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年终总结之：本会被河蟹的一篇

（虽然知道也不会有什么人看但是本文只代表个人立场！个人立场！个人立场！我不想喜提一次传唤谢谢！）

之前看到网上的各种小粉红和战狼的言论全都一个白眼翻过，心里默默骂一句脑残之后不会再想关心什么，也就以为自己受父母影响是个明白人。翻墙看过油管之后也没有觉得玻璃心碎一地，除了震惊于热传的中国“扣分体制”，其他的感觉都是“哦，之前都听说过，原来只是像听说的那样坏。”

可能一切改变都是从台湾的问题上开���的。

开学的时候听到有人议论，开学典礼上台湾跟中国被分开叫到，而且他们台湾学生举台湾国旗诶。——而那时候我还不知道台湾有国旗。 在OB课上好端端的自我介绍，突然前两天还给我饼干吃的温柔帅哥突然一句“Actually I’m from Taiwan” 让我一脸懵逼的时候也开始想，如果台独真的是少数，应该不会说的那么自豪吧= =

回去就问了当时关系还蛮好的舍友，也是被舍友能略微记得蒋介石的名字所震惊。当一个印尼人跟我讲“蒋介石到台湾之后，毛泽东新建立了一个国家，然后就是变成两个国家了吧。虽然我知道这问题很敏感，但是这就是我的理解”的时候，我才意识到，原来我所一直避讳，也听爸妈的话一直闭口不谈的政治，并不是不谈就能觉得不重要的。

而在我赶紧去油管和百科上找那根中国人一直紧抓的救命稻草——九二共识的时候：诶？什么是各自表述？怎么从来没听说过一个中国还有后半句？ 想起那句“受到的教育要先跳出来看再加以判断”，才觉得之前真的没有去探求的事情有太多。百度上也有无数关于各自表述的网页，但是天天吵着九二共识，中国一点都不能少的大多数，又有几个去真的查证过呢。 当资讯来的太过容易，加之媒体的一再强调，又没有披上“符合社会主义核心价值观”的让人警觉的外套，我就也成了曾经最讨厌的那种人，那种“懒得动脑，记下就好了”的人。虽然也意识到我还只是大多中国人认为的边穷地区来的无名之辈，但是还是不能接受我好像也成了政体之下靠着吸大麻忘记烦恼过活的，沉默的大多数。

在开心的和泰国人聊文革的时候，莫名就主动提起了台湾的问题。在跟韩国人聊起中国政党和人民中间的巨大鸿沟的时候，韩国人问那你们的少数民族想独立你会同意吗，我说可能会不同意吧因为这样国家就四分五裂的了。结果他又说，那台湾呢。这时候旁边的伦敦��姐姐直接打断：台湾不是中国的啊，台湾是一个独立的国家。 于是通宵夜聊被泰国韩国印尼英国人围成一圈像被炮轰一样“Have you ever discussed this with Taiwanese?” “Are you still friends after talking about this?””What will happen if you tell this to other Chinese people?” “Why Chinese people kept saying Taiwan is a part of China?” “Do you really want to declare war on Taiwan?” “Why those Chinese students feel offended when we mention China and Taiwan separately?” 我刚刚开始说“I did a little research”对面印尼小哥就开始鼓掌。我：？？？

但是我也真的蛮自豪我除了“九二共识“这个名词以外，还能讲出它的来龙去脉和自己的见解。那时候Andy说了一句“You are brave”.

我一点都没有觉得开心。因为我觉得我不该是他们眼中的“中国人中的另类”，我更不希望成为“台湾人眼中中国人中的另类”（虽然这里的很多战狼让我觉得还是做个另类比较好hhh）。其实我也不知道为什么那么多人出国之后不是想着开始探求原因而是莫名转化成战狼，毕竟出过国的人那么多，就算每个人回国告诉一个人除了中国世界各国都觉得台湾是独立的，也不会有那么多脑残小粉在微博上毫无目的的攻击他们所认为极个别的”台独分子“吧。。。

这就好比看到一个人说了自己不喜欢的话，就立刻吧唧一声亲到身边讲了自己喜欢听的话的人脸上一样的幼稚啊。要是谁都像这样当个鸵鸟，那不就只有无休止而且还毫无意义的争吵。 可能这样的生活之前我已经习惯了，但是现在却觉得如果一直这样下去，这个世界不是我所期望的样子。（写下这句的时候很想加句 战狼预警）

