Have you seen that would rather fill in?
I am looking at the registration form in the hand, do I say that it is be you to fill in?
She laugh suddenlied, that smile included too much stubborn emotions and limitless despair, she says cello would rather fill in, it would rather be me to fill in, I am cello.
Then how about morning tree?
Fill in, would rather stretch out hand think holding something, but anything can not be caught, that appeared in front of her is just a slice of nihility.
She says that is the man who I love, been just lost by me, I have lost my man, oh, he is sure to come here.
What I have begun to recall oneself and done at 15 years old: Study in a key class of the key high school of first-class city, every day can be gasped for breath by the strenuous exercise, hold a pile of travel magazines and sit under the shade, see that printing exquisite travel magazine that cost an arm and a leg in only redeeming, having comforted every picture with scenes with the finger, I should tell oneself, my root is not here, so I am always hurt by the unknown thoughts and feelings. Kindness is refined says, everybody has a root, grow under the foot, touch it gently, there is tiny pain.
Many years later, I know my root burns in the front yard, I got back to here at last.
Just one calls the girl 15 years old of cello or would rather fill ining, hereafter sit at the gate where the flower was in bloom at that time all day, the petal of Fructus Gardeniae falls scattered on her shoulder, have no flaw purely.
She asks everyone whether everyone see one call the boy of the tree in the morning, after being denied and answered, she says repeating, the morning tree, I love you, so should find very much.
Do you love me?
Love.
Do you like would rather fill ining?
Love.
Do both ones love?
Eh.
Is not there weight?
Eh.
Will love me for arriving to die?
Know.
Will love her for arriving to die?
Know.
How many lives do you have?
One.
Then how do you like getting and dying two women?
You say you will die together.
Eh, yes.
Do I love you?
Love.
Fill in and love you peacefully?
Love.
C your mother, would rather only love me to fill in, since born, the love reaches it, the love is reached, the love gets until the seas dry up and the rocks decay, the love gets to have heaven falling and the earth cracking, like getting and dying too.
A. First mail that would rather fill in
It would rather be eight days before I am 15th birthday to know and fill in, she sends mails to me.
She says she would rather fill in. Can go to other southern cities on very far way in July, see some people and some skies, write down the trace missed.
I will be in Shanghai in July, that material city, that is collected and loved multifariously in the city of one suit, that city of luxury and dissipation, that flourishing and desolate city.
This is my impression on Shanghai, is just five words, I say my root is in Shanghai, the life in Beijing is just a false appearance in 14, I will get back to that city that I have a sentimental attachment for in bone marrow and blood.
I love the sea, like getting and dying too. I will take a lot of things, Shanghai, the cello away when die, dawn and night, the characters comforting each other, the sound of Wang Fei's empty fairy, persistant soul, have taken a taxi on several IP cards, the morning tree - -My man.
Know oneself omit, would rather fill in at that time, those one she loved me, I loved her later, like arriving the woman dying each other.
I continue, watch, optical drive of me indicator lamp glimmer ceaselessly, pirate one of half a year still rotate crazily, it is lonely to come to engulf. It does not represent music that it is rotated that crazy to go to extremes too, broken, repeated, I do not know what is Pinker, what is Floyd, what is the heavy metal, I only know the samsara, zero point, Dou Wei, He Yong, but I seldom hear, because is too noisy. I attempt, quiet down, then I listen to " anaesthetize " of Fei Wang, " suddenly " Mo Wenwei, Xu Meijing " to belong to people night ", YanZi Sun " whether it dark ", countless to listen to everywhere, hear that wants to make a noise, want to cry, want to vomit, think quietly, can very each section of lyrics clearly remember, have not forced memory, it is mostly a souvenir success will come after conditons are ripe.
Their help more to me is in the characters, I always imagine out how to listen to the rock writing. I write the novel, the random notes, bring and comfort each other calmly, I will use the great section of big lyrics of sections, can't originally get whether it is original or original work, someone speaks my book like the lyrics, the lyrics that can not be much found even appear in my book easily in a large amount.
My name is cello, I am 14 years old, I live in Beijing, I made a book, I called it " subway ".
It would rather be with that mail to continue saying and fill in.
She says, should wear a pair of beautiful flat shoes while taking those distances, does not take Anne baby's book, only take some blank sheet of paper, in order to want the picture to make the image of some miss middlemans. Take a hand bought back from Hainan to embroider and wrap up to wrap up. Take the watery music of some women away.
The game that she says, England has just scored a goals, it is together that all people gather around. Five really bend and continue singing the language that I do not know and mood which I understand.
I smiled, I have played the cello for eight years, watched the soccer for seven years, she got the wrong number in England, there is generals that I like Beckham in a complete mess inside, only he has a wife, there are sons, I know I has no chance. Certainly I never hope any chance, the chance is striven for by oneself, does not give alms.
She wants to go to Xiamen, the reason is very simple, just find the attachment that is lost to the city. There is not that Beijing that she always goes is not that Shanghai of the materialization is not general Qingdao on the island.
I want to go to Shanghai, the reason has been already explained.

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