Appreciation of the Content of The Snake

Eat it. Expansion. Just go in and don't go back No way back. self-destruction

Three days later, I received an email from Bobby Chen. He told me that I couldn't come because of my busy work. Three days ago, I flew alone for three hours with my thin luggage and arrived in a strange city. Why my loneliness is all related to three. It sounds the same. He has a wife and a family, and I am alone, or a mistress.

Night flight, from a distance, only thick black. Wing lights are flashing at an altitude of 10,000 meters. When I was a child, I looked up at these lights and made a wish. I always thought it was a meteor. I was not greedy at that time, just wishing "happiness forever".

However, if you love the wrong star, your wish will not come true.

So when I was alone on the third day, Bobby Chen sent me an email with simple words, as if every day had nothing to do with him. I buttoned my computer, put on my coat and stood in front of the window in a daze. In the blank, I saw the neon lights flashing on the street downstairs.

There is a small cinema next to the hotel. There are few games. At noon 12, I was the only one in the whole screening hall. I chose the best seat to sit down The face on the screen is very big, and the spots and wrinkles on the skin are so distinct. I am smiling silently, my voice can't penetrate the world, only in this space. At this time, the hand shadow of the word "one" was outlined on the huge screen.

I looked back at the location of the projection room. Someone is standing in the light leak. He withdrew his hand and put it in front of himself. Sign it for me-"Shh, keep your voice down". It turns out that you can't be arbitrary anywhere. He came to me from the darkness, and the thin light in the movie dyed him all over. Wearing a hoodie and jeans, he did not hesitate to sit in the empty seat next to me. I asked him why he was sitting here because there were so many empty seats. "Because you chose the best position, I can only rank second." When he spoke, the light came on.

He said, I left as soon as the curtain call light came on. I am the ghost of this cinema. I don't believe these jokes. I just laugh and it's hard to answer. However, at the end of the film, he disappeared. There is only a warm yellow Swiss candy on the seat. I like sweets. I like it very much. I love you very much. Bobby Chen knows my hobbies, and I know that I have three cans of Swiss sweets at home. Happy red cans, all kinds of cotton candy wrapped in candy paper. I often have toothache and beg him to take me to the dentist in the middle of the night. Chen Sheng is my boss. On weekdays, we are very close. We deal with things coldly and sharply, and we hate any details that we can't control, so we strive for perfection in everything.

After the company's project celebration dinner, he kindly sent me home, because I was tired from work and fell asleep on the way. When I woke up, I was already in my living room and he was handing me a cup of warm water. The memory in my mind is very thin. It seems that he helped me go upstairs to unlock the lock, and I didn't wake up until this cup of warm water.

At home, colorful candy paper is stuck on the glass coffee table, which is as thick as fallen leaves and exudes a sweet taste. I was a little awake, trying to hide these candy wrappers, while explaining that "I've been too busy recently to clean up."

Chen Sheng smiled and said, "I always thought you were an indestructible iron man, but sugar was your weakness."

"Weak?"

Chen Sheng later sent me a lot of sugar, material and comfort.

Because that night he was convinced that he saw my weakness-"Eating sweet represents hope and happiness. Love candy represents extravagant hope and dependence. " He didn't tell me about it until later. And that night, he didn't say much, just peeled a candy before my question, and the warm and slender fingers, such as the sweet and bright leaves supporting the center of the candy paper, vaguely handed it to my lips.

This is his deliberate tentative approach to me.

And I, like him, swallowed this warm-hearted joy without resistance or rejection.

Twenty minutes later, I met the ghost of the cinema again. In this small cinema, the staff stood at the exit and chatted idly, and the five projection halls inside could shuttle around. Coming out of the movie, I was a little confused and turned and walked into the screening hall next door. It's still the movie above the shady scene. Looking up, there was a man sitting in the middle of the screening hall. I went over and sat in the empty seat next to him.

"Mr. Ghost, nice to meet you."

He also made a pretentious response.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Ghost."

I smiled and took out a candy and handed it to him. He motioned not to, because he just gave me that.

I insisted on putting it in his hand: "I ate what you gave me." I gave you this as a reward for teaching me how to watch free movies. "

He may not understand.

So I grabbed a handful of sweets from my coat pocket, and the colors were different. Rich as money, overlapping in my palm, heavy and happy. I mean-look, I have a lot of sugar, too. Ghost suddenly laughed. He took a candy from my hand.

