I have known J for more than ten years and hesitated for a long time to write a story about me and him. Of course, the story is not complicated, but involves privacy. Although we are very familiar with each other, we are not familiar enough to expose the most private stories without turning our backs. On that day, as usual, we played a game similar to the big adventure of sincerity. J said I had circumcised my foreskin, I said I had suffered from condyloma acuminatum, J said I was afraid of AIDS, I said the Qiang Qiang three person trip in Vietnam was really cheap, J said the Thai sirens made me shamefully hard, I said I ate the blue pill but didn't insist for 30 minutes, J said I should believe in love, get married, I said, fuck you, go! J said that I would go through the divorce procedure tomorrow. I said that you are trying to push me into the fire.

When I was in my twenties, I experienced two love experiences. One was asking for nothing, the other was going to bed easily, one was having love without sex, and the other was having sex without love. Later, when I became Buddha, I only went to the roadside foot washing city to find a woman when I was on hormones. Sometimes it was the middle-aged Xu Niang in her thirties, and sometimes it was the young girl who was not deeply involved in the world. The difference was that some were loose, some were tight, and some had better skills, Some are less skilled, some are allowed to kiss, some are not allowed, some have scars on their stomachs, some are minimally invasive, some have killed pigs, some have lost money, some have used WeChat QR codes, and some have used cash.

The night I met J, I waited for a girl in a foot washing city to get on the clock. It was after the National Day, after the long holiday, men were pouring out of their nests, trying to spend some money to find their lost sense of existence. The business in the store is booming. Most men who are used to private cars are like men like me who don't own any cars. Suddenly, they find it so damn hard to get on the bus. J next door reported three or four numbers in a row and was told that he needed to queue up. Suddenly, he reported 9, 9, which I was familiar with. In the empty room, this number aroused my impulse to listen to the wall. Although I also had to queue up, J finally fixed the number at 9. Maybe it was fate. Girl 9 came to J's clock half an hour earlier than my 18 girls, and the story began.

In Yibin, Sichuan, the ninth girl started her journey. She told this story countless times, which is slightly different from what she told me, but I would like to believe that this is just a deviation in memory. The main line is clear: first, kill pigs to live, then meet scum men, scum men to have fun, the ninth girl gave birth to a girl, the incident happened in the east window, the prodigal son turned around, the ninth girl died, went to Zhoushan, Nanjing, and Xuzhou, The farthest group is Hainan Island, where people and old people live in foot washing city. The night turns upside down, and they take the store as their home. Sometimes they take their young daughter McDonald's to buy a car Passat.

J said that I met my wife now. This is the first time I heard his story. J said: At that time, I was going through a low point in my life. I was unemployed, cheated, lost my close relatives, and the future was bleak. She just appeared, regardless of everything. Chances and coincidences in life are full of randomness. It seems that we are destined to have sex, accidental pregnancy, forced marriage, evidence, alcohol and children. It is like a high-speed train that can no longer stop. But suddenly one day, the black hole of life engulfed us. We were like anoxic fish, twisted, struggling, suffocating, dead, and lost all our beauty, but we were alive. Criton, I still owe Asclepis a rooster.

My heart says I fuck. I'm still middle-aged in literature and art.

I drank too much water. J was a middle-aged crisis. We almost walked out of the door at the same time. The dark light in the corridor was dim and flickering. At the moment when the urinal in the bathroom shook, I glanced at J: wearing gold wire glasses, his hair was pale, and his urethra narrowed after erection. J was waiting. I have had this experience, but it is not very frequent. Time is like a flowing river, and we begin to grow old.

One day three years later, J tried to demonstrate to me logically how untenable my physiognomy theory of "if you can't find a beautiful girl, it's useless to get married, it's just making do with life" was. J asked me: If San Shangyou wants to marry you, will you? Like the first time we met, I fell into meditation after we exchanged a cigarette in the lobby of Foot Washing City. I know myself too well. The power of sex is powerful, but it is not big enough to completely defeat rationality. Human beings have developed such a huge cerebral cortex. They have reached a higher level in animal groups, killed mammoths, and used Neanderthal skulls as wine jugs. It is not just the amygdala that counts. After releasing the genetic material, I fell into deep emptiness for countless times. The bottomless emptiness is my cerebral cortex fighting. In the end, I had to admit that I could bravely not wear a condom, but I could not marry Sanshangyuya. We may make love for a thousand and one times. Like countless women, she will grow old and her breasts will droop. I will be persistent and never fail. We will not shoot like the first time, but we will eventually go on the old road of mutual hatred. No appearance can prevent entropy reduction.

