Life is like this.


I saw Ruome again in the summer of 2003. On the chaotic train station, when I got off the train, I saw the woman in a red dress with a long red hair hanging down to the waist and smiling at me. We didn’t talk, just watched for a long time. I saw her exquisite dressing dressing up her beautiful dress. She also looked at my desolateness and didn’t speak. We are familiar and unfamiliar.
I sat behind her with her car. Looking at the expensive items in the car, my heart was blocked very badly. One of my shirts was bought two years ago. The jeans on my legs also broke several holes. I looked at the woman who used to be with me. Elegant, looking at the charm of her maturity. My teeth are not consciously groaning. I hate it all the time. I hate this woman who has gone to pay for me. What is even more abominable is that she is better than I thought, and it is a lot better than many times. .


I am a wandering writer. To say that it is a writer, in fact, it is just a code word. I only published a few articles in magazines across the country, so I am poor. It was poverty that most people could not imagine. When I was the poorest, I only had 5 cents left in my pocket. At that time, I had not eaten a meal. However, I still persisted. All along, I am doing a dream, a dream about literature. Many of my things can’t be understood by others. They think that I live by words like a poor dog, but they don’t know, I am humble. I firmly believe that my words will somebody understand someday, and some people will understand what I am writing, but I don’t know if I can wait until that day. Because many literati are only paying attention to his words after death. Based on this idea, I used to have the idea of ​​suicide. I think as long as I am dead, there will be more people to pay attention to my words. It is also because of this thought that I met today’s Ruomei.
I wrote on the BBS: Others say that we are just a group of madmen with pens, we don’t understand life, we are just playing with life. They always think that we imagine the world very simple, but I have to tell them that they are all wrong. We have our own unique sensitivity. We use words to write our opinions. Maybe we don’t understand politics, but we have to express one hundred times more profound than politics. Just how many people can see it? How many people can understand? Life is really helpless. No matter how hard we try, we can’t reach the place we booked. We walked forward and walked, but we didn’t know why we were moving forward. Human beings are sad, living in their own sorrow to create the sorrow of others. If one day, I don’t want to be sad anymore, then I will choose to end this sorrow by hand. If life is a play, then no one will be the winner.
When I went online the next day, I saw the message named Ruomei: Maybe the world is not as beautiful as we think, but we are still working hard to make ourselves better. I believe in this world and believe in everyone. Will work hard to believe in this world. We are not making sorrow, but you are blinded by sorrow, you can’t see the beauty of this world, then please let me take you out of your sorrow and return you a clear sky.
I laugh. Laughing at her ignorance, laughing at her arrogance, and laughing at her own embarrassment. In fact, I don’t understand myself, but I have been suppressing myself. I tied my soul with words.
We started to contact by mail. Her words are light and beautiful, and they are poetic. My words are decadent and arrogant, but we always have a lot to say together, we wander through the Internet like the elves sucking in the night. We talked a lot, she talked about her love, her life, her friend. And I have been talking about the people and things I encountered in my wanderings, and my confusion. I told her that she was not surprised when I wanted to commit suicide. Just saying: I have already discovered it when I look at your text. I am just curious, what kind of desperation will have such an idea, but you are a special person. Although you hate the world, you are alive and well. Even if you want to die, it’s just to compete with life, so I know that you won’t end your life so easily. You are more passionate about life than anyone else, love your words, and you are a rebellious person in your bones.
When I heard these words, I laughed again and was very open-minded. I was thinking, finally someone knows me. Even a thorough understanding than myself.

We decided to meet up after three months of understanding.
I went to the city where she was, and called her to pick me up. I called for the first time on her phone. I heard the soft and soft female voice inside. I was imagining what kind of woman is this? Leaning against the railing next to the train station, I stared at the sky and suddenly felt that life could be so beautiful.
Hello, I am Ruomei. A female voice, behind my back, is very awkward, but very comfortable. I silently counted three times in my heart, turned around, smiled, smiled hard, and the sunset was long and long behind me.
I looked at the woman who was like a water in front of her eyes. Her long hair was hanging between her waist. The small lips were like the inlaid under the handsome nose. It looked almost exactly the same as I imagined. I said, I have the sensitivity that ordinary people don’t have, including for women, I guess, there must be a story between us, or I expect a story with such a beautiful, intelligent woman.
Hello, I am a philosopher.
I know. She raised an eyebrow. The posture you look at the sky is a gesture that is eager to fly. Your eyes are not actually closed. You are only measuring the height of the sky in the city and whether it is conducive to your flight conditions.
Looking at her clear eyes, I suddenly felt that maybe I could find a sky that belongs to me in this city.

