Petty bourgeoisie among the people

For a long time, people have been talking about capital. It seems that there is an inevitable connection between petty bourgeoisie and money. Anyone who is petty bourgeoisie must have money, and if there is no money, there is no petty bourgeoisie. You see, if you go to a cafe to drink coffee, a bottle costs tens or even hundreds of yuan; if you go to a bar to drink red wine, a bottle costs hundreds or even thousands of yuan. The whole society is a subway bound for the petty bourgeoisie. While women are rushing towards petty bourgeoisie, men are also charging towards petty bourgeoisie. Who is to blame?

I learned from a magazine that the petty bourgeoisie liked Haruki Murakami, so I bought a copy and put it on my bedside. However, it couldn’t match the intuitive feeling that "Dream of Red Mansions" brought to me. The book has not been touched yet. It is said that to be a petty bourgeoisie, you need to know Mozart, Chopin, Lao Chai, etc., and even though I brought back a bunch of CDs, I still didn’t feel as sad as A Bing’s Erquan Yingyue. I heard that every petty bourgeoisie must have one or two pieces of branded fashion, so I bought a piece of fur, which was very valuable. But when I put it on, it felt awkward. I was afraid of getting scuffed, getting wet in the rain, and losing hair. I was often criticized by my son. : Mom, you said you love small animals, but you just said it casually and wrote it casually. After much fiddling, I finally stuffed it into the closet.

One day my son was rummaging through the refrigerator for food and picked out a yellowed and spoiled cucumber. He said like an adult, "Mom, everything has a shelf life. Don't wrap it in a layer of plastic wrap and throw it away." It'll be fine in the refrigerator, and I'm telling you, plastic wrap will also expire. I was surprised for a while, but then I sat down and thought about it carefully, and I realized: It turns out that everything in this world has an expiration date.

Such as life. It is actually a product with a shelf life. From childhood, youth, middle age to old age, its shelf life is more than 30,000 days (excluding accidents, illness and other reasons). No one can escape it. When it is close to its shelf life, it will slowly grow old like a flower withering. One day, when it expires, it will disappear and become a pile of dust.

For example, love. When fresh, it is rich in vitamins and makes us look radiant. But when it becomes corrupt, it carries germs that will destroy us inside and out. What’s even scarier is that we don’t know when to pack it up and throw it in the trash.

For example, petty bourgeoisie. It also has a shelf life. Because we cannot guarantee that everything will be smooth sailing in this life, and that we will have money to spend as we please. It is also possible that when we are roaming on the road, we will make our shoes and hats our home the whole way. At that time, how to live a spiritually complete "person" in a cramped space is crucial.

Look at "Dream of Red Mansions". It's snowing heavily, the glazed world is white with snow and red plum blossoms. The young master and the young lady go to enjoy the snow. It's so petty bourgeoisie. There were about ten people, in the overwhelming snow, wearing the same color orangutan felt and feather satin cloaks, and the paintings were not so exquisite. Daiyu put on her gold-coloured red fragrant sheepskin boots, covered herself with a red-feathered gauze-covered white fox crane cloak, tied with a lapis lazuli and green double-ringed four-in-one ruyi sash, and covered her head with a snow cap. She was truly an unparalleled figure. beauty. Wherever Sister Feng goes, she always shines with golden light. However, it is useless no matter how beautiful the scenery is, it is useless no matter how outstanding the characters are, and it is useless no matter how gentle and gorgeous the colors are. In the end, it is not the flowers that have faded their remaining red and their lives have been blown away by the cool breeze, but the most trembling thing is the unintentional chant of Baoyu. Compare the couplet: In the red gauze tent, I have no chance, but in the loess ridge, how can you be so unlucky? How come the red gauze tent and the loess ridge become the beginning and the end? The contrast is unbearable. Grandma Liu still lived a real and comfortable life. With the autumn wind blowing in and her own diligence and frugality, she could live happily in the countryside no matter what. Paper windows and wooden couches, hibiscus bamboo fences, short walls covered with rice stalks, geese, chickens and ducks, watching cats and dogs fight, and teasing little boarders, can you say that this kind of life is not bourgeois?

The house is in a human environment, without the noise of carriages and horses.

How can you do this? The mind is far away from itself.

