Xiao Xia, there have been many important male roles in her mother's life. Almost all of them have brought unbearable feelings to their mothers to a greater or lesser extent. Sometimes my mother doesn't want to write these words down on paper, because this kind of debunking, deep-seated debunking, is like exposing the essence of my mother's life, which completely makes my mother lose the courage to face life.

The first thing Mom wants to write about is your grandfather, what a great man he is. The outer skin on my mother's body is almost my grandfather's outer skin, and this outer skin is reproduced on my mother as it is, and even most of the time it fits, which is enough to deceive people. So upright, so ambitious, so far-sighted, so strong, so brave, so righteous. But Xiao Xia, the skin of these qualities is given to men, and in the eyes of his mother, it is pathetic. It is also a kind of sadness to give it to the mother. In fact, Mom and Grandpa are burdened with this tragedy of perfect justice at the same time. What we can never do, always right, always upright, makes us annoyed, makes us want to tear apart others, tear apart people who see all this, tear apart people who see that we can't actually do it, we are cheesy rotten people.

Grandpa was unlucky. He does not accept the arrangement of fate, his angry sneering life, all his weaknesses are exposed, but he does not admit it. He made his weaknesses into wooden guns, and he went to war with them. It's such a tragedy-like comedy, a comedy-like tragedy. But it's a person's life.

Xiaoxia, my mother doesn't want to say that there is a difference between men and women. But from a woman's point of view, my mother feels that a man who is so strong in presiding over justice and incompetent in the face of reality is so pitiful that he should pity a woman. In other words, although my mother is lying on the same tracks, although the train of fate has not yet crushed my mother's body so mercilessly, just as they crushed my strong grandfather. But my mother still felt that she could fulfill her pure tragedy, not the tragicomedy of fighting with a wooden gun. In essence, it is actually more worthy of compassion for himself, because a purely tragic life is because he does not even have the courage to use a wooden gun to survive. Yes, my mother is a real person who lives in the skin of broken justice, but is weak and shy, a person who disarms and surrenders in the skin of justice, and a person who is not on topic.

But my mother knows herself too well, because it is so similar, so my mother can understand grandpa's drama. Grandpa has never found the point that should be found, to let go, to face reality, to see that he is not a perfect person. He will never admit it. Mom wasn't sure if she was obligated to help him, just like her mom helped him, to give up something, to let go, so that he didn't interfere in anyone's life anymore, and let himself take control of his own life first. Grandpa thinks he's right and will never give up that sense of control. Grandpa can't see what he can't do because he doesn't look. Mom was also reluctant to help him.

There is also this kind of thing in the mother's blood and thoughts, and this group of silverfish turns into skin and wraps the mother. But because of the existence of my grandfather, my mother had to give up her own skin to support my grandfather's skin, and the feeling of listening to all his instructions removed the skin that my mother had brought. Mom was almost naked and skinless before she became an adult. And this, because your grandfather will insist that he is right all his life, that he will always be right, and that he will never see that his mother seems to have inherited a similar skin, so his mother will be naked for the rest of her life. The two are not only tragic in their own right, but also in each other's tragedy.

Later, my mother found that many men have this kind of thing, this kind of determination, this kind of rotten death on the street, and I also feel that I have insight and ambition but have the idea of not meeting talents. This kind of face, the face of a man's curse, many people have it, it turns out that it's not just grandpa.

Later, my mother found out that she also had it, not grandpa, not a man, but a mother, even if she was naked, her mother knew what she looked like before she was torn apart, and she was supposed to hold on to her face.

Mom is like going to reincarnate to hold the footsteps of fate, and when she wants to jump out of this determined face, her mother finds it difficult. Mom wants to be down-to-earth, okay or not, and wants to see more real things, instead of scolding and sneering like grandpa, and having to do it. Mom found it difficult, but not completely impossible.

The second thing Mom wants to write is your Dad. Mom didn't know him. Mom's understanding of grandpa is so freewheeling, and Mom sees through him. But for your dad, mom can't see through it. What was Dad thinking, what his childhood was like, how his life wanted to be. Mom found that Dad never said, didn't say much, and didn't go deeper. Dad is always reserved, Dad always likes to be surprised, and Dad always hopes that he can surprise people. Mom just wants to throw up. Mom doesn't like the surprise your dad brings, and mom doesn't like the show after he keeps a hand. But it has nothing to do with mom. Unlike Grandpa, if Grandpa is a cloud above Mom's head, then Dad is nothing, and he no longer exists anywhere. Mom doesn't know if Dad doesn't want to say it, or if he doesn't have the ability to say it. Mom doesn't know. But this feeling is not a big deal, my mother had faintly wanted to know before, but so quickly, she was not interested at all. Such a passer-by is your father.

Mom has been around passers-by like Dad, and they may have different characteristics from your Dad, just like actors on stage, with different roles and different contradictions. When they came, they were menacing, with their own advantages and disadvantages, with their own skins. Some of them will talk more, some will say less, some have such a childhood, some have such a home, and when they leave later, some will be quiet, and some will leave nightmares like the devil. But among these people, Mom thinks Dad is the smartest, so smart that Mom is so scared, Mom feels like a mouse has touched a cat, that kind of fear that is not a human at all, Mom is in the game where your dad keeps a hand, and occasionally thinks that those passers-by come and go lightly, how gentle it is, even the devil's face is smiling, it is better than the feeling of completely falling into the game.

Although Mom is so afraid and doesn't understand your dad so much, what Mom can be sure of is that Dad cares about himself very much, he is so sure of his belief in himself, that he is so lonely and supports himself, and tries hard to make decisions for himself. When Mom thinks like this, she will begin to understand him, because Mom actually sees herself again. Just like seeing herself from your grandfather, doesn't your mother care about herself so much? Could my mother be someone who can't see her own horrible soul? Could mom just be the opposite of dad who loses a move? Mom hopes not, but Mom isn't sure either.

There are all kinds of men, who live so naked instinctively. They will ask you in explicit sentences if you like to do housework, as if you were elegantly tapping on the side of poetry. They'll stare straight at your exposed skin, as if they're studying porcelain in a serious way. They will hide their selfishness and incompetence, hide a life script that is righteous and bright on the outside, but in fact has no way to see the reality clearly, and is unwilling to live a down-to-earth life, pretending to have a blue sky and clouds in front of you. And when you expose them, or even accidentally expose them, then they will suddenly cover you with their own shadows, and do everything possible to cover up the emptiness between the flesh of the worm and the skin of an upright person, or they will turn around and spit away.

But what about Mom? Mom is naked, and at the same time she cares so much about herself as an actor. Mom cooperated with grandpa, cooperated with dad, cooperated with men, women and herself, and performed to her heart's content. Most of the time, my mother wants to piece together the broken skin given by my grandfather, and my mother still wants to have her own righteous skin when my grandfather is away. And there are many, many times when my mother is naked, observing others and herself.

What is the difference between those who are misogynistic, misogynistic, misogynistic, hateful, hateful, hateful, helpless cover-up, hypocrisy, pathetic performance, for men and women, for mothers themselves?