"Thank you for returning the gift."

Thank you.

When I ate the first candy, I thanked the person who gave it to me. When I was four or five years old, the prop to stop tears was sugar. When I was seven or eight years old, the props that lied to me were also sugar. I hold a sugar jar and share it in the corner. Stack colorful papers together. Cellophane makes a "crackling" sound, like a cold fireworks jump.

The year my father left me, his bride gave me a jar of sugar. Good taste can cheat you all the time and even hand over important people. When the bride first appeared, she was just my father's friend. She gave me the first can of candy. When I was four or five years old, I was tempted by the sweet and warm taste and couldn't resist it.

Until the last can of sugar when I was eight years old, and then my father left me.

After my father left me, the can of candy sent by the bride was sealed by my mother. At first, this can of candy was smashed all over the floor by my mother. She sat in front of me silently, looking at the seven-color candy on the ground, and the cellophane was shining. But I climbed over, took the jar, picked it up one by one and put it in the jar again.

Just like a gesture of going back in time, watching the overflowing life be reversed back to the original.

But life is irreversible.

When I was eight years old, I was full of cavities. Some fell into the depths of the nerves and their cheeks were red and swollen with pain. When it hurts the most, sugar hurts. I even think that sweetness is a micro-corrosive agent, mixed with saliva and stinging the nerves. But I'll still eat, all the time. Mom scolded me and ate you to death. She may hate me. I hate myself. I felt unbearable pain when she took out the hidden candy jar, but I ate it one by one.

Devouring is like a process of destruction.

Nothing hurts more than eating. As if to remember hatred, once sweetness is the most painful catalyst at this moment. It breeds the deepest hatred and memory, and also breeds the deepest mutual appreciation. My mother cried like this. She finally promised to forget the past and start over.

Then a decayed tooth fell out, the chin was short, the hole was empty, and then a new life was born. The dentist said to me, remember, little friend, after that, your teeth should be well protected. Everyone will only change their teeth once, and the teeth after that will accompany you for life.

I'm too young. I don't understand the hardship and preciousness of rebirth.

I just nodded. Nod with mom.

Then for a while, I didn't eat much sugar. Maybe I can't forget the feeling of pain in the bone marrow. Whenever sweet rubs your teeth, you will think of that kind of pain. At the junior high school New Year's Day class meeting, the monitor gave candy to everyone. Cellophane and colorful papers are thrown on the table one by one, making a thumping sound, like the echo of a hole in your teeth.

The boy in the back seat likes to wear hoodies and jeans, but he doesn't like to make trouble. I always sleep in the back seat with my hat on my head at class meetings. But instead of sleeping, he showed two small eyes and looked at the fancy programs in the class. The little girl went up to sing. The little boy went up to sing. Or someone likes a girl singing, and we secretly look at that person. Or whoever likes that boy's singing will be pushed onto the stage by us.

Life is a mass of sweetness.

Like candy, what is hidden in the flicker is chronic poison. The taste is sweet, but the relics left in the mouth are gradually corroded. Teeth are the hardest bones in the human body. So it will be corroded and produce the hardest pain. The pain persists in your mouth and does not transfer. Even if your teeth are shattered, the pulp nerve implanted in your jaw will always be there, reminding you that the pain can't be resisted and eliminated.

I said to the ghost, do you have tooth decay because you love candy so much?

He said, no. I know moderation.

I shook my head, just laughing at myself, and then I didn't know how to control myself.

I pointed to my chin, from left to right. I said, here, here, my teeth are empty. After it corroded into a hole, the dentist filled it in for me. Ghost boy is very curious. He asked me, what exactly is tooth decay like? Can I have a look?

I smiled and said, how can I open my mouth to show you?

He was a little disappointed. So I grabbed his hand and stroked my cheek with his fingers. Through blood and meat, let him press it one by one. This is good, this is half broken. That one is empty. Don't push the other one. It's teetering and may fall soon.

This is my tooth.

This is my life after my comeback. It is also scattered, and no one is safe.

But I'm still eating sugar.

Ghost seems to touch his heart, and his warm fingers rest on my chin. He asked me, why do you still eat so much polysaccharide?

Many people ask me this question. Why do you still eat sugar? But in my life, only one person has asked me why you don't eat sugar. The boy in the back seat asked me after he was promoted to senior one, why don't you eat the candy distributed at the class meeting on New Year's Day every year? He's probably just curious. Girls should love candy.

