I squeezed in the sultry noisy car, staring out the back of the scenery along the way. Or, the dwarf old gray brick and tile bungalow no right at all to be called the landscape. Corrosion is just waiting to be in the lonely time. The people in the bus is always bustling, just put the phone out of the school pants pocket all difficulties like rescue and relief.
A message, from a buddy, half-baked. Accurately, a few years ago we still sitting in the same classroom struggling sweaty. He to go to the city, I lived in a second school I was barely a mediocre life.
So good, because as early as can a frivolous years of fantasy, I run counter to the dream.
I knocked back to the message, the heart of shame because of some reason the pain. Test the send me to the second school. Damn straight I do. Used to think their own choices can be natural and unrestrained waved and said don't care, now no relief. This uniform is like criminals face mark. Stay clear of shame. Each time I see ChongDianJiao students proud head bent back, pointing to us. Although say my so-called, the in the mind still very sharp pain. Regret like waves slapped his weak nerves.
Because, I was once regarded as favored child.
But the massive books I turn now, also don't want to turn. In this way, carrying my chaotic thoughts in walking in the water of life.
I heavily down on the bed, repose, scenes has resurfaced in sight.
My dream is deeply rooted in my heart, once gave him. Mother no soft hands on my shelf drawing precious books torn off the moment, it from now on. Let I tore heart crack lung of cry, also can't touch a spark.
Since then, I have a problem with my heart. Torn apart. Still cannot heal. Also don't know what to take fill it.
Still remember the face of block mess I quarrel with my mother of hysteria. Steal to buy pigments were discovered, stepfather ruthlessly dumped two slap, know feel a burst of dizziness, very dark.
I am infatuated love of painting. Know the importance of literacy class, day after day doing the exercises of those who make me nervous. I am not a hard-working child, is not among the highest in the class but also maintained medium grade from beginning to end. Since his parents divorced, home life strapped up sharply. Mother persuaded me to give up painting, to single-minded in culture class, grow up to have a decent job. Of course, she also know that this is a small wholeheartedly for stubborn child aspires to be a painter in vain.
About her stepfather, I don't like it at all, he had no scruples of bullying at home. Abruptly deprived of many of the paintings. Once, he somehow send father to my import pigment out of the window go out, I tried to run out. Pigments are all scattered on the muddy ground after the rain, only with a beautiful shell out of the letters of the circle on the downstairs festoon the tottering. Heavy fall, but my heart is like a temple bells a dismal low echo. I was careful to not like paint tube home, fall off a man cry very dark.
To fill volunteer that day is coming. Sure enough, they stop me enter oneself for an examination of the affiliated high school of fine arts, refused to provide me with everything on the painting cost. Mother in front of her stepfather also showed the appearance of the passive, always softly said, at that time if you don't let him learn to draw.
The dark cloud in the sky crawled over and dark, until my breath away. I'm not strong and attempted to resist.
I had to kowtowing to them.
Close examination of the day, I dragged my empty body wandering at the edge of the dream broken for a long time can't own. Until finally become insensitive. Sitting in the classroom, like in the teahouse, stretching his legs idly watching a group of people on the table away. The teacher won't waste time to clean up our early. I want people and those who had been high vocational technical school students as idle about.
I clearly remember the afternoon, I decided to give up the struggle spiritless students in the classroom was coming examination sense of urgency and drove all sit, meticulous. Recess, a girl with a pleading tone say:
"Can I change seats with you? Behind is too messy, unable to focus."
I think this girl is. I just determined to gather together into the dross heap, she gave me a wonderful geographical location. Who let me passion, readily agreed.
Hopeless is the back of the classroom to take an examination of high school students. Hornets. The teacher had to helplessly the unbridled endured their class. I rarely associate with them. That afternoon, I summon up courage, on the back of the big guy said:
"Hey, buddy, give ribs smoke."
The sound is modest, right hear all the people in the back. All looked at me dumbfounded. And so I joined their night's team. Have to admit that the junior high school career is my 17 years 80 days from the end of the most comfortable days in the life. Who CARES about the future is how difficult and painful.
The initial degradation is really scares me, as if falling from the sky of weightlessness flustered. Stepfather mother's face appeared frequently in front of my eyes. Yes, in painting, the future is bleak.
The teacher in charge of teaching physics is old man, he very few gray hair and hoarse voice against the solar terms, with just the right amount of the summer solstice is not to his kindness. He is urging the in-law called me to the office of the once. The desperate act are anathema to me at first, until he saw me at the school gate at a time. I was hug a vague kissed the girl next door class. Then turn a blind eye to me, I don't think of guilt to right now.
