First：

        This is the first erotic film I have ever seen. In my limited memory, I only remember the plot of the story is that a policewoman sneaks into the underground organization to investigate, in order to track down the leader of the illegal pornographic video website and is finally set up by the bad guys to bind the trick. In this movie, bondage is a big deal, three women are all tied up at the same time, and extreme pornography is the biggest attraction.

        But I think the best part is at the end, where the man points to the ringleader of the illegal porn video site, and across the screen are Internet users. There are men, there are women, there are old people, there are children. In this day and age, everyone is a murderer. The end of the movie made me feel that this is not just a porn film, there will be a market where there is demand, which made me think of the dark web.

        The dark web is like a parallel universe in my dream, learning Spanish to lock in Latin America. My interest in Latin America comes from the drug lords and the sexual openness. I'm not gay or carnal. I told the fortune teller my birth date. I wanted to know when I would get married. He said when I'm 23, if my marriage fails at 23, I can only wait until I'm 28. I do not trust his words, I prefer to use fortune telling as a psychological consultation and comfort.

       Next year when I'm 23, I ask the Latin American man. "Will you marry me? Next year." It was a long time before he replied, and in the intervening time I had ruled out his consent. He said he had given it some serious thought and he thought it was all right.

       Hell is everywhere, I'm just afraid of being talked about by people around me after I get married. The short-haired catlike man liked to drink, and I told him I would make a green hallucinogen with a fennel flavor. If he wants, he can come to my house next time and go into the alien space with me. The next time I saw him, he was drunk and looked at me. He tried to kiss me for the first time, but I dodged. "Am I in a dream or in reality? I can't tell the difference between reality and dream," I muttered. He took my hand and told me he was real.

       I was always paranoid. I hugged him and tried to keep him in my house. He said he would come back. "You're lying," I yelled at him.

       But this time he didn't lie to me. He took me by the hand in the evening, across the concrete between the rivers, while his parents sat on the sofa. That woman should be his mother, smiling at me, I am afraid to talk to middle-aged women. Without saying a word, he leaned over him, holding his hand, trying to feel safe. I told his mother, "do you mind if I live in a single-parent family?" .

       She still smiled at me: "mind." I told him that I was real, but that I had too much to hide to keep me real. Look up at me, look into my eyes, I don't even have the courage, I always run away. He gave me a ring to wear on my fourth finger.

       He and I live together, the ring ring is too big, always easy to slip off. I put the ring in the snake's body, she always likes to spit out the tongue to me, when I kissed him for the first time, is also tongue around tongue. Then I sat on the bed and put my ear to his heart. The snake swam over his cold body, twisting its s-shaped shape and looking very charming.

       Let's make a video of sex, I told him. Normal people kept away from me. They always liked to taunt me and drive me to the morgue. I hate to be tied down by morality and ethics. It's suffocating. When I opened my eyes, the sun stung my eyes, covered them with my right hand, and looked at the clock on the wall. It was 11:44. I happily said to my neighbor, "I'm married to the man who looks like a shorthair cat."

       "What time？"

       "Yesterday"

       "I only saw you come home alone yesterday."

       The painter closed the door, and I stood motionless in the corridor. I didn't kill anyone. When I saw him, I just made a sex video with him. He closed the door, walked into the bedroom, and came back to me, this time like a cat in a bathtub, motionless. He seemed to smile at me. I plucked the wild rose that was still alive, sprinkled its petals over his belly button, and dropped the snake into the water with him.

        I don't like that painter at all. He always likes to cheat me on purpose by turning the diamond ring on his right ring finger. I look at him and smile happily.

       "You know what I like best?" I asked him

       "You like me best"

       "I like flowers and snakes."

       "And now you," I added.

Second：

       I didn't like the smell of her perfume, and I only noticed by chance that she began to wear perfume and make up and choose clothes carefully. But I don't like old women, like her.