I don't know how to answer him.

We have been backstage for four years, but we rarely talk. The most communication is to look at each other when passing on homework. I have been a silent person since I was a child. He may have grown up. Sometimes he sleeps in class, puts a textbook behind me, puts on a hat and hides in the back row. Before going to bed, he stroked my back with warm fingers. I looked back at him, but he looked away in panic and said to me, "I went to bed. I hit my desk with my chair."

I nodded.

It was not until the second year of high school that he told me that he had never fallen asleep. Every time he just waited in the back seat and watched the teacher give him a warning look, then I would pull the chair forward, then lean back heavily and bump into his desk.

"You are so stupid."

On the summer night of seventeen, he ran away from home and said to me in front of my window, you are so stupid. Whether it is true or not, you always do it wholeheartedly. Actually, I didn't even fall asleep. I just want to watch you. When your hair is tied up and the chair leans back, your hair will fly. If I hit hard enough, the tip of my hair can sweep my nose. It smells like dog tail grass.

You are so stupid.

Push like this every time. He suddenly stared at me and asked, or is your hair too long?

Nine years after my father left me, a runaway teenager knocked on my window. I opened my little world and saw him standing in front of me, who had been silent all the time. The hoodie and jeans haven't changed in five years. As always, as always.

What can I say? Because only you have asked me "why don't you eat sugar", because only you know that I don't eat sugar now, because only you think I should like sugar. Every time I look back at him, he covers his head with a hat and his face is buried in his arm, leaving only a pair of sad eyes.

But I met him occasionally on my way home, and he got into a fight with the gangsters in the street. The hat slipped from his head. The persistence in the eyes is fascinating. I didn't dare to make any noise until he beat those punks away, only to see what he was holding tightly in his hand-maybe he didn't want those people to rob me-and then I found out that it was the ballpoint pen I lent him.

Delicate blue ballpoint pen.

I lent it to him for a long time, so long that I forgot. He still has it in his hand.

I don't eat sugar because of rebirth.

What's the point of eating sugar?

Ghost boy also wears hoodies and jeans, warm fingers, slender white hands and open palms, in which sugar is in full bloom. It seems that he is sitting in the back seat. He asked me at my window why I didn't eat sugar. Girls should love sweetness. I don't know how to explain my silence. He stretched out his hand in front of me. Sugar, too.

My mother is watching TV in the living room, and men and women are arguing in the romantic drama. Contradictions, conflicts and conspiracies depend on the irreconcilable progress between people. She likes such plays. But she didn't know that I was facing sugar in the room, and the dull sweetness impacted my heart. My contradiction, my irreconcilable, my defects and dead teeth, another teenager who has nothing to do with my past looked at me quietly, and the noisy conversation in another room drowned the neon of the city.

He said, I'm leaving. Going? Hmm. He said little and looked at the bulging mountaineering bag behind him. It's boring. I want to get out of here. Do something. I'm not very good at reading, but there are always some I can. I bowed my head and gently echoed, oh. So he asked me, are you unhappy? I said, no. He said, you are stupid and careful. This is sugar. You can keep it.

If you don't feel well, it would be better to eat a candy. It is said that sugar can make people happy. Scientists have studied this. He said that and left my window. He insisted on putting the candy in my hand, and then pulled my stiff and hopeless fingers together one by one to wrap the candy in my palm.

"Maybe I'll come back for you later."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He turned away, refused to say anything, and then left my little, reborn world. Turn your back on the bustling world and suddenly think how sweet a candy can be.

That was the first candy I ate after I was born again. Very sweet, very sweet, so sweet that the teenager disappeared long ago, but suddenly tears fell out of the window.

It was already late at night when I came out of the cinema. Ghost said that the front door was in danger of being checked and took me away from another place. After many twists and turns, I pushed open the door and it was a small street behind the cinema. The garbage is on the side, but the neon lights are flashing overhead. Walking out of the side street, the alleys in front of you are interspersed everywhere. The crowd at the intersection is shouting, and emergency lights are hung on the stalls. The night is as cool as water. Oh, it's all white fog in one breath.

Ghost boy was exposed to neon lights at night.

His nose is very beautiful, and his eyes are always squinting warily, like a suspicious animal.

