When I said these two words, I myself laughed a little bit, this thing, are you sure? ?
Nietzsche said "God is dead", and the church is still full of people; we shout "love is dead", but there are still many people who go forward to overcome difficulties, so love is a kind of poisonous religion, of course, atheists, you can maintain the greatest suspicion , Is there really my mother, or my father? ?
(1)
I am 21 years old, I have never been in a relationship, I hope, I am afraid, I am tired, I am more of a can't tell what he is.
I like MIKE NICHOLAS, I like his graduates, his spirituality, his stealing, his alienation and distrust. From the beginning of the confusion about love, to the disgust for marriage, to the mutual crushing of feelings, I saw the serious eyes of the old man from the bitter Hoffman, to the deformed jade woman, and then to the end of the striptease. The loli, his scalpel-like lens breaks down love again. Now we see the heart, bright, with a poisonous light of injury, it is an apple, eat it, touch it, and it will grow up.
Still always scared when I see a love liar, I'm afraid it will be like that. When one day I see it through, one day I get oily, I will talk nonsense, and then there is only a sad twin in my heart. Sometimes, I get tired and I don't believe it. When I saw my friends around me, one by one suffered, one by one drank heavily, and one by one was devastated. Always think, love is a bitch. Zhang Yimou probably has read too many love novels, so he made such a pure movie, so pure that I don't believe this is Zhang Ziyi in the lipstick advertisement. I don't believe that such a beautiful wheat field will sway in the north for a love about Kazi, and I also don't believe that the scallion pancakes will be more delicious than the ones from Starbucks Häagen-Dazs on the island. I don’t believe it, I don’t believe it, when it’s big, I always give a discount to what others say.
I'm normally lonely and want to find one, but it's more alienation, fear, and mistrust.
(two)
The love of mother and father is more of a kind of patience. My mom got married at my age, and marriage taught her a lot. My dad was more of a spoiled child. The relationship between them is more like real life, more in line with the marriage that my classmates told me, that is, two people endure each other a little bit, two people support each other, not lonely, not unhappy, but nothing to say. happiness.
My mother is a Cancer, her mind is all on me, she puts all that she has not got on me, I am my mother's love, family, and friendship. But sometimes, I'm afraid of this kind of love, because I'm afraid to live up to it, and I'm afraid that I can't give her the best. I know that Dad doesn't give her as much joy as I do, but that's life.
Sorry Mom, I have read your diary, I have seen your dream as a girl when I was so old, to find a man I can rely on, a family who can live without worrying about myself, and live with a beautiful family . Sorry Mom, we didn't do it. I didn't, dad didn't, grandpa didn't, grandma didn't, uncle didn't, aunt didn't, we shattered a lot of your dreams, we let you carry a lot of burdens you shouldn't have at your age. I don't know how to panic when you're kicked out of the house, when you're arguing with your dad, when you're being taunted by your aunt for having a daughter, life draws a line on your beautiful face Another thing that shouldn't be there at all. When my classmates saw your photos, they all said you were beautiful. You have nice eyes, nice skin, nice calves. You don't see love, you see life. I didn't see tears, I saw independence.
I only remember your tears once, when I was very young, I wiped your face with a towel, and I said that my mother doesn't cry. I know, that's the sum of the tears I haven't seen many times, because you never show your troubles in front of me, because I will always be your child, and I should never cry when I should be dreaming.
Love, this time is more like the onion, ginger and garlic in life.
(3)
It turned out that I didn't like my grandma very much. She was the only child of that era, and the degree of pampering can be imagined. In the family, she is the most domineering, quarreling to the point that parents and mothers can't communicate with each other. In my childhood memory, I always go back and forth with my grandfather's house alone on weekends.
I always doubt the love between them, they are free love, at that time, I am afraid it is also a pioneering work. My grandfather, Neixiu, handsome, diligent, stubborn, in my eyes is the representative of the most perfect man, in my eyes, he is more important than my father, but how could he like me grandmother? She is not beautiful and has many flaws in her character. After so many years of life, they are perfectly together. The strengths and weaknesses of my grandma's character are preserved intact, while my grandfather always decides everything, but can accommodate everything. There were a lot of questions in my heart, and I even thought that because my grandma's family was rich, maybe.
When I was in my third year of high school, when my grandfather left us, when many, many things happened, I suddenly felt that she was getting old. She no longer scolded people, did not argue, and did not get angry for no reason, like It is the soul that has left, and is dazed every day, like returning to a child-like state of restlessness. Every time I go back to see her, I always feel like something is disappearing. When she told me that my grandfather came back last night and he touched the light bulb, I didn't understand; when she told me that my grandfather hadn't seen me get married, I didn't understand; when she told me that my grandfather suffered all his life, I haven't lived to the age of seventy, I didn't understand; when she told me that in a dream last night, my grandfather married an old woman, I didn't understand; when she told me that she wanted to go with grandpa, I was still like a Like a fool, I didn't see it, my grandma, such a bitter, unreasonable, and such a fragile, easy-hearted woman, was really heartbroken, and what she wanted was curled up in a corner in the past. She talks to the photo of her grandfather every day, hoping that her smiling lips will say a word or a half every day. Because of the absence of love, her life has never left. The disappearance of all the things that have given her to her has left her at a loss, like a balloon that has been evacuated, withered.
I don't know what to say. Every time in a dim little room, my grandma told me how grandpa chased her, how she made grandpa's sweater, how to steal grandpa's favorite duck neck from home, how to quarrel with him, every second. Only at this time can we see vitality and happiness. But more often, it was tears and drooping corners of the mouth. I don't know how to comfort her, and sometimes I get bored. Will talk back to her, saying she is superstitious.
But in fact, I know that I envy and envy my grandma very much, because she has love, she can live in love, even if it is only diffused in a dilapidated old house, or in a black and white smile, or in a loose sweater.
(4)
After I understand my grandmother, it is difficult to like Zhang Ailing, Li Bihua and other women who seem to be very open-minded. Sometimes, their words are too shrewd and scary, but I am a mess of infatuation, you see , Human language is inherently false. Now I am willing to look for Bemba Jin's anthology and watch him recall Xiao Shan in a simple and simple way. It turns out that in the end, I still believe in the vulgar things like holding a child's hand and growing old with a child.
Grandma's love is like a sequel to the movie, and my mother's love is a paragraph that has been harmonized by montage, only me, standing in the movie, smiling with a blue and white bowl.
Now, hold my right with my left, my dear, and let's wait for the grapes to ripen first.
View more about The Road Home reviews
