sad Yao Wang with my own beauty. But Yao Wang finally chose Yan Yue, a similar person. Can children's paintings become sad people? Zhong Cheng like a fool: I grew up with children's paintings and have been waiting for her silently. I hope one day Tong Huaneng will look back at him behind him, but he always waits in the dark. ...

Chapter 1

I mean the storyteller. Some things are engraved in his mind forever. Spread out all the valleys and valleys of the brain, like a huge piece of paper with dense plots and lines on it. There are many times, many places and many people who can let me tell this story. However, there are always inexplicable reasons that make me open my mouth like a dumb doll. Dolls are the loneliest people. Because children are accompanied when they are lonely. There is no one to accompany the doll when she is lonely. The storyteller is a lonely person. Because lonely people can listen to stories when they are lonely, and storytellers can only tell stories to themselves when they are lonely. Even if these stories have a hundred endings, they have been told to themselves a thousand times. When we have been living blindfolded years, we are as ignorant and unconscious as puppets. There is always a person holding a camera like a photographer, recording all the stories that happened frame by frame. The focus is sometimes clear and sometimes blurred. Finally, leave a scribbled signature in the lower right corner of each page, which reads: the age of weeds. This must have happened when everyone was still young or young. There is always a side face in the dream. With beautiful colors and gentle voice. Every road you walk, there is always a shadow, always staying there. You remember the height and width of your back and how many centimeters his/her feet were off the ground when he/she walked. Remember the color and size of his/her favorite shoes. He/she just walks in front of you. You follow him/her and forget your own direction. No panic. There is always a Kubinashi who sings over and over again day and night. Then sing that the sky is bright. Singing the long night. There is always a book on my backpack, and the story in the book is staged on me, with his/her photo in it. One night, we walked around the playground alone. Lonely Beidou is in the sky. It's the only constellation that we can easily recognize. The dim street lights stretched our shadows. Finally, I sat under the basketball stand in a daze. In the hot summer, the night wind blows, blowing our faces with sweat and tears. I'm mumbling these stories like a white-haired old man now. Standing outside the sunset door, watching the sunset burn down the city. These stories, even if you have heard them. Because you will live for a long time in the future, these stories are just embellishments in your young life. Maybe it will touch you on a quiet and lonely night. However, when you grow up, I will be the humorous storyteller in your mouth. You will have a more mature and wonderful life. You will live a long life. But there is a more desperate word that I choked up and didn't say, that is, you will die longer. So we all have to live the happiest life, because we all have to die for a long time. I used to sing and watch the grass cover the hillside. How many songs are left on the hillside covered with grass? If the light is dim now, if there is a sudden strong wind outside the window now, if there is no one around now. If you happen to feel a little lonely, then I can tell you a story.

