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Guling Street Juvenile Murder Case.
I don't know how many people have the patience to endure the dreary three hours at the beginning of the movie. It was divided twice after more than half a month, and last night I finally finished it quietly. It is a blessing to be able to watch a movie alone in peace.
The cruelty of the movie is that it shreds our fantasies and shows us the dripping truth, not the whitewashed peace.
Xiaocui and Xiaoming both said that I, like this world, cannot be changed. Sometimes girls feel the cold and bloody truth of the world earlier and more acutely than boys.
When the kitten is still seriously arguing for a tape, when the fourth is still fighting the world in the way of a child.
Where did their sharpness and precocity come from?
I clearly remember that I used to be a child who loved the motherland, loved the people, had ideals and morals, and had clear love and hate. But I can't remember the day when these absolutely positive and absolutely right things fell and collapsed. I no longer fully believe in the world.
Fortunately, some things are only limited to thinking, only to feel when watching a movie or reading a book. In real life, you are just always looking for a way to live in peace with the world and yourself. Even, deliberately let yourself live a simpler and more tacky life. Metaphysical thinking, metaphysical life? (Well, actually I don't know what goes up and down)
As a friend says, make yourself better. I think this is the motivation for all the introspection and self-learning after the awakening of self-awareness over the years.
Opinions and moral consciousness gradually become ambiguous and ambiguous, and there are no longer clear boundaries. Such changes are no longer suitable for expressing opinions, like argumentative essays in high school, but I think this is good.
Tell you about my high school.
It is also a provincial key middle school. He is famous for taking home a number of Mathematical Olympiad trophies. Of course, that honor doesn't belong to the mediocre majority like me - it doesn't seem very kind to drag the majority of people into my array for no reason - what we need to do is stay within 250 and be safe to enter a certain university. Of course, it's not always that lucid when you're in it. So for three years in high school, I lived in a mess, and that additional year finally failed to last until the end.
I am grateful for my high school.
In those three or four years, it gave me enough pampering and space.
In Chinese class, sleep or read novels for the whole period, give the answer when called by the teacher, or say I don't know, and then sit down. Plugged in the earphones in a daze, and got bored, went downstairs from the back door, measured the playground, and the sun shone diagonally on him. During the weekly test, I thought that the essay question was not pleasing to the eye, so I gave up my schoolbag and handed in the paper, because I didn’t want to write it—it was uncomfortable. The teacher waved his hand, and you go. So fly home. By the way, that day, there was a power outage in a large area on the way home, because of the policy of power cut off by district, but when I got home, there were lights waiting for me. At that time, on a winter morning, I could fly to school to get sweaty clothes. At that time, I flew my bicycle faster than a minibus. I had a series of car accidents and had three or four stitches behind my ears. I remember being vaguely frightened. In my dream this morning, I rode a bicycle to carry people and galloped. The bicycle was uncontrollable like a wild horse, ramming through the slopes and alleys. I felt guilty and happy, scared and excited.
In fact, I haven't touched a bicycle for almost two years after graduating from high school.
I skipped the evening self-study and took the car for nearly two hours to and from, in order to meet my friends for 15 minutes.
In order to watch a comic exhibition, I didn’t eat lunch, made up a reason not to go home, went to the Academy of Fine Arts in the rain, lingered until the opening time, and was told that it was withdrawn yesterday-I have never told anyone about this ending. When that girl was chasing the bus with her companions in the pouring rain, she used to be unpredictable - I will be grateful when I think about it in the future.
At that time, I cherished it so much that I won even a little bit of my own time. When everyone is immersed in the book test paper, you are leisurely in your own little world, even if you have nothing to do, there is a kind of guilty pleasure.
There are also gangsters in key middle schools. There are also students who have paid large sums of money. This, perhaps, is what I miss most about that school. There are two boys in the class who are borrowing. But they are no different from us, they belong to this class as well. Although, in fact, that class is not enough. Later, when I went back to repeat my studies, the teacher showed no impatience and was quickly accepted by the children in that class. They took the initiative to say hello to me, and when I was walking on the road, someone would call my name from behind, and they could not pronounce the third I'm not used to turning back and smiling at them when they catch up. Graduation, every meeting, will call me to go. On the contrary, the previous classes, junior high school and high school, were almost never seen again. The friendship between people is not proportional to time.
And now, I'm talking about one of those two boys in the class.
In fact, it was not until a long time later that I realized that it turned out that I was so close to a gangster who used to fight fakes all day long, smoked and drank, and the girls around me kept changing. At the time, I didn't know the nature of it all. Hehe~ A simple and beautiful child~ Actually, I often see him with that group of people. I don't like them. When I meet them on weekdays, I will subconsciously avoid them. However, when he is with them, when he greets me, rubs messing up my short hair, I can't seem to see them.
Yes, maybe, in the eyes of strangers, in the eyes of some teachers, he is not a good student, just a little gangster who sleeps in class without learning and skills. However, in the eyes of every friend, he is very good. I wouldn't be surprised, let alone blame, to do anything to him. Because seeing a child face the helplessness and confusion of the world. We are all the same, but expressed in different ways. This kind of understanding is more often a conjecture. It's like watching a movie, empathizing with those events that we have never experienced. Even if we are gentle and polite in reality, it does not prevent the other us from understanding those crazy, paranoid, bloody and cruel. Not crazy is just another form of insanity. Human nature is irrational.
It was a boy who gave birth to a desire for protection. distressing. On the court, tying up your shoelaces, and running like hell--I used to tell people that if I just looked at him on the court, I would love him--but I saw something else, so, only Being able to be friends, I also once said that being his good friend is happier than being his girlfriend. After walking off the court, he told me that he was old and could no longer run, and asked me to rub his shoulders. Been in hospital for a while. Electroacupuncture. I once told me that it was an unknown disease inherited from the family. Doctors once predicted that he would not live to be thirty years old. Ah. This topic should not be discussed seriously, but neither should it be taken lightly. So, it gradually became unreal, like, my imagination.
In the year of re-reading, he often came to see me, of course, by the way, and every time he came in through the wall. However, I didn't tell him that when I looked up and found him outside the window, it was the happiest moment of that year.
Even if it's just for his birthday, what do you want, the re-reading year did not fall behind. I knew it was impossible, but that tone seemed to allow you everything.
Every time I come, it's only a few minutes, and I even ask me to borrow money in a few words. And I, when describing him, said that he was the one who asked me to borrow money, and I would empty all of my body. But later, he lent me the money. The remittance slip filled out by his girlfriend. I feel like I'm not wrong.
In fact, the contact has been sparse. Each has their own lives. No emotion. Even friends feel like this. When he has a stable girlfriend, he loses contact with his friends. Every time I go home, I do not deliberately contact. Unless, I brought a cigarette back to him.
He lived with his girlfriend for several months, but he taught me in the middle of the night text messages, girls should protect themselves, in short, don't let yourself suffer.
In this case, there is a bit of patriarchy, but there is a bit of genuine care in the gratitude.
And I, still, remember, asked him if he had ever really liked someone, and he said, yes.
Memories are not real, especially about youth. Youth is nothing. All the beauty, the pursuit, the pain, the dullness, the sharpness, are all additions to looking back. We use memories to recolor old faded photos, and no matter how we add them, we can't restore them to their original appearance. We were deceived and deceived. But we are willing to be deceived by it, deceived by it, and bewitched by it.
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