When I was a child, my dad asked me to guess riddles and ask what was the least afraid of the cold. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

I thought about it for a long time, pointing to the ducks in the river and saying that they are not afraid of the cold, because they are still screaming in the water when it is so cold.

My dad said that snot is not afraid of cold, and the colder it gets, the more it wants to come out.

Beijing in winter is dry and cold, not as cold as the winter in the south. In the winter in Beijing, you can curl up in the house to take in the heat, while in the winter in the south, you can still get into the house and get into the cold and have a runny nose.

Beijing's cold is direct and blunt, while the south's cold is tactful and smart.

There is no heating in the south, and there is nowhere to escape from the bitter cold, and in winter, the feet of children who do not like to move are covered with red chilblains, like peaches, and their shoes cannot be worn.

There was an old man in the town who slept at night and added too many quilts, and was finally crushed to death by the quilt, which sounded evil.

Another winter is coming, and life is calm. The work of the publishing house is relatively leisurely, walking out of the office building after work on weekends, on the deserted street, the cold wind blows the face unconscious, and occasionally walks past a couple embracing each other, and the cold street is no longer so lonely.

It's so close and so far away from love, it reminds me of a song by the old wolf called "Winter in Beijing":

Winter in Beijing when lips become chapped

Someone begins to feel sad and misses his old friends

The day the north wind blew in

Migratory birds have already flown far away

Our love becomes an endless anticipation

This is a feeling, this song is too appropriate for me.

On the way back to his residence, I saw Yang Chenjun buying pig's trotters at the deli, I thought that this guy was going to break his ring and open meat after getting back together with his ex-girlfriend. So he went up and asked, "What's the matter with you?" ”

He said, "Huh? Why did you come back so late? ”

"It's overtime, and there's a book that's in a hurry to be published."

"I didn't eat, I'll buy you an extra one."

"I came back after I had eaten and drunk."

"Oh, okay then." He put the pig's trotters under his arm, and while taking out the money to settle the bill, he said, "I met a man on the road, who slept on the side of the road shivering in the winter. ”

"And then you took him home with a guilty heart?" I asked him to pick up the pig's trotter that was caught under his armpit.

"Yes, take them in, he's pitiful."

"And you bought this trotter for him?"

"Hmm."

When we returned to our accommodation, we saw an unkempt young man with long hair sitting on the sofa at home, looking around with unfamiliar eyes.

Usually, Yuan Zheng doesn't come back often, and when he comes back occasionally, he takes the two of us out to eat and drink. Most of the time, only Yang Chenjun and I are there, we clean the house every day, this dirty buddy sits in our house, and suddenly has the immediate sense of grandma entering the Grand View Garden.

Yang Chenjun introduced me and said, "Roommate Zeng Xiaoyu. ”

He stood up and reached out to shake my hand and said, "My pen name is Lan Tingzi, a troubadour. ”

People who have always been more interested in "on the road", such as Yu Yue in high school, they can not only think but also be bold and dare to do. People like me are full of romantic tidbits and imagination, but they don't dare to put them into practice, so they can only daydream every day, which is purely the master of adultery.

In the Middle Ages, people associated the idea of vagrancy with the terrible things of being a leprosy and a social and moral pariah, when anyone who loved freedom was killed by leprosy.

Instead of the usual logic, the wanderer responds with boldness and fearlessness, representing change and moving forward, rather than being complacent.

In my opinion, homeless people suffer from "leprosy", and this "leprosy" is dissatisfaction with real life, as well as romantic feelings and idealism.

The poet has gray hair and a melancholy face, and his face does not know whether it is long freckles or dirt, dirty.

The cheekbones are high, and they bulge from the face in disobedience, as if protesting against secular dogma, and a little cynical. As soon as he spoke, his teeth blackened by smoke were exposed, and at first glance he looked like a wild Tony Leung.

Wild Tony Leung complained that there were no poems anymore and that the people who wrote poems should go to Tibet.

The poet asked me if I like to read poetry, and I said: "I only like to read ancient poetry, modern poetry appeared in the May Fourth period was originally a contradiction, on the one hand, it played a role in protesting against the old culture, on the other hand, it exaggerated the social function in a hurry, and wiped out the artistry of poetry, so now everyone can be a poet, and a few more bullshit commas are poems when they say a word of saliva, and there is neither rhyme and format, nor thoughts and feelings." ”

The poet laughed "haha" and came to hug me warmly, and Lao Tzu almost didn't breathe and almost suffocated to death before letting go. He said self-deprecatingly: "Then I'll be amorous to myself." ”

The poet took out a book of poems called "Pilgrimage" from his broken backpack: "This is a collection of poems that I published at my own expense, and I laughed. ”

I took the book of poems and said, "Thank you, I'll definitely read it." ”

I looked through his poetry collection, he was hungry and crazy at this time, and he took the pig's trotters that Yang Chenjun bought and gnawed wildly.