He asked me, where are you going?

I said, I don't know. The man I am waiting for won't come. So my time is blank.

So he asked me, are you afraid of drinking? I smiled. I'm not afraid of eating sugar, let alone drinking.

He ran away quickly and packed dinner and beer in this shop and that shop in the street. Fish balls, mala Tang, fried oysters, side dishes, what else do you need? He was carrying a messy bag of street snacks and then said to me, come with me.

I told him not to eat here?

He just smiled mysteriously.

I walked with him in the dark, accompanied by a teenager in a hoodie and jeans. He may be two or three years younger than me, like the back seat in memory, walking through the dark and humid alleys of the city. Neons can't shine on the road ahead. Nobody can. But his dull and sweet breath dragged me and took me flying in the lonely night. That sweetness, like intoxicating poison, keeps attacking the depths of the brain.

"Here we are."

He led me out of the huge building and climbed an abandoned building at the junction of downtown and barren land. There is a beach umbrella chair on the roof. An umbrella wing was torn. But still three quarters perfect. He led me to sit in a chair, set beer and snacks, and said that the door of this building had not been closed since the death of the uncle in charge of the building. This chair was found at the seaside.

The beer hissed.

I took all the sugar out of my coat pocket and spilled it all over the table.

He handed me a bottle and then raised the beer can: "cheers."

"cheers."

The smell of wheat is sweet with sugar, which makes people cry. 、

When I woke up, it was not fully bright, and I didn't wake up and sleep in the wind. I woke up as soon as the morning wind blew. Ghost sitting on the ground not far away, cell phone aside. There are sporadic lights flashing across the screen of the mobile phone. Looking around again, the light of the whole world went out. The noise has dissipated, and the darkness is gathering now.

I asked him, what are you doing? He said in a daze. I asked him where you lived. He said, home is far away. I just study in this city alone. I generally understand his twists and turns and why he is so free and easy.

So I sat side by side with him in the dark. The ground is wet and cold. The morning breeze blows in bursts. He suddenly put on his hat, like the distant teenager in his memory. I suddenly asked him, didn't you run away from home? He paused and shook his head reluctantly.

"Not exactly. Reading is also an end. "

He asked me why you came.

"Come and meet my lover."

He suddenly looked up, and how sharp his eyes hurt my eyes. But I dodged it tactfully and just patted him on the shoulder: "That's my candy. It is painful and sweet and cannot be refused. " So he naively asked me, why this person? Why be a lover?

Why?

I also want to know why.

Take a deep breath with him in the dark. Waiting for the morning light to dye the sky red. I remember having it with him, with Bobby Chen, and maybe with many people. Why? Why can't you refuse? Maybe I love candy too much. After the silent teenager in the back seat left, I began to eat candy. Try the sweetness carefully.

I am afraid that sweetness will hurt people, but it is so warm.

What the teenager left me was only the sweetness in the palm of his hand and the unfulfilled oath.

"Maybe I'll come back for you later."

-every time I eat sugar, I will think of this sentence, and it hurts faintly. In fact, it doesn't mean anything. But it seems to be a warm lamp. Like a light on a wing. I looked at it from a distance and made a wish for this imaginary meteor. Since my father left me, even if I learned to stand on my own feet, there will always be times when I can't control myself.

I still, can only eat sugar.

Sugar is like a spell, easing everything for me. So when I left as a teenager, I would eat candy when I panicked. In the college entrance examination, I secretly hid sugar under my tongue and silently let saliva dissolve this sweetness and pour it into my throat. Then I stay up reading, others drink bitter coffee and I eat sugar. Sweet to the end, it is a pain in the roots. But you must eat.

This is my only certificate.

About the pain of the past and the future that I have been waiting for.

When the pain comes to an end, it is often Bobby Chen who drives me to the dentist in the middle of the night. A drowsy injection of painkillers. His sugar-peeling fingers caught my cold fingertips. I said with tears, I want to eat sugar, I want to eat sugar. And he suddenly exposed me, he said, you don't love sugar, you have to rely on it. He held me in his arms and patted me on the back like a kind father. You want someone to lean on.

I just want to rely on it.

But I have no one to rely on.

I didn't see through myself. The first person who saw through me was Bobby Chen. Why is he the first? He has a wife and children and a world of his own, but he can still see through other people's worlds. If someone sees my candy paper all over the table, will he see through me, too? But fate is a reality that has happened.