I didn’t bring my luggage, because I don’t have any luggage, I can only take my words and my thoughts. I settled down in the small room where Ruomei rented. Every day she went to work, I was at home. In the evening she went home, I cooked for her to eat, never had such a comfortable day, I don’t know what it’s like this time, but I actually feel that there is a kind of warmth flowing between us and seeing her happiness. After drinking the soup I cooked, I saw her gentle around me, watching her little bird cuddling with me, watching her bleak face after falling asleep at night. There is a kind of thing that has been filled in the chest like overflowing. I have never understood what this strange feeling is. Until many years later, I realized that it was the happiness I have been pursuing. However, maybe happiness can’t be pre-emptive. I overdraw the happiness of this life, but I don’t know, so I am destined to pay for the happiness that I have lost with the life of vain.
Ruomei is a waitress at a hotel. It’s really just a clean waiter, but in this society, the waiter is already synonymous with the third industry practitioners. Ruomei is very sad, because there are often people who are cheap, but they have a mouth to speak, and they can’t say it. Every time I saw her tears, I was very distressed. I always said, don’t do it. If Rumei refuses to answer me, she insists that we all understand that she does not go to work, we have to starve to death, I am not a person who is willing to compromise easily, or that I am too stubborn to stubborn. I always insist on writing, I have never given up on my dream of literature. I think I can’t give her the life she wants. More understanding, more care, can’t compare with the reality of money, and I can never give her money.
We started the quarrel. She hoped that I would go out and find a serious job. In other words, in her eyes, the words that were so valued were already unfair. We are not wrong, I believe in my persistence, she insists on her stubbornness, but life has opened us a big joke. After all, we are just vulgar people, and we can’t escape the arrangement of life.
I didn’t take anything when I left, because I have nothing to take away. When I came, I didn’t expect that I would stay in this city for a year. I think this year will be the most in my life. A full time, because this year I have a woman besides the text. A woman I have been worried about for a year, although she has been lying down on the guy who is full of odor, but I still believe that I loved her, but I loved it, although I never told her. This is my love, one person, it will be good to stay in my heart. I can’t give her the life she wants, why bother to torture her?
Putting her away is also letting myself go.