chapter two

Chapter two Yan Yue is a lonely person. They say loneliness has a voice. But I can't hear you. Boarding school. Unfamiliar classmates, more unfamiliar formal playground. Instead, it makes me miss the cinder track in junior high school more. Every summer, the lush weeds along the runway will spread into a barren ocean. Many girls ran in, and then the white skirt was submerged in green. This is my memory. Three years of junior high school is like a sea dyed green. Time is cut into pieces and soaked in solution. Thus began high school life. An era of war and chaos. I always feel scared when strangers crowd together. It seems that we have known each other for three minutes, and then we can talk about some deep secrets. I really envy them. There is a book in my schoolbag. This is a fairy tale written by China people. It's called the death of a poisonous spider But it is the kind that is very disabled, lonely, lonely and dark. Not the beautiful prince and princess in Andersen's or Grimm's fairy tales. But the spider was eaten by his own children, or the whale was stabbed in the eye with a harpoon, and then it was pulled out with its eyes, or the insects in the forest were dancing, and only a small beetle was kept out of the door, and they didn't want it to go in. There is a passage in it that loneliness is like a knife without a sharp blade. The blunt edge of the neck comes with the years, giving off pain that is neither light nor heavy, neither urgent nor slow until we forget what pain is. Is it because of me? It's like I'm used to standing on an empty playground at dusk, and the wind in the distance is in my ear. What I smell is rusty parallel bars on the playground. Lush weeds seem to grow all over the world. It's like I'm used to waiting in line to buy tickets alone and watching a sad movie with popcorn alone. Laugh and cry at other people's stories. Until the movie curtain call lights up, all the faces that have just sunk into the darkness emerge with specific contours and facial features. I suddenly returned to my silent world. It's like when other girls are busy falling in love, I am used to reading in the library. The camphor trees outside the window are as deep as the sea. I don't know many people in this school. I remember there was a boy named Yao Wang in the next class. I remember his name, first of all, because his name is so beautiful. Second, because I saw him reading in the stands of the school playground that day, which is my favorite fairy tale series. I've been looking for another one that I haven't found for a long time. He looked at me that day, then looked down and fell on the book in my hand. Then he grinned. He said, well, your book is Death of a Poisonous Spider, and mine is Wild Goose Crossing to Stay in the North. It is a series. I smiled. Dare not speak. In fact, I have heard of him. The rumors in the grade are nothing more than some girls' topics such as "good looks", "high jump of the school track and field team" and "inexplicable good grades". That night, the sun slowly set behind him and me, and the playground was empty that day. It's just me and him in such a big stand. In fact, I really want to borrow the book "Wild Goose Crossing the North" from him, but I dare not speak. So I can only look at fairy tales that can be memorized almost over and over again. It's getting dark, and I can't read the words on the paper gradually. So I got up and left. My feet were a little numb when I stood up, like a puppet hanging from a string. Then I heard him say behind my back, hey, can you lend me the death of a poisonous spider? I can't get it … I'll exchange my copy with you! It's like a hundred limbs being reinjected into the blood. Or an empty body is full of keen fibers. The Death of a Poisonous Spider writes that when this spider is eaten by all the hatched spiders, its soul floats transparently on its body. The furry sunset evenly smeared the afterglow on its black abdomen. Life was born here. From then on, I like this description, "furry sunset". Like the night I met Yao Wang. Goose's spouse died, and he was very sad. He wants her body to fly across the sea and to the warm south. But it is too heavy for him to fly. So he decided to stay in the north that winter. So after the first heavy snow, he leaned against her and died in the snow.

chapter three

Chapter 03 Children's painting is a happy and naive person. When my mother first named me, I didn't know how to think of children's paintings. Maybe it's the name. I still like reading fairy tales until now. My deskmate is a handsome boy. He also likes reading fairy tales. But all the fairy tales he reads are gloomy and sad. I remember when the teacher arranged the seats on the first day of meeting, she looked at my name on the blackboard and grinned. He said, ah, your name is Tong Hua. After telling fairy tales, he began to talk more. Later, he also lent me a fairy tale he liked very much, called "Wild Goose Crossing to Stay in the North". But the story inside is too dark and sad. That night I sat on the windowsill and looked out at the whole huge sleeping city. The stars are dark. You can hardly see the light. I thought the world would always be dark. I seldom go to bed so late and stay up late, but after reading that fairy tale, I am very sad. I don't think the story inside makes me sad, but when I think that Yao Wang has been living in such a world, how gloomy and sad should his heart be? Every day after that, I looked at his beautiful face and cheerful smile, thinking about his silent expression sitting alone on the windowsill at night. I feel breathless when I think about it. Many people in the class like him. I think he is cheerful, kind and happy. The more people talk, the more I seem to believe. I have always been a parrot. It's easy to be led by others. But I still can't forget the sadness that those fairy tales gave me. Can a person who puts such a fairy tale in his schoolbag every day become a truly happy person? Sometimes I wish he was as shallow and ignorant as other boys, just like them, running around the playground, laughing and chatting around beautiful girls. I'd rather he lived so monotonous than he loved those desperate fairy tales so much. He doesn't need to read many literary books. You don't need to get such good grades. You don't need to be liked by countless girls. He just needs to be an ordinary happy big boy. I have been lending him those beautiful fairy tales of my family. In those books, the prince is always with the princess, and the soldiers looking for the treasure will always find the treasure. The sleeping princess will be awakened by the prince's rose-scented lips, and the frog will shed that skin and become a smiling prince. But he always smiled and shook his head and said, hey, these books are for children. I can't beat him either. But he also told me that he believed there were angels in this world. Everyone has his own angel. They take care of everyone in heaven and earth. But maybe sometimes they will be tired, sleepy and neglected. Maybe you'll drop your wallet and wrestle. Or worse, the person you love will leave you. However, when they wake up and look at your sad face, they will feel distressed. Then they will make it up to you, and they will become stronger inside after the injury. The time after the blow will become a fortune. I remember when he said these words to me that day, it was on the playground, and the school organized an amusement party. He and I are crowded in the same grid of the Ferris wheel. When the Ferris wheel turned to the top, he suddenly smiled next to me. He said, angels are up there.

