Le Xiaomi youth sadomasochism collection

Chapter 2 Liang Sheng, can we not be sad (2)
Preface: Thank you for these six years, I have experienced so many ups and downs, it doesn't matter if you break out of your cocoon and become a butterfly or a moth... (2)
I started writing because I like it.I like the joy and sorrow expressed in words, I like the various aesthetic feelings of words, and gradually, I like the praise you give brought by words...

I remember when I first wrote the story "Liang Sheng 1", I never considered what method, rhetoric, or technique I should use to please my readers. It was just that in my mind, there was such a facial expression like The boy in the painting is as calm as water and as quiet as a lotus.

He looked at me and the world in the silent time and space, so, like a stare at each other, in my instinctive imagination, there was this story.

And it just so happens that the story I like, the boy I like, is also loved and liked by you.

This kind of beauty is no less than the love between men and women.

Later, gradually, because I cared about the feelings of the readers, I became cautious and wrote very few short stories, and the same is true for long stories. I just hope that what I write will be liked by my readers.

Yes, in my mind, the group of readers who saved their breakfast money to buy my books and magazines with my words touched me deeply.In this way, writing has gradually turned from a simple liking to a kind of pressure, hoping to please more readers.

This is a harmless responsibility, but once you become persistent, people will lose the simple pleasure of writing when they first liked to write, and they will always worry about gains and losses—when they see criticism and dislike, people become cautious and silent, more What is sad.I don't know if all authors have experienced this mental journey.

It's not how I like to be, and it's not how I like myself.

This feeling was especially evident when writing "Liang Sheng 2".I seem to be walking a tightrope, carefully hoping to maintain the beauty of this story, but knowing that it is difficult to satisfy everyone's aesthetics. This feeling was a torment for myself five years ago.

Later, many readers read "Liang Sheng 2" before reading "Liang Sheng 1", and then they said that "Liang Sheng 1" was not as good as "Liang Sheng 2", which is different from some old readers of "Liang Sheng 1". Opinions are at odds... That's when I realized that many preferences stem from people's habitual preconceived ideas.

The harder you work and the more you care about things, the easier it is to go to extremes.

If writing is no longer a joy, why continue?

This is one of the reasons why I stopped for three years.

Yes, if writing is no longer my favorite thing, if it makes me unhappy, if it makes me cautious, if it makes me walk on eggshells, why should I continue?

For the so-called royalties?

For the so-called fame?

These don't seem to be that important to Aquarius.For me, as a girl, she has no worries about food and clothing, expenses, and happiness seems to be more important.

In this way, with a knot in my heart, of course, there are other reasons, such as illness—whether it is psychological or physical... Comprehensive, I stopped writing and concentrated on living the peaceful life I wanted.

During those days, with the friends around you, no one cared that you were an author, and you were liked or sought after by many people.You are just a friend around them, you can cook, you are too greedy, you are narrow-minded, you are obsessed with looking at handsome guys, you are a little short-tempered, you can turn your face faster than you can turn a book, you belong to the flashlight - always according to other people's shortcomings Don't look at my shortcomings, I'm still a bit of a money fan...

But it doesn't matter, I don't like you because of your beauty - this is a friend.

Sometimes, people are always greedy, and I once hoped so much that such an ugly self could be accepted by you—for example, one day I wrote a story that I couldn’t even read, and then I forced myself into it in the QQ group. Let me tell you, wow, Mr. Mi, you are so beautiful, you are simply possessed by Wenquxing.

Then, in reality, you covered your mouths and kept retching, wishing to spit out all the food from last night, and then cursed in your heart-Le Snail, you bad guy who cheats money with code words!
I really am a narcissist...

In fact, no matter when I left or spent time in this circle, there is one thing that I am very grateful for—that is, I met you once, we talked and chatted so freely on QQ and post bars, and you once gave I have received so much support and encouragement.

I love that time, the time when I met you.

journey
I used to think that this period of departure would be indefinite.

I used to think that I would never write a story again, although in those times, there were always countless faces flashing in my mind, so many inspirations flooded in, I wanted to write them down, but unfortunately Yes, but I don't want to see the words I wrote again.