I started my wandering life again. I took my words and left my soul in Ruome. I started to write novels, and every novel can see the shadow of Ruome. Her smile, her tears, her tenderness, her stubbornness, her final compromise, I put such a woman into my text one by one. My protagonist is always around this woman who has been with me for a year. After all, I can’t forget her. I use words to commemorate our love, or our support. However, I vented in the words, and I was painfully entangled in the words. No one understood what kind of painful pain it was.
I started to move around in various cities and I was looking for a balanced way. People are greedy animals, always looking forward to something better when they have it. I wandered on the edge of the darkness, like a beast that couldn’t find an exit, rambling in the dark until I was still bruised. I licked my wound and fell asleep in pain.
I started smoking, drinking, and even started to linger all night in the street all night. The people I have most despised before are such people. I feel that such people have no dreams and no pursuit. But I am pursuing my literature and pursuing my dreams. I left my important things while I was searching. I suddenly felt very tired. It was not physical, but spiritual. I began to feel that I was doing something wrong. I gave up such a woman and gave up that life. Is it really worth it?
I am born to be a stubborn person. Even if it is really decadent, even if I give up, I still stubbornly humble my pride. I sat on the side of the road and slept against the streetlights. The wind of October is blown on the body, as if to cut the skin. And I only wore a short sleeve, and the wine last night made me not slow down. The number of people coming and going is getting more and more. I can hear a lot of people talking about my voice. However, I have no energy to manage this. My hair is very messy, just like my thinking. I think that the three things people often do in this life are: self-deception, deception, and being deceived. And now I am in a state of self-deception. I try to convince myself that sitting here is no big deal. It doesn’t just affect the appearance of the city. Isn’t it being a neuropathy? They don’t just look at me with contempt. They looked at me like a monkey. Did you know that I closed my eyes and looked at them like a group of monkeys?
A small hand swayed in front of my eyes: wake up, wake up.
The tender child voice made me have to open my eyes. I saw a little girl about five years old with two small braids on her head. The face was red and red, and the big, watery eyes were watching me with concern. Suddenly there was a touch of emotion, and I feel that there will still be people in the world who care about me. I reached out and tried to touch her cute little face, but the excitement of the women around me made me retract my hand. I don’t want to create too much confusion. I looked at her: Is there something?
The sound is unusually mild, and the arrogance of the past is changed.
This, for you to eat. The little girl tried to put the bread in her hand in my hand. I smelled the cream on the bread and the taste of the baby cream used on the little girl. I looked at her, began to smile, and smiled hard.
I took the bread and ate it. I was thinking that this child must treat me as a homeless beggar. But what about it? I was homeless, and the rented house has already expired. The landlord’s wife is dying every day to remind me to pay the rent, and I have no money on it. It’s really gone, there is no penny. It is. However, I met a kind child like this in the first freeze. Is this the hope of life?
The little girl sat down beside me and watched me eat a whole loaf of bread without speaking. Both eyes have been squatting on me, saying: Uncle, what are you doing, are you not cold? Why are you not happy?
Uncle is not unhappy, just frustrated, understand?
I don’t understand, but uncle, your eyes are very red, you must have cried, who is bullying you?
I looked at this innocent child and told her seriously: no one can bully the uncle, the uncle himself bullied himself, whether you can understand it, you must remember later, you must not deceive yourself, if you can, choose Believe in this world, understand? This way you can grow up happily and happy, just like your uncle.
Looking at her, she seemed to understand and nod. I got up and left, and I wiped my face casually. I actually forgot that I cried last night.


That bread made me understand a lot of things. It is like a beam of light on my body, going home, I quickly wrote down all this with the computer, and the beautiful and lovely little girl, I think they will be the things that need to be treasured in my life, I will never forget it. On a cold morning, a little girl gave her fresh bread to the story of a lonely tramp. I have never written such warm and lyrical words, but in this text, I have found happiness that has disappeared for a long time.
The Internet is really a strange good thing. You try to spread the seeds of enthusiasm in this strange land. It can’t always bear fruit, and your unintentional actions may bring great repercussions. I think this is a matter of planting flowers and flowers. The story of the little girl quickly caused an uproar on the Internet, and many people followed in the post. Because many people have forgotten this wonderful thing, everyone is jealous in front of this little girl. We have forgotten the beauty we have had, how many people can she do?
This text also brought benefits to me. At the beginning, more people paid attention to my text. An editor’s friend told me that I have never found anyone who insists on you. The words of those people who used to watch them are always sick. However, your text is different. Let us think that we should reflect on it. What kind of attitude should we hold for the text?
A lot of my text was put on top of the major newspapers and magazines, along with my decadent image.
I think this little girl must have been sent to help me. Because of her, I began to feel that my literary dream is slowly being realized step by step. I started to find a publisher, and I wanted to publish a book for me. I finally found my way in the dark. No longer sinking, no longer embarrassing, always moving forward, always.
My book came out very quickly, and the reaction was very strong. They called me a rebellious writer who was at the cutting edge of the times. Every day, many readers sent letters. But people who are so lazy as I have never read their letters carefully, I have always been such a arrogant person. I watched my book sell big, but my mood was never implemented. It didn’t seem to be what I wanted. Being famous is not so important to me. The only benefit to me is money. I can be upright. Out of those big restaurants, those big restaurants, I don’t have to worry about not having instant noodles. I can concentrate on writing, but I can’t always find the passion I used to write. After all, I was softened in my life, and I was deceived by other forms of life. I started to fear, afraid to continue this way, I will become no longer me.