And stepfather live in our house there is a third grade's sister, scarcely more lovely obedient, have been learning the pipa in art school. But the thought of his father that he lived and let people hate. Stepfather, let me give her topic, on the table in the kua his clever daughter. Predict she'll become artists, big money, Lao tze honor her.
How dreadful, you heartless let me dream buried for her.
Home all day and night is a cheap the smell of tobacco. Stepfather always sit sofa in the middle of the narrow her eyes filthy racket TV series. Once, I asked whether sister hates to stay quietly in the environment of cigar smoke, tried to let her to persuade her stepfather out smoke. She just told me that habit.
I helplessly sigh, she frowned and ran away. I miss home increasingly lavender lavender spied. That is because the taste of soft, warm melt, scattered. Now with the nasal besides the rich Moscow smoke flavor, is a small restaurant downstairs frying. How I've never found?
I look at the clothes on the balcony that day mother, about half a day are you talking with her. Hesitated for a long time, finally asked:
"Do you really love him? The man who sit in the living room boss."
Her mother's hand a quiver. And slowly to continue his work. I grabbed her hand wet clothes. Have found a few white silk and impurity in the hair. In the parent-teacher conference, before she tan curly hair and fair skin can always let me in children have face very much. She is a beautiful mother.
"Children, do not paint can also live, your dad to the home has squandered much. For your stepfather, like it or not you have to accept." Her tone, no doubt, don't give me any choice.
Mother came into the room, only I am standing on the balcony, watching the twilight city mixture was the night in a little bit. Also accompany me in the night breeze hang niket - white T-shirt. His cold, hurt my finger. I helpless stand, like a statue of weathering of rocks. No heartbeat. That's stepfather sent me. One handed me the label in the obvious place.
I don't like everything about him
In the days that I had free and unfettered ease, I use all of their spare time chasing girls.
In my wanderings these days, I like a girl with all the time.
For not admitted to the art with the things I have been to heart. Every time I pass by the dream of the campus just can't help but feel dejected. Every Friday night, I will be standing under the beauty of art with the locust tree at the pillars of the engraved a flowing inside daubed all trance. Perhaps I in vain to pursue a kind of spiritual comfort. Only a few in with strong artistic breath uniform students in and out.
This is how she broke into my line of sight. Carry the picture box, with a calm face lightly brushed past with me. Don't know at this moment my heart is narrow chest beating madly. Can't help but shy under her head. She seems to ignore my existence.
She walked out of my face, my eyes staring at her gray canvas shoes, and then watched until her back was neon makes fuzzy.
Seeing her again was two months later. Banyan tree is still in the tree, but it has already been winter exploitation, the way to the naked torso. I stopped her, she looked back. Frowned asked, why?
There is, can meet?
I know you.
We know each other?
Can see you came to our school every week, familiar, are you waiting for someone?
Waiting for you. Do you want a cigarette, strawberry flavor.
Is the beginning of the legend, is the end of the flat. Clean from beginning to end will be transparent.
Her eye-popping with excellent academic performance. Often for my topic and complained about this campus. And I poured out of broken families to her displeasure. Occasionally about fun playing among boys.
She said, you are a fool, discontent with family punish oneself. Whether the future will be engaged in what can be dazzling bright.
Don't know there's something in the subtle relation between us, I gloat over that help man I have a beautiful girlfriend, meet my vanity.
Not across the boundaries of the good friends. Only in one can unbridled looked up at the sky in the afternoon, sitting side by side a conversation. Look at her sun tan hair restless swaying in the wind, smiling calmly. Shy is my instead, his head under the brim, swinging half a transparent bottle of coke, there has no bubbles can be boiled. Can you leave telephone for me?
Metal accesories and key crisp impact is long with the day I get along with her.
If I were a girl, that we are inseparable bestfriend. If she is a boy, that we can talk to each other is the iron man. The fact is, or there are so many if we choose.
Who can tell me how long we haven't contacted.
The last time the two saw each other, she gave me a hand painted oil painting; Is the wind blows over the summer. Very good name, may be because she has a special liking for that song. On only one boy, with a cap, his trousers rolled up, with half a bottle of coke staggers. Under the background of warm color tone he look up at the clouds. The clouds weird shapes and colors. As if he leaping gently only, the clouds was within reach.
Is abundant of summer, and I in that tree banyan tree is no longer wait for her. And I want to give her collection of paintings had to be. Look at the horizon in the evening alone by the remnants of a faint light interweave, trance, as if erase memory.
This is the wind blowing through the summer, I met a meteor. When the sunrise, climb up from the bed again. I completely forgot her, but in the bottom of my heart left a deep mark, remember she behind the painting comely words; Forget the past, from now on, just for himself.
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