A black hole of memory that can devour the sky. Accustomed to showing the warm side of the sun, leaving only a shadow for yourself. Over time, this shadow will grow bigger and bigger, forming a larger black hole of memory and devouring itself.

I have a lot of weird stories in my head that I would love to tell to my faithful book lovers. But there are stories that you want to understand and can be told, and there are stories that you haven't figured out and can't tell.

In other words, because I have too many strange thoughts in my head, I really want to tell others too much, but I am always afraid that there will be no loyal listeners, so in the years when I was growing up, I just wanted to be a listener more often.

For example, I wanted to write an article about the unbearable past of my childhood, and I thought about it for days, but I still didn't know where to start.

So much so that I began to break the change, but I couldn't do anything about it, and then when the wee hours of the morning were approaching, I couldn't wait to send out the two sentences that I was still brewing to save my break, which is sorry for the loyal book fans.

But breaking off the change, for me is like domestic violence, when I endure my first behavior, I will begin to relax my nerves, tolerate myself more times, or maybe I have been thinking about the story for a long time, and I was strangled in my swaddling clothes by a break of my own.

That's what I'm trying to say.

Instead, go to great lengths to compile a perfect opening story. For example, write something like this:

Recently, after reading my novel, Mr. Liu said that my childhood memories were suspected of boasting.

He asked me, "Haven't you done something terrible?" ”

At first, I didn't think about it, so I asked him, "What's the story of your childhood?" ”

He said, "There is not one story, there are many accidents. ”

Then he told me about a book that was stolen when he was in school.

When he was a child, his family was also very poor. He wanted to buy a Xinhua dictionary. His mother disagreed, so she let him and his eldest brother use a copy. Then he clamored to buy a copy, and then his mother gave him five dollars, and he happily bought a copy, and lost it on the first day he got to school before he could even write his name.

He didn't dare to tell his parents, but after searching for several days, he found that there was a girl in the class who had a dictionary exactly like him, but the side of the brand-new dictionary was painted blue with pen and ink.

Suddenly, I also remembered one thing, I also worked as a book thief in my childhood, and I did many unbearable past things.

Mr. Liu's story, like the thread in Chihiro's hand, pulls out many filthy stories in my memory. This made me wonder, "Did you ever cause an accident to the owner in the story?" ”

It was an incident that happened in the second semester of my first grade at a primary school in a neighboring village......

The fact is that Mr. Liu told this story when I asked him if he had any friends who had been tricked or abandoned by fate in his memory, and those classmates who finally walked out of the orbit of life because of their original family.

He replied, "No," and I was not reconciled to an evil voice in my head, whose hometown was so backward that only the word "simple people" remained.

So I had to ask him to tell one, and he told me the story. And this story made me even more confused, because I also wanted to tell a story like this, but I was the girl in the story, the thief who stole the book in his eyes.

I was a little scared and started hesitating. He didn't dare to tell him, so he asked him, "What about you?" ”

He said, "There is no evidence, I can only admit this unfortunate thing, I can't tell the teacher without evidence" ...... "When I went home, my mother complained that I would let you and my brother use a book, but they didn't listen." ”

After hesitating for a long time and thinking for a long time, I told him the same story. It's just that I'm the girl who stole the books. He encouraged me to tell the story.

So, I changed the title to: Ideological and moral lessons I took in my childhood.

At the beginning of the second semester of my first grade, my mother still didn't buy me textbooks, so I used the textbooks that my second sister didn't write and draw.

When I told my mom, she promised to buy me new textbooks. But later, she went to the bookstore to buy books, and the old textbooks she bought were still available.

Then, I showed her the new edition of my classmate's book, and she told me to change it.

In the end, I only bought back a language book, a math book, an explanation of new Chinese words and two workbooks. There are no nature textbooks, ideological and moral textbooks, art textbooks, physical education and health physiology textbooks.

I was upset and had a big fight with her, but it didn't work, she said, "I didn't find the books." Or maybe she thinks that these books are not important, that they are not worth wasting money, and that there is no money at all, and that I can borrow books from my classmates to study together.

Although I didn't accept this fact, I was just a kid at the time, and I couldn't do anything. I could only struggle for a while with the teacher asking me over and over again, "Why didn't you bring a book?"

The teachers seemed to be very forgetful, because even if I told them that I didn't have any books to bring with me because my mom didn't buy them for me, some teachers would ask me the next time, "Why didn't you bring a book?" Then I repeated the answer and asked a lot of questions, no simpler than when I said, "I forgot to bring it."

If I say, "I forgot to bring it." ”

The teacher will say, "Remember to bring it next time." "Why don't you remember to eat?" …… It's all just for me, and I can accept it.

If I say, "I don't have a book. ”

The teacher will ask, "Why don't you have a book?" ”

Then I needed to explain that my mom didn't buy me a book. In contrast, I would rather blame my mother for not bringing a book, and I would rather blame myself for not bringing a book.

So, I prefer to reply, "I forgot to bring a book." ”

But there are always a few teachers with good memories who will ask, "You didn't bring books with you in the last class, why haven't you brought books in this class?" ”

Therefore, in addition to Chinese and math classes, more often than not, I will take some other books and pretend to look at them obsessively, not caring about what the teacher says or asks.

It's just that there is a teacher's class that I can't do, and that is my ideological and moral teacher. He would often start a class, first check who in our class did not bring books, and then go to class.

And I, because I was punished by the head teacher for standing at the beginning of the school year, my ideological and moral teacher rescued me, and I am especially grateful to him. So I didn't allow myself to attend his classes without a book, and I couldn't listen to the lectures well.

Then, I had the idea of stealing the book. At that time, my table mate was a male classmate, and his books were ordered at school, and it was a complete set of books. But I was embarrassed that he was slow to speak, could not pronounce accurately, and was reluctant to speak to me, let alone lend me his books to read. Besides, every one of his books is not named, and he never takes his bag home.

So, if I stole his books, my guilt would be light, and even though I didn't know the word guilt at the time, I just had the idea of stealing his books.

It was one day not long after school started, and one afternoon after school, I took advantage of his departure and secretly pulled the books he hadn't had time to put away from his desk and stuffed them into my school bag.

When I got home, I carefully wrote my name on the book, wrapped a cover in my sister's newspaper, wrote my name again, and then wrote my name again on the title page, and my name on the side. Still uneasy, I wrote my name in the middle and my name on the last page.

At that time, I just wanted not to be discovered by others, and even if I was discovered, if my table mate said that the book was his, I could prove my "innocence".