chapter four

Chapter 04 Zhong Cheng is a fool, and it's almost summer before you know it. Just like this time of year, the days are getting longer and the nights are getting shorter. Then the sunshine makes everyone's mood clean. I'm still used to eating a big breakfast every day, as I started many years ago, and then waiting for her to go to school with me downstairs in Tonghua. I'm still used to copying her notes and boiling water for her. Sometimes when I think about it, I feel that time flies. It's been almost ten years. I met her when I was about to go to primary school. Then we went to primary school, junior high school, and now we are a senior one. I've seen her jump rope with a horn braid. I also watched her funeral for a butterfly in the park. The matchbox was used as a coffin, and she kept crying. Just like in a dream, we dance, dance and grow up. Those white lines that once crossed the ground were washed away by the sudden rainstorm in summer. I almost forgot how to draw a jump. I am not good at talking. Children's paintings often say that I am a fool. So no girls like it. I always nod, too. I only like her in my heart. So whether girls like it or not becomes less important. I remember once a child drew a picture for me to do a psychological test, using various festivals. Later, the test results came out. Children's paintings are Christmas, happy people, and can make people around them feel beautiful. I am April Fool's Day. There is a big explanation. I forgot how to say it, Tong Hua said with a smile. To sum up, Zhong Cheng is a big idiot! hahaha. Later, when she laughed, her voice disappeared, leaving only the shape of a smile on her mouth. Her face turned a little red, then she turned around and hit me in the chest with her arm and said, hey, a boy got it, so it was Valentine's Day! I squinted with laughter. I said, Ah, ah, his life is so good, I really envy him. The heart quickly darkened, like a circuit that suddenly tripped, and the whole chest was dark. Those sorrows choked in the depths of the throat. Bitter taste on the tongue. Looking at Tong Hua's happy face, I don't know what to say. The sentence "I hope you are happy" also seems artificial and melodramatic. She is still the same as when she was a child. Tell me everything. Tell me I quarreled with my mother today. I saw a beautiful skirt today. I heard a sad song today and cried my eyes out. I didn't pass the rice physical education exam today. I fell in love with a boy today. But ... I'm still happy. Like the most loyal audience, I watched her life drama in the dim cinema. I sat in the middle seat, smiling and crying, and finally saw him with her. Should I stand up and applaud? Or should I be moved to tears in the dark? There are many mosquitoes on the top floor of the school in summer, and few people go there. But I still like this place. I liked paper airplanes since I was a child, and then I ran to the rooftop to fly them. Later, when I grew up, I watched a movie in which a boy just kept folding paper planes. He wrote a lot of words on the paper plane. Write about the girl he likes, and then finally one day, the girl passed by his house downstairs, the plane stopped at her feet, and she slowly spread out the paper plane. I remember when I saw this place in the movie, it was like suddenly opening a huge door. Those lights poured straight into the darkness, and the light brought all the fresh worlds. However, I always wonder how many years it will take for my paper plane to fly so far, instead of flying to the feet of children's paintings. However, even on that day, when my fragile paper plane finally became strong, finally stood the wind and rain, and finally flew to her feet, who can guarantee that she just bowed her head at that moment? Just like fools always ask themselves stupid questions. I keep asking myself this question.

chapter five

Chapter 5 They are two people, and I don't know what it's like to like someone. So I asked Zhong Cheng, the boy I was close to since childhood, but what can this fool answer? He can only frown and scratch his head and say, I don't know. In the playground that never closes in the dream, Yao Wang will always be the one selling candy at the door. He raised his beautiful face, narrowed his beautiful eyes and smiled at everyone. With colorful candy in his hand. After the dream, everyone left. I'm left alone, he said, holding my hand. In fact, happiness is candy. So I am a happy peddler. I always thought these stories would only happen in dreams. One day, however, all this happened in reality. It's like walking into the plot of a movie, and everything around you begins to become colorful. I also know how exaggerated those girls' surprised expressions are. Just like I know how warm Yao Wang's palm is. I also know how nervous I am. Just like I know how wide Yao Wang's breasts are. Many times, I think that I will marry and have children with Yao Wang in the future. It will still be sad to part. No matter what happens, I think I will remember that beautiful season and gentle wind when I am old. He and I swayed on the Ferris wheel countless times and saw the whole city, the whole world and the whole lit world under our feet. On the Ferris wheel, I always thought that Yao Wang was an angel. The wind is blowing from a distance. Then soft wings grew behind him. He said, thank you for swinging with me.