In those days, I didn't surf the Internet, and I didn't read the books I had written. I tried to forget that I was a girl who loved writing.

It's just that when I look at my hands occasionally, I feel inexplicably lost.

Because, I used it to "play" my favorite notes and chapters in front of the computer like playing a piano.

This statement is hypocritical enough, literary enough!
Therefore, the country is easy to change, but the nature is hard to change.Even if I am no longer in the literary circle, I can still write about literature and art occasionally.

Until the spring of that year, after I "disappeared" for a long time, Ruoruo and Du Du almost fell from the sky to Qingdao and appeared by my side without warning.

I seemed to wake up from a self-serving dream.

Hugs and tears are never missing between friends who have been reunited for a long time.

In fact, those days when I disappeared, I disappeared with book contracts with the two companies—that’s why you waited so long for "Qingcheng II", "Liangsheng 3" and "Phoenix Tour on Phoenix Terrace" s reason.

Now that I think about this matter, in addition to lamenting the tolerance and support of the two companies, I will also lament myself, how lonely and courageous I am, who is so money-obsessed, even my beloved, my favorite, my dear I don't want all my money anymore, and I gave up writing without any sense of responsibility.

Of course, from this perspective, it is conceivable that when I decided to leave, I was really full of satisfaction—if I continued at the beginning, according to my physical and mental health, it is estimated that at this moment three years later, what you have been waiting for Not my return, but my way to heaven.

Well, no kidding, in fact, writing a preface is a serious matter, I always like to make serious things so unscrupulous, I am sorry.

Then wait two years, when I have a stable mind, and when the collector's edition is released, I will write a stable and elegant preface, and give it to you, and to myself.

The arrival of Ruoruo and Dudu that year made my heart gradually ripple.

very light.

I know they are waiting for my return.

So I started thinking, can I still write?Can you still write?Do you still like to write?
Yes, the most important thing is - do I still like to write?

The answer is yes.

I like writing. This is my hobby and my specialty. In addition, I can also cook. I can open a private restaurant.

But even though the answer is so straightforward, I still hesitate - because I haven't woken up from this dream, I still love the real life in reality, the laughter is real, the language is real, The pain is real, the hate is real, everything is real.

I have been obsessed with this thought for half a year.

It was not until seven months later that a child named Sheng appeared in front of me—at that moment, my world was truly touched!

She is my reader.

She is one of you.

She started reading my stories when she was 17, and when she was 21, she found me.

I thought she would say, you dead snail, my "Liangsheng 3", my "Qingcheng II", and my "Phoenix Tour on Phoenix Terrace" are all dead!
So I gave her a hug, and I said, I'm sorry to disappoint you.

What she told me was that those are not important, the important thing is to see you are fine.

In those few days, she was by my side all the time, as quiet as a cat, not at all like we were mean and mean to each other on the Internet.

She said, Xiaomi, if you don’t like writing, then don’t write.

That doesn't really matter, she said.

Her arrival let me know one thing, that is, some people may be waiting for the end of your story, while some people are waiting for your news.

I looked at her, as if I saw those times many years ago - although she was not my first reader, she was also an "old reader" of mine.

From them, I seem to see the trajectory of my own growth.

When I first started writing, it was just because I liked writing—at that time, I didn’t know that writing would bring me applause, support, encouragement, and...

All I know is that I like to write.In high school, others were listening to the lectures, but I wrote other people's stories and sorrows and joys in the composition text. These original stories are still preserved in many thick notebooks.A lazy person like me can fill so many thick notebooks; a hyperactive person like me can sit in front of the computer for more than ten hours just to write a story.

……

In 2011, I think I finally saw myself clearly.

Because of a certain Sheng.

Also because of the group of people behind a certain Sheng.

Because someone is waiting, I will have the courage to move forward.

In 2012, I started a new journey in my life.

Letting go of the happiness and burden you gave me, I just want to write like I did when I first wrote: write the story I want to write, and it just so happens that you like it too.

Of course, you don't have to like it.

However, I must let myself like it.

Because it is my hobby.

I still have the extravagant hope that each story will be liked by you, but I no longer obsessed with this extravagant expectation, just like my private restaurant, it is impossible for everyone to think that I am the best chef.