Picking chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, you can leisurely see Nanshan Mountain.

The mountain air is getting better day by day, and the birds are flying back and forth.

There is a true meaning in this, but I have forgotten to explain it.

Looking at people like Tao Gong, he is not like other hermits who claim to be transcended from the world, but "makes a house in the human environment"; being in the "human environment", he can achieve "no noise of cars and horses", not Tainted with worldly things. Someone asked him how he could do this, and Tao Gong said meaningfully, "The heart is far away and the ground is biased." By this time, all the hustle and bustle of the world is around you, but your ears have long been separated from the traffic and people coming and going. At dusk, the poet walked slowly under the east fence, picked a bunch of fragrant yellow chrysanthemums, raised his head inadvertently, and Nanshan Mountain appeared naturally in front of his eyes. The scenery in the mountains is so beautiful that there is no difference between morning and dusk.

Looking up at the sky, birds flying in groups fly over the mountains and fly into the distance. No wonder even the poet himself said that I have received a lot of inspiration from nature and understood the true meaning of life, but I feel that I cannot express it in words. Of course, there is no need to express it in words. From "desire to argue" to "forgetting to speak", this should be the highest state of petty bourgeoisie!

For example, Su Shi was demoted and relegated to Lingnan. Someone asked him how he felt. He wrote a poem: "I wonder if Lingnan is not good, but I say that this place of peace of mind is my hometown." This place of peace of mind is my hometown. , a tacit understanding of body and mind, the distant and profound connotation of petty bourgeoisie emerges spontaneously. Only when you stand outside the fence can you be qualified to say petty bourgeoisie.

Looking at the mountains and drinking wine, you miss me. Listening to the drums and leaving the city, I visit you.

The waxy snow has added to the wall and poured into the water, and the fasting bell has not dispersed the clouds in front of the threshold.

As the clouds move, the bamboos and cypresses are thicker and lighter, and the songs of fishermen and woodcutters are intermittent.

It is also planned to buy a tobacco house in the south of the village, and the descendants will work together to cultivate it.

Look at this poem, it’s so bourgeois that it makes you a little jealous. We don’t know what the relationship between the poet and his friend was, but he actually planned the future together and wanted to buy a piece of land in the south of the village. Not only would they be friends, but their descendants would also be friends and work together. Think about it, two old men with gray beards, smoking pipes and pots, with their coarse cloth coats open and their trouser legs rolled up, sitting on their mats, talking about cabbage, wheat and potatoes. Pointing here and there, talking short and long, before I knew it, the sun had gone down, the cows were lowing, and the whips were crackling. The sons of the two families came back from the fields, and the daughter-in-law put down the small dining table and served brown rice. Rice, vegetable soup, sorghum cakes, pickles, one family, no, two families, you greet me, I greet you, the children and grandchildren are running around the dining table, one falls, the other helps him up and pats him earth. What a beautiful scenery it is, what a beautiful mood it is, and how precious it is to have no worries. Except for heaven and earth, you and I, no one knows that there are two such extraordinary masters among the people. Look at people, how pure the petty bourgeoisie is.

Withered vines, old trees and dim crows, small bridges and flowing water. The ancient road has a westerly wind and a thin horse. Look, the real petty bourgeoisie is definitely not the lingering rain in the city, the cold curtains, nor the slender stalks of lotus flowers by the river under the moon, nor the red leaves all over the mountains and plains where tourists are weaving. The real petty bourgeoisie is in this neglected folk, wild, rough, dark, natural, desolate and real. I felt a little dizzy for a moment, not knowing where I was or who I was. But what does this have to do with me? I just hope that one day, my wish will be fulfilled, and I will have no regrets. I can go to such a quiet and quiet village, rent a clean courtyard, knock ice to cook tea, sweep snow and entertain guests. When there is no one around, I sing and scream, lying stiffly in the deserted village in a quiet place, listening to the wind and rain during the Qingming Festival, sleeping among the weeds and flowers, this life is not wasted, and it is considered a bourgeoisie for us.

Just like me tonight, I have nothing to do and nothing to do. There is a plate of Shanghai greens, a plate of pickles, and a plate of vegetable and meat dumplings on the table. The mother and son eat it one bite at a time. And my pet dog was gnawing at the meat bones under the table. This day, hey!