所以在我再和Tince出去的时候我可以说出“I’m from China, he’s from Taiwan.” 我可以在靓子问我“他是台独吗”的时候尴尬一笑的说“我认识的每个台湾人都是台独”，我可以在中东小哥一脸试探的问我“Is Taiwan a part of China”的时候说“Well I dont think so now.” 出国前有人说，要尽量和湾湾避免谈政治，就能好好做朋友。现在想来，正是因为开始谈政治，才开始和台湾人以及世界各地的人成为真正的朋友。不然如果只是一��逃避维持现状，那全世界防范着中国的心墙就永远都不能被打破了。

从来没有一天会想到我能在看到湾湾为自己的国家所骄傲的时候，为他们感到由衷的祝福。可能如果没有认识这一群可爱的台湾人，看到油管上无数嘲讽和贬低的言论，我就会想”你们独立吧，反正这样能让一直喜欢你们的大陆人看清你们都是怎么恨我们的“。有他们在身边才开始意识到我喜欢一个地方不是因为我们拥有它，而是喜欢那片土地上和我们分享着同样的文化的人，当这些人变成了“一个邻国”的公民，那我就也像尊重和喜欢韩国日本一样，尊重和喜欢这个国家。 如果中国不开始理解和尊重世界，那还凭什么要求别人理解我们呢。

语言学院的餐厅里认真和靓子聊了一个半钟，也不care邻桌坐着的中国人，也不care面前的人到底熟不熟，但是我就是想讲。我也不知道回到中大我还能不能在西餐厅聊完文革再提台湾，还有没有勇气发合照的时候像标记泰国日本一样P上台湾的国旗，还能不能遇到相同三观的完全信任的人同我讲这些（写下这句话的时候又觉得有现在这群人真好），但是心里我也肯定会忍不住在那些随手转发促统微博的同学身上默默加上某种特定的标签，肯定会一次又一次看到无意间被错误导向的中国人，为了事业和金钱去做迎合政党的事情。——而我做着这些事的同时还在劝台湾人不要因为中国人无意的一句说错话就给他们加上“被洗脑”的标签。 真的不知道我这一生有多长，在这一段时光的罅隙里我有能力改变多少人让他们看到事情的全貌。我也不知道像我一样想的人有多少，我们的力量有多大。

以前只觉得“爱国不是爱党”这一句就能让我大多数时候分清“我想知道的”和“我被安排要知道的”，现在才意识到，当我提到我想要这个国家变好的地方，并且分享给别人的时候，就会被当作“不爱国”来和那些卖国叛国的人统一论处。

所有的人都在拿着这个做借口回避早该解决的问题，那岂不是政党最想看到的事情——所有的人都因为惧怕这个政党，成了政党最想要的鲁迅笔下麻木的中国人。 高中之前从不喜欢读鲁迅，晦涩难懂不知所云，感觉像是后世人像分析“眼神里闪着诡异的光“一样分析着鲁迅的作品，现在读到之前随手翻过的作品，才真实感受到文字的厚重感，却还是不能全懂。

想起《未知大学》中最喜欢的那首诗

在桥下，雨中，一个黄金机会 看到我自己： 好像一条蟒蛇在北极，但还在写。 在一个傻瓜的国度写诗。 膝盖上抱着孩子写。 写着写着到天黑 千万个魔鬼轰然降临。 魔鬼必将把我带下地狱。 但还在写。

鱼鳍。

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2018年终总结 预告篇

2018年1月1日的零点，我坐在回学校的车上，旁边坐着一个刚刚跟我认识一周的男生，固然是温暖的一天但是也就是吃了顿饭，仿佛这个年跨出了一种特别的平常。

那天最特别的记忆应该是 下车前收到了一本豆瓣电影日历。 那时候还没意识到2018的每一天，都活成了电影中的样子。

像是看Tince写剧本把一个个事件写在便利贴上然后在一张白纸上挨个排列组合一样，最快乐的快乐，最悲伤的悲伤，还有最迷茫的迷茫，都被一股脑的满满贴进2018的背板里，还一张张重叠着，也不知快乐里浸着的悲伤，还算不算悲伤。 本来在双十二那天因为讨论一些问题 就想开始写年终总结的 但是时至今日发现这一年要记录的太多 那就分开几次慢慢写吧 

这年最常在想什么：

”最好让她十八岁之前出一次国“ 这句话和那句”不论你接收到的教育是什么样子，你凡事都要跳出来看，再做自己的判断“一样，是我姑父在我记忆里仅存的印象之一。 想想也很蹊跷，一个我从来没见过面，也没见过照片，在脑海里的存在就像一个除了一张不断吐着京腔的嘴以外再无其他五官和形态的人，结果成了我出国最常想起的人之一。 我常讲 我在经历的交换生活的每一天，都是我之前根本没想到的一天。 这话不是讲到大马第一天就在吉隆坡市中心疯狂消费，也不是讲第三天我试图无视我的一次性签证直接买机票回国放弃整个交换，也不是无数个跟妈妈打的电话里探求在这里最大的价值是什么，以及我有没有资格在这里每天都很疯的度过。