Thank you for these six years. After so many ups and downs, it doesn't matter whether you break out of your cocoon and become a butterfly or a moth out of your cocoon.

The important thing is that they all have the moment when they break out of their cocoons and fly.

I know that one day, I will grow old, and the title of Chicken Wing Girl will no longer belong to me.However, how hypocritically I hope that in the time that belongs to me and you, I will always be your chicken wing girl.

Like many, many years ago, when I first started writing.

01 Liang Sheng, just met on such a narrow road.

When I was 13, I suddenly developed a very bad habit.

I am used to opening my eyes in the middle of the night, dilating my pupils as much as possible, trying to see the ceiling covered with newspapers, but in this dark night, everything is in vain.

The night just covered my body solemnly, and I shrunk under the quilt, a small ball.I thought, why can't I find the quiet beauty of the night like water in other people's novels at all?I could only hear my father's coughing in the middle of the night, my mother's soft sighs, and Liang Sheng's even breathing when he was sleeping soundly.

I have seen Liang Sheng when he is sleeping. He likes to turn his body sideways, his small head is buried on the pillow, his long eyelashes rest on his closed eyes like two sleeping swans, and his slightly thin nostrils follow his breathing lightly. Shaking lightly, the white skin is slightly powdery.This kind of soft pink skin is very rare in the children of Weijiaping, so, in my young consciousness, Liang Sheng is different from me, and from the whole Weijiaping children.

I like to poke the newborn tender grass tips into his ears when he is taking a nap, and watch him wake up from the tickle, so I keep my body small and hide beside his bed, meowing like our little kitten A few times.Liang Sheng didn't even open his eyes, so he could guess it was me, and he said vaguely, Jiang Sheng, stop making trouble and go to sleep.

His name is Liang Sheng, and my name is Jiang Sheng.

Before the age of four, he had nothing to do with my life.

When I was four years old, on a beautiful afternoon when the sun was shining on half of the hillside, my mother with a tired face brought a handsome little boy who could only be seen on TV to me, and said, Jiang Sheng, this is Liang Sheng, You will call him brother from now on.

Four years old, still an age with vague memories, I only see mud, grass, and dog's tail flowers. I don't know what natural disasters and man-made disasters are, and I don't know what happened to Weijiaping in those days 48 miners and two journalists were killed in the mine disaster.In my eyes, the sky in Weijiaping is still so blue, and the water is still so clear.So when my mother brought Liang Sheng in front of me, I called him brother Liang Sheng with a crisp childish voice, and made an ugly face at him behind my mother's back.

It may be that the grimace I made was too ugly, so I scared the pretty Liang Sheng to tears.

When Liang Sheng cried, he covered his face with his arms and tried his best to hold back his breath.Weijiaping's children were not as gentle as he was when they cried. They all opened their mouths wide open, crying hysterically.My affection for Liang Sheng began when he cried so politely.

When Liang Sheng first came here, he liked to cry very much. Every night, I could hear him sobbing intermittently.

I just hugged the pillow and leaned against his pillow, staring at him crying in the dark night.The night was dark, and I could only see his tiny shoulders twitching and his little head shaking non-stop.

I said, Liang Sheng, if you are afraid of the dark, then Jiang Sheng will sleep with you.

He didn't seem to have much affection for me, sobbing and protesting, who is afraid of the dark?
I just stood there in a daze and watched Liang Sheng cry.

He turned around, his eyes were red, and he said, what's so interesting?
I curled my lips, crawled back into bed like a small fish, and got close to my mother. I said, Mom, don’t people in the city feel happier crying than eating candy?

Happiness was the first word I learned, but my mother didn't praise me for it. She covered me with a quilt and said, Jiang Sheng, remember, Liang Sheng is your brother!Not some city folk!Don't talk nonsense in the future, you must remember that Liang Sheng is your brother!

As if a sacred destiny is hard to break, when I was four years old, I met Liang Sheng, a six-year-old Liang Sheng, on a narrow road.I can't and I don't know to ask, why did this boy named Liang Sheng come to our house suddenly?
(End of this chapter)