Chapter vi

Chapter VI Yan Yue is the third person. It's already June. Green flows through every street. The sun is so strong that it hurts every pair of eyes. In Xia Guang, when I lie on the grass and look at the sky as usual, I always cry. Watching it for a long time is like losing your mind. June is my favorite season. Every season, I like wandering in the street. Sometimes when I pass by a beautiful outdoor coffee shop, I will stop for a drink. Then look at those people who are in a hurry on the street, or people who are doing nothing like me. I watched it all summer. I often see Yao Wang. There are also children's paintings in his class. They should be lovers. I forgot whether it was in Andersen's fairy tales or Grimm's fairy tales. A fairy tale begins with "Mountains and canyons are destined to meet, just as some people and others are destined to meet". Later I copied this sentence on the wall, and I drew it clearly with a pencil. Many sleepless nights, I will draw this sentence on the wall one by one, just like copying a pen copybook when I was a child. I always meet him at school. With them. I saw him riding a bike, waiting for her to go home together after school. I saw him habitually drinking two bottles of coke. Look at the beautiful necklace around his neck. I can tell at a glance that it smells like a girl. How does a boy choose such a beautiful necklace? Sometimes you will meet him when you are wandering in the street. In the record store, he shook his head with headphones. On the playground, he saw him driving a go-kart alone and staring at the fountain like a fool. He is also often seen waiting for the bus at the No.46 bus stop. I also take bus no.46. Then we realized that our home was so close that we even looked out of the window. As long as he lights the lamp at night, I can see the dim window. Just like a very faint star in the sky, you can still see it. You can often meet them when you go home on weekends. He always takes a big bag of clothes home for his mother to wash. Boys also can't wash clothes. All summer. It's like being dyed green. Sometimes he calls late at night. At first, I asked some math problems that I didn't know. Because he is the second in the whole grade. The only person who can help him solve the problem is me. And every time after that, I started chatting. I used to think that Yao Wang was the kind of calm, taciturn boy. However, I gradually found that his personality is like a child who doesn't grow up. He will also tell me in a depressed tone that math problems are getting harder and harder. He will also be very excited to tell me that his kitten gave birth to a kitten. He will also be shy about talking about his girlfriend. He also purrs from his throat. Then he told me that he was drinking green tea, which he likes best in summer. The refrigerator is full of bottles and jars. This summer. I looked up at the blue sky overhead. It's really lonely

Chapter VII

Chapter VII Yao Wang is a sad man. I like the movie Everything in Zhou Lili. I like even Xiong Jian standing in the vast wheat field with headphones on, silent. I like to watch the green cat keep typing on the keyboard. But children's paintings don't like it. She said it was cruel. Youth is not like this. But is everyone's life happy? I didn't tell her that I had no mother since I was a child. My mother died when I was three years old. I was a friendless person when I was a child. I went to the amusement park alone and played the slide all afternoon. Then I cried. I don't like those happy fairy tales since I was a child. Because I think they are all lying to children. However, I still like children's paintings. She is like a lamp in the dark, illuminating my once dark world. I even saw a vague and beautiful side of the world in her. I'm a little willing to believe in the beauty of this world. Children draw that you are a strong and kind girl. She cried when I finished this sentence. I don't know how to tell her that my former friendship has become a good friend. What I once liked was just a yearning for happiness that I never had before. What I really like is the girl named Yan Yue in the next class. The girl studying in an empty place stood at the dusk when the poisonous spider died. The girl who ran into the grass near the playground. That lonely girl looks like me. Yao Wang, who is happy and perfect in front of everyone, studious and brave, and all girls like her, is not me at all. He's like a character I played. The real me is weak. Childish. Willful. Proud. Ignorance. Depressed love darkness. And these. But it's me in Yan Yue's eyes. In a sentence I read before, someone said, I love you not because of what I can be, but because of what I can be. My favorite fairy tales are darkness and despair. And you are a beautiful and happy fairy tale. I can't bear to let you accompany me to see the ugly world. So, I hope you will live happily all the time. Always believe that the beauty of the world is like a brightly lit playground. It never closes. Tong Hua, will you still hate me after many years? Will you remember me forever, or will you forget me soon? Or ... in your dreams.