After chewing, he didn't wipe his hands, took out a cheap front door cigarette case with soft packaging from his pocket, and put his fingers into the cigarette box to probe, and found that it was empty, with a disappointed look on his face.

Yang Chenjun said: "Wait a minute, I'll help you buy cigarettes." ”

The poet hurriedly refused, saying: "Brother Yang doesn't have to be polite, it's freezing this day, it's a coincidence that I'm waiting in this house to chat, so don't smoke." ”

We talked happily with Brother Lantingzi, talked about Byron, Shelley, Pushkin, Tagore, talked about Guo Lusheng, and talked about Beidao.

The poet wanders around, it is difficult to find a confidant, and when he encounters us who can't help himself, he is touched by his true feelings, and says affectionately: "In an era when material life is relatively rich and spiritual life is relatively poor, in a society where people avoid the sublime and are willing to be mediocre, the poet makes us humble and insignificant. The loneliness, despair, and rebellion of poets are the conscience of society, and North Island can proudly call themselves poets. ”

Yang Chenjun listened attentively beside him, propped his head and said: "There were still ideals and beliefs in that era, what do we believe in now?" Think about this generation is quite tragic, although they don't have to worry about eating and drinking, but the spirit is hungry and thirsty, people with ideals are regarded as monsters, this society is sick, and very sick, we only like entertainment and ridicule, we don't like the sublime and great. ”

Romain Rolland said that the great soul is like a mountain, and not ordinary human beings can survive on the peak, but once a year they should go up and prostrate. There, they can change the breath in the lungs, with the blood flow in the vasculature. There, they will feel closer to eternity. Later, they returned to the vast plain of life, and their hearts were full of the courage to fight every day. For our time, this is the word of gold. "The poet's Mandarin is extremely non-standard, but it is full of the breath of the land.

I was moved by the poet's simplicity and saw his earnestness, which was like a thin green in the desert, trying to spread.

He said that sometimes he could see the dead, resurrected in various forms, and that only the eyes of a child could see them, floating in the dark night air.

Since I didn't go to work the next day, we chatted until two o'clock in the morning, and everyone still washed up and fell asleep.

The poet was envious of the shower and said, "You can learn and enjoy a hot bath, and you envy me." Every day when I am hungry, I go to ask for something to eat, and when I am tired, I sleep, the sky is the quilt, the ground is the bed, and the joy is leisure, but there are also times when I am physically and mentally exhausted. ”

At this time, the image of the poet is particularly tall in our eyes, high into the universe.

He took a hot shower and fell asleep on the couch, snoring. The sound was rhythmic, like the sound of a tractor's motor. Occasionally talking in his sleep, he doesn't know what he's nagging, as if he is telling his wife not to leave him.

I don't know when I fell asleep, and I dreamed in a daze that the old man surnamed Huang gave me a haircut when I was a child, and the haircut was pitted, bloody, and I didn't want to live, and I wanted to cry without tears. It turned out that Yuan Zheng was back, and he was pulling Lao Tzu's hair and howling.

It was about five or six o'clock, and it was already daylight. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and poked my head out of the bed, only to see Yuan Zheng carrying a suitcase and roaring: "You two pigs, sleep more than pigs, your home has been looted like this, you are still sleeping, get up quickly!" ”

I jumped out of bed and saw a terrifying and memorable image: the cabinet drawers were all open, and all the valuable things, televisions, laptops, mobile phones, wallets, clothes, shoes and socks were all missing, ****** gone.

Even my beloved out-of-print "Dream of Red Mansions" has disappeared without a trace, and this book is a family heirloom for our family.

Yang Chenjun ran to the living room in his pajamas, and when he saw the vision, he was dumbfounded.

The poet on the sofa has long since evaporated.

We told Yuan Zheng about the sleepover poet, and Yuan Zheng said bitterly: "You are luring wolves into the house!" ”

What made him laugh and cry the most was that the condoms he imported from France and the red underwear he bought to wear for the birth year were also stolen.

Yuan Zheng thought about it and said: "This is God's will, God doesn't want me to do bad things, and condoms won't be used anyway." ”

The house was ransacked, and we haven't figured out how to get this goods, and we can take away so many things in such a short time, is there still a helper?

There is another question that I haven't woken up, whether this guy is a thief disguised as a poet, or a poet disguised as a thief. Either way, he taught us a vivid lesson about human nature.

We agreed that if we are not friends or relatives in the future, we must not take them home, otherwise one day my brother will die in the house and be stoned to death and rotten into a skeleton, and no one will know.

Yuan Zheng said that there is no need to call the police, in the end, this is self-inflicted, just pass, property is a trivial matter, if something happens to the two of you, what do you say I will do.

At least Yang Chenjun and I didn't cause a bloody case in the corpse house, and we are extremely lucky to keep the dog's head.

I told Chen Fei about this, and she was so happy that she couldn't straighten her waist, especially when I talked about Yuan Zheng's condoms and red underwear were also stolen, she said: "What age is this, the word 'poet' is almost the same as scolding, you nerds are too idealistic." ”