My sister and I, two only daughters, grew up together. They were no different from my own sisters. She was my first playmate in childhood. But cousins are cousins after all, no matter how much time they stick together, there will always be times when they go back to their respective homes, and then they can only play with themselves. My closest friend at home is a bath towel with a Mickey Mouse printed on a blue background. It feels great to the touch. I always hug and touch it at home, especially when I sleep. I called it Mickey Mouse at first, and then I called it "Micah shit" because of my vulgar taste when I was a child (and it is still vulgar now), and it was not disgusting at all. The adults teased me "Will you still have to wear this bath towel when you get married?" I jumped in a hurry, "Who wouldn't let me shit with Mi when I get married, I'll beat him
to death!" It was so beautiful. Mill shit didn't even make it through my elementary school. One time when I was watching TV, my mother urged me to do my homework. I refused to move for a long time. When I started fighting, I tore Mila shit in half. It's no use thinking about how I couldn't be obedient once a hundred times. Grandma sewed the two halves together, but Mila's shit seemed to be getting older and felt less and less soft than before. In fact, it could be torn in half as a bath towel at that time, indicating that it was already old, and even if there was no such incident, other things might destroy it in the future. Maybe this is fine, at least the murderer is not me, lest I blame myself.
On my birthday in the summer vacation of the first day of the new year, my aunt was opening a store and gave me a pig from the store. It felt as good as the Mila shit in the peak period, and it gradually replaced it completely. This pig accompanied me through middle school, high school, and college, and it was still on my lap when I was typing. Since August 2006, it has passed 9 years old now. It has been with me for about as long as Mi La Shi, and it still feels so good. Maybe I will marry it with it, who knows. It's actually a McDull pig, but it's not a McDull to me, just like rice shit is not Mickey Mouse to me, it's not the same as the McDull I see everywhere, it's just my pig Coulee. (I don't want to talk about it when I used the name "Xinwan".)
It should be that almost everyone's childhood is the period with the biggest brain hole. My sister and I have named almost everything in the house. For example, if you sit on a yellow armchair with a backrest, you will feel very stylish, so it is called "Yellow Emperor", and so on. A chair with armrests becomes a lower-level "Blue Emperor", and a green stool without a back and arms is the lowest-level "Green Emperor". Plastic chairs don't have that long lifespan. Yellow Emperor and Green Emperor are missing. Lan Emperor is still in my current home, weathered and dark, and his buttocks are not big enough to sit on when he grows up.
My sister told me that if you don't remember the day a doll came into your hands, the day you name it is its birthday. She named the little yellow chicken next to her bed "Yellow Pie", and the duck head pillow on my car was named "Grimace Dudu" (because arbitrary twisting of this duck head can form all kinds of strange expressions, and the grimacing dudu It was a kind of biscuit we loved to eat at that time, ah, is this biscuit still sold? It seems that I haven’t seen it for many years. The poor grimace Dudu was twisted too much by us and then the cotton wool came out. Alas, these Let's skip the tragic end). I also followed the example, and named the dog with two yellow circles on the back of the armrest of the sofa "Double-Yellow Egg"... In short, the days when I took a bunch of names but forgot to name them, simply They set their own favorite numbers as their birthdays, and vowed to give them birthdays every year in the future.
It didn't happen, because it didn't take long for the day I set to be forgotten.
I am most creative when I am either with my sister or with Bing. We even developed a complete system with Bing’s brain hole. I am the god of hot death and she is the god of cold death. We designed a god of death identification and painted it to declare sovereignty in various places, and invented a bunch of “death words” exclusively for the god of death. , I usually switch between the identities of death and human by turning circles. If I say human words when I am a god of death, or I say dead words when I am a human, I will be punished. This is about to end. Until the first day of the new year, we were still very close, and there were a lot of new dead words, but for some reason, we gradually became estranged. Maybe it's too childish.
I was embarrassed to tell her that no matter how mature I became, I still wanted to be childish when I was with her.
The first thing that made me sad in the movie was when the goofball island collapsed. If it was in other animations, I would have thought that the island would have sunk and it would have been rebuilt, but here I know it won't. , because I know that when the brain hole is closed, it cannot be opened again. When I was with my sister and Bing in elementary school, I invented the most new things. There were some after junior high school, and almost none after high school. Friends in middle and high school are more based on the sharing of emotions, experiences, and hobbies. Of course, this is also good, but it is different from the feeling of being so fresh and curious about everything when I was a child. I remember a lot of brain holes when I was a child, but I only remember the results of these inventions and don’t remember the process at all. Today, I lack imagination, and I can’t remember how the piles of ideas came up in the past. In addition to the brain hole, many islands of innocence, naivety, honesty, etc. are the same. Like in the movie, it sinks and is permanent. From ignorance to knowledge is an irreversible process. Once you have learned the sophistication, understood the reality and become accustomed to lies, in any case, it is impossible to let the mentality return to the time when you did not understand these things.
But when the old island sinks, a new one will emerge. I am just reluctant to give up, but I also understand that it is not necessarily a bad thing. Until the place where bing bong said "Take her to the moon for me" to joy, there was no way to hold back the tears. I think of so many little things that I have named, I always believe that things have spirituality, especially when I name them and spend time with them, I wonder if they also call my memory , and I unknowingly throw them into the abyss?
I don't want to forget them.
This article is dedicated to bing bong, my sister, good friend, and all my childhood companions.
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