Suppose I can't dispel the evil in my heart.

So I still eat sugar. I can't help eating. If I am willing to rely on it, it seems that I am the real sin. However, I think I just love sugar. Lust for sweetness is not a crime, but stealing a husband is a crime. So I still eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat until I die. I was young, but my teeth were completely necrotic.

Eat until there is no future.

Ghost suddenly reached out and grabbed my hand. He called me names, you are so stupid.

Three words, how similar the pronunciation and intonation are to the person in memory. You look so serious.

But how should I respond? I avoided his hug in the darkness of dawn and told him that I was stupid, but you were not the first person to see through me. Neither are you.

The teenager grabbed me rudely, held my hand firmly in the dark, and his knuckles approached each other, just like a gesture of love. He said, what does it matter if I'm not the first one? Will it be again? Isn't that enough? Isn't it enough for you to leave him and rely on you completely?

My tears kept falling. Infiltrate the roof.

A circle. Two circles.

Okay, that's enough.

But is that enough?

At dawn, I sat in the silent building with the teenager. He began to tell me about him. Every word is sincere, with a sour past It seems that he really wants to share his future with me. But I just long for the warmth at this moment. I listened to his stories and watched him play mobile games. The old black and white Nokia and Chen Sheng are really different.

He was so happy as a child that he even showed me Nokia's only game. I saw him explain the rules of the game to me. The flashing light spot on the screen can be understood as sugar. When there are more speed and obstacles, you will get more points for every candy you swallow. But every time you swallow a candy, your body will grow longer.

The person who scores more points wins.

I've been watching him play games, watching the little snake eat until the end, and his body is all over the small screen. Head and tail, in a narrow space, in order to plunder more wantonly, straighten up, avoid, bypass and leave, are just avoiding the past they swallowed up. And these can only devour more.

This is actually an infinite loop.

The name of this game is snake.

At dawn, his games came to a deadlock one after another. Or die of greed, or die of hitting the huge body created by greed. The teenager quit the game and dragged me to stand in front of the dim light. Sunlight penetrated the clouds and awakened the city in the dark. The sound of people coming downstairs, creaking and gurgling, reminds us that the world has awakened. I only remember that his fingers were warm. He can peel sugar.

He left me his phone number, a long list of attractive spells. He said to take me back to the hotel and tell me to call him when I have a good rest. He said he would wait for me.

I smiled deliberately and scolded him for being my sister. You are still young.

He greeted me, grabbed my wrist with one hand, and then leaned down to kiss my face.

Intoxicating candy.

Bitter candy.

Just like the candy hanging in front of me, I keep swallowing it.

I know that one day, my head may touch my tail. Greed is so morbid, not unconsciously sinking, but knowingly committing a crime willingly. I shared the remaining sugar with teenagers in the morning light. All kinds of tastes and styles. Swiss candy, fruit hard candy, cotton candy. I began to think, what is Bobby Chen like? Hard candy of fruit. Cold and hard sweetness always leaves more flavor in your mouth than others. Soft candy is better than chewing, and Swiss candy is smooth and sweet.

I eat a lot of sugar, but I don't have any. All kinds have various fragrances, and the sweetness enters the nose from the throat, which is intoxicating.

Is that enough?

I don't know. I just long for sweetness. Bobby Chen knows everything about me, and only he can see through me. After every brief quarrel, he sends a message of comfort. Sweet words came into my eyes with Qianshan, and the temperature of his fingertips flooded into my mind. If sugar is my weakness, eating sweet represents hope and happiness, and loving sugar represents extravagant hope and dependence, then my weakness may not be sugar, but more and more. These "more" made me see Bobby Chen's short messages in the morning light, but I couldn't let go of the teenager's hand. I quietly replied to Bobby Chen's short message, with a sweet gesture, but I hid my hand in the palm of the teenager's hand and didn't want to let go.

Distant warmth, and the warmth close at hand.

Everything is sweet.

And I can't help it, because I am weak, because I expect it, because I lost that part of my emotion when I was young. Once someone is willing to make up for it, I can't accept it moderately.

Like Chen Sheng.

Like a ghost boy.

There is also the hug and warmth of every encounter that they don't even know.

I can't refuse.

Like a snake. And greed is a sin, and you are willing to take risks, even though you know it is only for one day's greed.