J said that we were born lonely, I said that no matter what we have.

Later that night in the foot washing city, J and I sat together again by coincidence. The hall is dark, the massage chairs are close to each other, and the smoke from predecessors in the ashtray is suspended in the air. An Italian film is being broadcast stealthily on the TV in the hall, in which a little boy's peeping eyes and a cut orange are shown. I told J to borrow a fire. At the moment of ignition, the picture of the movie was from top to bottom. Monica Bellucci's breasts were as plump as orange juice. Many years later, J still praised Tonaldore, saying that the movie was a high profile version of himself. The story was all the same, except that all her heroines were not tall cheekbones, nose, breasts, and pubic hair. I said it was a race issue, and J agreed.

The picture of the movie continues to flow. I recline on the massage chair, the fireworks flicker, and fall into the deep disappointment again. This disappointment has been like a ghost since I was 15 years old, accompanied by the left and right, lingering. J said that he was later than me. He was 17 years old in the summer, in a small wooden house near the reservoir in his hometown. At that time, he was back against the green mountains, and his eyes were in a brilliant forest. We almost had the same consciousness: the world was frozen on an erect penis.

Suddenly, like a traveler, heaven and earth are like a spring palace.

J and I became friends after coming out of the foot washing city. Then one night in winter, J suddenly called me and said that he saw a middle-aged man on the Lotus Road wearing thin clothes. He was kicked out of the house like a dog by his wife with a kitchen knife. So we made an appointment in the "Kitano Wuno Bistro".

J said that through a pink pleated curtain, the spring breeze was warm and the spring rain was tight at night. The woman squatting in front of the door was smoking hookah under the eaves. When she smiled, her teeth were stained dark yellow, and when she looked up, wrinkles were spreading. She and the girl sitting upright in the room at the moment formed a comparative picture of the passage of time.

At the beginning of the night, the air was filled with jasmine fragrance. At the end of a winding river, there was a white sail surrounded by water. The river was narrow.

J said that this is the night market in Ho Chi Minh City, with a price tag of 3000 yuan for virgins. J said what are we looking for? I said don't pretend. We never calm down before.

I remember that night, I said to J, but no, I said to J. We sipped in the pub, the fire was warm. Takeshi Kitano, whose face is paralyzed, said to the pervert to take it off? so what? The pervert said that then I would suck it. Please let me

Takeshi Kitano slapped and took the money from the pervert.

No matter what genes transform us into, we are always its slaves.

In the spring again, J and I set out from Nanning by motorcycle, crossed Dongxing Port, crossed the stone monument of "Qinzhou Boundary of the Qing Dynasty", and then went south along the coastline to Ho Chi Minh City.

The subtropical monsoon climate was cloudy and sunny. When it rained that day, we were walking through a large area of dragon fruit forest. J jumped off the motorcycle and hid under a cacao tree with me. He took off his glasses and looked at me with a bitter and evil smile on his face. What are we doing, idiot? I said for brother. The sun forced its head out of the rain and dried our heads, so we continued to walk through for some plausible and unstoppable reason, full of courage.

The stronger the desire at first, the stronger the disappointment afterwards. Fifteen days later, in a small French building in Ho Chi Minh City, I saw Ah M. In my imagination, I tried countless positions: kneel on the front and back, and then at the first sight of Ah M, a voice told me to behave more like a gentleman, and then I ended the fight with the most traditional missionary for 30 seconds. J smiled and said that I was an empty Teddy with desires.

At first, it was unwilling, then it was indulgence, self-confidence, entertainment, disappointment, regret, self blame. J cut a fried egg with a knife, tasted coffee in the restaurant on the roof and pointed me out that the brain is our only sexual organ. We built a huge sex country with imagination. Steamed bread, grapes, orange juice, bikini, time stop

I told you to fuck your uncle, but I didn't see you masturbate with your head.