在2018算是开始有了大学的朋友。不论是国内还是国外。至少是终于有人在跟我聊我想说的东西。

记得4月跟朋友约西餐厅谈到自己想创作但是苦于敬畏一直不敢尝试之后，回宿舍发了条微博说，有的想法就像一个色彩斑斓的大泡泡悬浮在梦里。正是因为知道自己没办法好好抓住，才就看着那个诱人的东西慢慢飘走了。

在大马，“想做电影”和“想写文章”的两个泡泡都被带进了现实，而且发现自己是真的喜欢。这大概是我"gap sem"里最兴奋的两个发现。

同时，在这年发现中华文化不只是中国的，在这年发现教育都是手段，在这年发现之前看到的创可贴都没去想过底下的伤口。

登上到大马的飞机之前我用尽一切机会逃避，现在准备登上回家的飞机我又用尽一切机会不敢去面对现实。全年最可惜的应该是被封掉的微博号中8月底写的那篇文章。可以说这半年我只有那一次真的去面对姥姥走了的事情。

情感太复杂的时候就想写东西，但是今年的不敢分享给身边的人了。发微博怕再不小心丢了，发公众号又感觉要被认识的人当众处刑，最后干脆注册了汤不热随意说说自己想说的。我也不知道我会写出几篇，但是一定会尽量把这最后一点时间用文字无限拉长，企图抓住2018的尾巴，也为自己的那句“活的再使劲一点”的生日心愿做点努力。