Chapter VIII

Chapter 8 Zhong Cheng is a person you can see when you turn around. Summer is coming to an end. I've been thinking this way these days. This is the last year of our senior three. In these hot days. I became particularly sad. Those sad emotions are like the sunshine left over this summer. In the last days, it became stronger and stronger. In my memory, children's paintings have never been so sad. I accompany her to school every day. After school. Eat it. Don't talk to her. Sometimes she stands under a tree and suddenly stops. Then he lowered his head and cried. I'm at a loss. After a while, I heard her say that Yao Wang had waited for me under this tree ... but he wouldn't wait any longer ... that's how we all grew up. Love. Lovelorn. Pain. Grow up. The song that we thought we would never forget was filled with the new favorite when we filled in the "favorite" column of the graduation yearbook. I once saw a crying play, but I don't even remember the plot. This is how we all grow up bravely while being injured. It's like going to an empty classroom alone. But after all, people have been making noise. It's like a paint box thrown away in a trash can. But after all, it is colorful on the canvas. Just like in a rainstorm in summer, he quietly opened an umbrella for you. I know you remember all this. But I want you to forget. It's like taking this year out of your life. As happy as when we were growing up. I still stand by and watch you. Or help you make breakfast, take notes and stand downstairs in a daze. You are still the child who doesn't understand sad painting. I'm still that stupid fool. Okay？ I remember a favorite children's painting story called "The Country Behind the North Wind". I kept telling her, and then I forgot everything. I'll go with you if you want to. Although I am an unloved fool. Although I can't support a higher blue sky than him. Although I don't have an excellent report card. Although I don't like reading, I can't play the piano. However, no matter how long it takes, I will always be by your side. Won't go far.

Chapter 9

Chapter 09 Children's paintings are people who look at the Ferris wheel. I once heard that people who look at the Ferris wheel are looking at happiness. Three years ago, I held hands with you and looked at such a huge turntable, wondering which grid happiness was placed in. And three years later, there was only one person looking out, with a stiff expression and still looking. That person is me. We graduated. Another late summer. From then on, we parted ways. Just like the last English exam, we noisily tore our own things into pieces and threw them on the balcony. Like snow, pieces of paper flew all over the playground. Are we going to fly to every place in the world like this? And I ... I don't miss you that much anymore. After Sanqiu, people gradually became brave. The night when the tears soaked my pillow, I was fixed into a pale sketch in my memory. You once told me that we all lost time, including the love we once thought was the greatest and most desperate. If we learn to understand at such a young age that no matter how long life is, it is a dull and noisy farce, then who will love others at such a beautiful age? Only when time plays slowly like a movie, the new film will be on the file and the old film will end. Only when one day we suddenly see the subtitles floating at the end of the film in a dark cinema, tell us that the stories told by these light and shadow are the illusions imagined by these teams and their perfect masterpieces. Only at that moment, when the lights are everywhere and we are like the ghosts of dawn, can we understand that life is complicated, as sad and great as mystery. We are sad ghosts. Buried sadly at the moment when time collapses. It's just those habits I once developed. How long will it take to get rid of them? I'm used to being alone with you, being alone with you and not talking to you. Standing on the hillside with you, watching the weeds spread into a sea like a relic. Wandering on the ferris wheel with you. Running with you in the rain. Fly kites with you in the open playground one after another. Some have been flying. Some broken lines fall into the vast sea of people. Those habits that have been formed are like patterns printed on the body. They say it hurts to wash off tattoos. Then, it will be painful to get rid of the habit. I just hope that time is the best therapist. A bigger Ferris wheel was built in this city. I will come alone this time. You once asked me, is the world still like that after I close my eyes? The way you asked seriously appeared repeatedly after you left, when I was distracted. We are so serious that we feel tired. Close your eyes, the world is climbing. Do you think it will go all the way to heaven? Last time, I just watched the scenery hand in hand with you. This time, I have to think alone. Your once bright smiling face appeared on your head. When can I remember you quietly? No more sadness?

Chapter 10

You are the one who has heard the story, what happened. Those old movies. Weeds were overgrown in those years. At this moment, draw a full stop You heard the whole story. Just like wizards all over the world suddenly raised their hands and waved gold paint to polish all the bleak years. He and she stood quietly in front of us. Time never changed their young faces. Just like years can't take away those gloomy past. No one knows where he or she has gone. Like a doll lost in mystery as usual. No one will find them again. Only the stories they left behind. Only what they left behind. Every rainy night haunts again and again. Sticking to the road wet. By lonely passers-by in the morning, buried with footprints over and over again.