The palm trees outside the small building swayed in the rain, and the sky darkened early that day. Ah M, who has been hanging out with me for three days, came to me and said c á m ơ At N o'clock, I felt disappointed, paid the money and waved her away. At first, I thought I saw a mirage, and the streamer guided me to chase it. But when I was really in the mirage, I found that what I had was nothing. Two women in Audrey's dress downstairs raised their skirts and crept into the cloister to hide from the rain. Audrey's chest was beautiful, but it was boring when she took it off. J came in. We were silent. After being rational, we lost our courage. We sold our motorcycles and returned home from Xinshan First Airport.

After returning from Vietnam for a long time, I had no contact with J, and my desire rose and fell like a tide. I could not reach an agreement with my brain all the time, and kept going back and forth in the cycle. Only the occasional sense of aging made this rise and fall gradually like damping vibration.

Then I met a woman. I called her Little D. She is the only serious woman who has been single for more than ten years. But maybe we have too many masks, and sometimes it is difficult to tell the truth from the truth. Just as I enjoy her body cheaply while I dislike her flat breasts.

After three months of honeymoon, we began to get bored with each other. For example, she dislikes my foreskin dirt and I despise her menstrual blood. Finally, after a war broke out one morning, I stared at smallpox and could not imagine living like this for 30 years. After getting used to fast food, I can hardly get used to cooking in a pot. Sometimes, they sit down on a curb on the street and stare at the women who come and go. After a breeze, they stop to clean up their makeup. They are all dressed delicately, wearing powder and lipstick. I can't help thinking that the world is dressed up by lies. The closer we get, the more disappointed we become. Women are like this, even though I have added many different annotations to myself.

One night after breaking up with D, J sent me a bloody picture. The photo looks like a meatball. The surface is covered with meridians, dragging a long rope. J left me a message saying that he had unloaded a source of happiness. I asked him what the fuck was. J said testicles. J is thirty-nine. On the morning when he was thirty-nine, he lost one of his testicles. J said that it was impossible to peel off the seminoma during the company's physical examination, but it was still benign. I said, don't you mean you......, J said no, I have one pill less than two pills, and I have one more than zero pill.

J said that when I was in my twenties, I had a spring dream. Under the red persimmon fields in the garden, crows flew by, and a woman whose face I didn't remember slipped into consciousness from the subconscious. But I believe I will recognize that face when I see it again. Life is repeated in a familiar circle.

J told me many of his fantasies since then, just like the brain still remembers the existence of the hand whose arm was broken. I occasionally asked him a few questions during his boring convalescence, such as why men and women grow two pieces of meat in the same place, one is hard, the other is soft; Why are women's buttocks cocky and men's buttocks flat. Sometimes, of course, we will go further to the problem of the origin of the world, such as how we define sexiness and how we define beauty. Even metaphysically, for example, whether we pursue all the beauty we define, whether there is any essential error, whether there is any danger of the collapse of large buildings, as if irrational numbers are to integers, infinitesimal quantities are to calculus, and paradoxes are to sets. Some J gave me an answer after a long time, and some still have no answer.

Before the fork in the path, J and I seemed to have gone through too many similar roads, and even I couldn't tell who did it for me. I often wonder how J and I will say goodbye when we come to a fork in the path. I think of the beginning of Duras's "Lover", as if we met for the first time.

My hair began to decrease day by day, the gap between my teeth became larger, and the groove under the third tooth on the left side of my lower front teeth became deeper and deeper. After drinking a bottle of vitamin C100, I would take a cold breath, which would be sour and teetering. I am old. One day, J came to me in the hall of a public place. He said to me: I know you and always remember you. That night in Xiongfeng Foot Washing City, you were still young. I heard you crooning on the 18th. The passing turtle said that you were fierce. He said that although your time was not long, your fighting power was strong, like a Mongolian dagger. Later, we met in front of the urinal. The sound of your urination was so loud that it seemed to pierce the ceramic wall of the urinal marked "American standard.", But we have gone through, this is life, it will always pass, never look back.