鱼鳍。

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A Lame Old Man

There has been a rumor spread in the village since hundreds of years ago: the mountain that surrounds the town is the final edge that they can reach. Nobody has ever gone beyond that. Actually, no one wants to go out because there’s sometimes creepy blueish flames up there. There’s also a story that has been passed down through generations: once, a stupid boy tried to climb over the hill, and the god of the mountain got outraged. The rain did not stop for the whole week, almost all the crops failed to grow. The only remaining amount of foods was the tribute to the mountain god to prevent further damage, while the whole village starved for the whole winter. Many people died in this natural disaster. Since Aso was a child, he lived the same life as everyone. He went to school early in the morning, learned mathematics and literature, and went to the field to help his parents taking care of the crops in the afternoon. There are many kinds of crops cultivated in this village. Rice, wheat, various grains, and some vegetables. Everyone cultivates and harvests. The life is normal but satisfying. However, there’s only one condition to have a satisfying life: worship the mountain god. Every time when the harvest is finished, 90% of the grains are handed over to the most respected people in this village, who will tribute the grains to the god. Although ninety percent is quite a lot, the villagers still think it’s worthwhile. After all, the fields are so vast that they can't finish even 10% of the harvests. People care about sacrifice a lot, but it is so sacred that only certain people can involve in sending the grains to the mountain. They are called “descendants of the mountain”. Though the glorious position is hereditary, and the kids of this family receive separate education all their life, they are always kind and keep modest to everyone. After all, they are just privileged of delivering the crops because only these people can approach the mountain without irritating the god. Sometimes they will also give advice on what to cultivate for the god in the next planting season. Aso was not as obedient as other children. He constantly skipped school to swim in the river, or secretly put a piece of gum on the chair of his favorite girl in class, or talking to that strange lame old man who always went fishing alone. The lame old man might be the most unpopular one in the village, although he was just sitting their fishing day after day, kids always throw trash on him or scare away his fish. Aso felt very curious about him because when he sometimes swam in the river, he saw that old man was just staring at those mountains without even caring about the fish on the hook. “Aso, stay away from that creepy old man, he is always murmuring something about the mountain. Even just talking with him can bring bad luck.” said his father. “Well, maybe that old man is just insane. I don’t want to fail in the exam.” Aso said to himself and went to help his parents with plowing the land. One day, Aso skipped the boring literature class again. Acting on a sudden impulse, he walked further and further. He had no intention of climbing up the mountain, yet he just wanted to have a look at the flowers growing at the foot of the mysterious mountain. Lying on the comfortable grassland, he gradually fell asleep. “Hey... Wake up, little boy.” He felt someone was calling him while shaking his shoulder. Aso rubbed his eyes and saw the curious face of a stranger, who is wearing weird clothes with mud on it. The weirdest thing he has was a red knitted hat, which is already brown because of the dirt. A bandage wrapped around his left ankle, where Aso could still see some exuded blood. With a confusing look, he looked up and ask:” who are you?” “I come from the other side of the mountain. I heard a village is producing grains for the whole nation, yet no one ever saw the people from this mysterious village. On the top of the mountain, I saw vast fields here. I think I’ve found the right place! So, why we never see people from here?” The only sentence Aso paid attention to was “I come from the other side of the mountain”. “You are from outside? So... the mountain is not dangerous?” “Well, on our books, that mountain is the edge of the world. No one wants to climb over it. I think I’ve already walked for more than 300 days to get here. Although nobody supported my trip, I still planned for this journey for more than 20 years and finally found a chance to escape from there. If I didn’t learn how to get fire and hunting, I would have been dead long ago.” “300 days, 20 years... what are you talking about...?” “Well, I guess I’m asking the wrong person. Can you bring me to some adults? Maybe someone that can answer my question?” “Oh, you can find the ‘descendants of the mountain’. They know everything. But it’s a little bit late, I have to go back so I might not take you there. Their house is very prominent, that red one. You see?” “Yeah. I will go there by myself. Hope to see you again.” The man with the red hat smiled to Aso and left. “Guess what! I met a man from the other side of the mountain!” “Nonsense! No one can approach that mountain! And stop saying it! The god of the mountain might be angry!” Before Aso even finished the whole story, he was scolded by his mom. In the next few days, Aso talked about this to his best friend in school. “It’s impossible,” his friend said. “Come on, the first class we learned from school is that mountain is sacred. We can’t go there. Teachers say it, families say it, the descendants of the mountain say it. It’s impossible that everyone is wrong!” “Yes! The descendants of the mountain! That stranger went to their house! They must know about it!” Aso shouted. “There’s no such person. Stop saying things outside of the mountain. The god will be angry. Go, Aso, help your parents in plowing! The next sacrifice is coming.” One of those “descendants” explained to Aso. However, before he was pushed out of the house, Aso saw that dirty red hat in the corner. Rumors spread in the country, there’s a weird blue flame appeared on the mountain several days ago. The god of the mountain may be not satisfied with the last tribute. All the people in the village began to work even harder. Soon, no one wants to listen to Aso and his “insane” story. Even his families started to avoid him. Aso was so frustrated that he went to the river alone. There he saw the lame old man again, sitting there like a rotten piece of wood. “Now that everyone thinks I’m weird, why not I talk to the weirdest person in the village?” “Hey, I know you are not actually fishing. What’s your name?” No response. “I saw a person from outside of the mountain.” Aso continued. With so terrible a shake, the old man turned around. “Really?” After hearing the whole story, the old man signed and said to Aso:” You are too naive. When I was young, quite a few people wanted to go over the mountain. Yet they didn’t manage to escape. When I was 30, I tried to pack the essentials and set off. Actually, I had no idea what’s there outside, I just didn’t believe the mystery of the mountain. “ “And then?” Aso’s eyes were filled with curiosity. “I met my brother, unfortunately. He stopped me and reported to the descendants of the mountain. They almost beat me to death. My legs became lame from then. I cannot walk for long distance anymore. Now I just sit here and wait for the miracle to come. Unfortunately, you missed one chance. But as long as I’m still living, I ‘ll be here waiting for the savers of our village.” Since then, the villagers found Aso became not that weird. He stopped talking about the “outsider”, he stopped teasing girls, he almost attended all the classes. But he was still not very willing to help his family with field works. Some people saw him drilling woods, or making arrows by himself. But no one cared about him. One day after sixty years, by the same place the lame old man sat, the afterglow of the sinking sun projected two shadows beside the river: a big one and a small one. The little boy who is in his pre-veneer days raised his cute face and looked at the wrinkled eyes. “You are Aso, right? How did you become lame?”

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Take no offense at a child's babble

I was cooking in the kitchen while my whole family is out in the living room chatting. My 5-year old child was sitting on the carpet flipping through an illustrated book reversely. That book was the birthday gift I gave him on his birthday this year. “Mommy, why in every storybook the fox always hit the bunny?” “Because the fox is bad.” My wife answered without even looking at him. She was too busy discussing with her sister about the housing price in the town. “Well, I’m considering buying another apartment near there because if Jonny can get enrolled in that best primary school, it will be easier if we live near that area.” “Ding-” the oven rings. I took on the glove and pulled out the pizza from the oven. It smells so good. I put a pan beneath it and brought it to the table. Seeing my son sitting there as if he was thinking something, I asked, “Jonny, what are you thinking?” Then, I did not pay much attention to his words and turned back to the kitchen to continue with cooking the mushroom soup. Suddenly, a huge laugh broke out in the living room. “What’s funny?” I poked my head out from the kitchen. “Sweetheart, did you hear what Jonny said just now? He said that he wants to be a fox because in that way he can always be strong and hit others.” I walked out from the kitchen and sat down on the carpet. “Jonny, you see, being bad is wrong. Most of us are actually bunny, we are kind-hearted creatures. But you can be strong even if you are a bunny, just like the ending of this book, right? In the story the small bunny became strong by her hard-work and finally became more powerful than the bad fox, isn’t it?” “Okay, daddy! Now I know, if I became stronger than those bad people, I can hit them back, just like how they treated me, right?” Another round of laughter in the house. Even if I know this is something wrong but I have to admit this thought is quite funny. I was about to explain, yet my mom stopped me. “Haha, that’s why people say,’ take no offense at a child’s babble’, isn’t it? Now go take care of your mushroom soup, I smell it’s burnt.” “Haha, you are right, children’s babbles are interesting.” I walked back to the kitchen, still thinking my son’s thought of “fighting back” was wrong.

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Happier

“You have the right to keep silent.” A tall, strong man put handcuffs on me. Before I could react, I was dragged on the police car. Last night I was drunk and alone, wandering aimlessly on the street. I don’t have much memory of what had happened. “The defendant… Are you listening?” Suddenly my mind was switched back to the court. Up there I saw the angry eyes of the judge. “This is the last time I ask you… to the charges how do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?” “Your honor, I think I’m not guilty. Here is the thing: my dog, who has accompanied me for more than ten years, has passed away on that day. Plus, I lost my job in the week before that, so that was my first day being unemployed. You see, I have totally no intention of committing this crime.” I tried my best to make up something reasonable to defend. “But your behaviors were hugely offensive to the others, and it will hurt the harmony of our society. Don’t you know that?” “Smile doesn’t equal happiness.” was my last attempt of explaining. “Or what? Do you have to shout out loud ‘I am happy’? Do you think I’m that stupid? The law is the law, you can’t be happy.” Before he sentenced me to be guilty, he played the video from CCTV one more time. In the video tears are falling down from my cheeks yet I was smiling happily to the passengers on the street. That might be the most real version of myself.

[fiiiiinny-blog]

Everyone can be anything

It’s November 20th. She dragged herself out of the gray, isolated factory — where she has been working as an assembly-line worker for the whole life. Unlike usual, she was not smiling today. This kind of mental breakdown happens to her every two or three weeks, when she just can’t think of any reason to continue her miserable life. Key into the lock. Lights on. She walked slowly to her bedroom, opened the small drawer behind the lamp. There are only 2 tablets left. This year the birth rate has risen up quite a lot, so she could only get 20 pieces of tablets from the government. She heard from the news that next year there will be even less. These red, transparent small pills have been her mental support all over life. Every time when her questions about doubting herself and this society pile up to a certain level, she will turn to these magic pills. This time she knew it would be quite struggling for her if there is only one tablet left for December, but this night is just miserable enough for her to forget about the future problems. As a sublingual pill, it has just mint taste and can keep in function for about 30 minutes. Although it’s smaller than the smallest coin, there is a sentence carved delicately on each pill— everyone can be anything. After a little hesitation, she had a sip of water, sat down on the only stool with cushion, and put the pill under her tongue. “Hello there, welcome to the wonderland. This is your second last time in this year. What do you want this time?” “I’m tired of working as an assembly-line worker, I want to quit my job, I want to be… to be… a writer! Just like that young man next door! He doesn’t have to go to that smelly factory every morning, he just sits by the window every day and thinks. That’s relaxing and satisfying! My job is just exhausting.” “Don’t worry my dear. Remember, everyone can be anything! Open that door and you’ll be a writer!” “My new life!” She shouted and ran to that glazing door. Inside the room, she saw a seat for her by the window, which is a soft, leather armchair. Beautiful sunshine rose outside the room. She sat down and relaxed, but then she noticed there’s a book on the table, with a note covering it: As a writer, here is your task today. Please finish reading Goethe's Faust by today and write a similar piece before tomorrow morning and then hand it to the printing press. With her trembling hands holding up the book she tried to read it. Somehow the music is turned on in the room, it’s a song she feels familiar with. The lyric is just the repetition of one sentence: This is a great world, only if each performs his own function. About 30 minutes later she woke up in her shabby room. “Oh my God, can’t believe this happened again. Why I wasted one more pill?” But soon a bright smile appeared on her face, she moved to the window with a brisk pace and opened her arm to embrace all the darkness and smoggy air outside. “Each performs his own function! Being an assembly-line worker is the best job in the world! I’m more than satisfied with my life!”