       She was in her thirties and had never been in love or married. When I first saw her, I looked like a passer-by from an old Hong Kong drama from the 1990s. I didn't like her very much at first. Her aura scared me. I used to joke to people, "she looks just like my mother." My mother is a very strong person and selfish and stupid.

       In the first half of my life, ling ling, the woman who beat luo zijun, is not very attractive, but the men she works with think she is an angel. This was her second job, and she was unaware of the change in her relationship, acting like a little girl as if spring had come. I didn't want to have anything to do with her, but she became an interloper in my life.

       My work was reorganized, and I couldn't tell the difference between reality and dreams at that time. The only way to sleep well is to lie in bed, listen to my heartbeat, and remember in my ears "Lch Liebe Dich".

       When I woke up, it was already 7:28, at which point I would be late for work. I hated going to the office, my job was reorganized, she was in charge of the projects, and then she took my place in meetings and networking. Nine months after she left her job, she asked me to do her a small favor by taking her to the hospital for a routine urine test. After sending me pictures of cats, I told her I didn't like living objects.

       I have never been able to understand the way in which the white moonlight in the relationship is destroying the weak relationship, she has been away for a long time. I live in her shadow, and sensitivity is sometimes a good thing, like making me aware of a lot of things that are not known. I suspect that he likes her, at least in some way, so much so that he can say to me, "I can't understand why you have such bad intentions towards her. I don't think she's a bad person."

       I had always thought he was the best person for the job. I will be loyal to him and love my work. I don't like rough relationships. The woman at the company was trying to revolutionize and revolt. I smile happily of say to him: "rightness, but you can put me how?" The closest thing this woman had to my mother was stupidity. She swore to report the company's secrets to the press. In my thinking concept also taboo these moves.

        "If only you had been so mature." he looked at her in an indulgent tone. I just thought it was funny, and I made sure in my heart that he was no longer my benefactor, that I would not be loyal and kind to him. I wanted to set fire to his house. I knew his address, and I knew who lived in his house.

        After she left, my work was a mess, I was isolated and imprisoned, and I felt what it was like during the cultural revolution. If I had been in that age, I think I would have killed myself a thousand times, I was too weak and afraid of trouble. She was next to me when I had my first panic attack, and I certainly didn't tell them I was schizophrenic.

       I didn't try to turn a normal person into a psychopath, and I didn't want to peer into her world or share my time. I am glad that I am finally no longer bullied, at night will hate to gnash teeth, the bad guys picked up and beat a meal, and then with a knife to skin them, cut the meat into pieces and Fried. After gnashing my teeth, I think I'm hungry, and then I miss the taste of the steak.

       I had a new hairstyle, dark curly hair, and moved to a new house. When I left, I held the arm of the short-haired man and told him that I wanted to see him again. He promised me a lot of things, but he didn't do any of them. The only thing he did was to come to my house and sit quietly with me. I wanted to make a candlelit dinner and get him drunk, but now I have sleeping pills that I can use to make him fall asleep and never wake up.

       If she wasn't so stupid, I wonder where she and he are going. But I hate farce more than anything else. Not noticing her arrival made me lose my mind, not even her own. Later I asked, "are you still on the right track?" He apologized to me. I won't accept it. Sorry is the last thing on my mind. When I don't think about it anymore, I'm sorry, no doubt, to drag me into the whirlpool again and drown.

        I never liked to compete for other people's goods, when I was deciding whether to leave and leave her. I have never been so dark. She always likes to exude negative energy in front of me and criticize the formalism of the company. I told the cfo what she said. I knew he would be angry, but he wouldn't trust me. He called us together and said goodbye. I said nothing. It was the first time I had ever played an adult game, and I was following and breaking the rules. Later, when he asked me if I felt good, I told him I was still good, but not weak.

       In the days that followed, being isolated and imprisoned drove me crazy, and when I thought the end was near, she lived in his thoughts. I kept a pot of flowers in my office, watered it with hot water every morning, and she died within a week. The thing that everyone remembers most is the metaphor of his life. If you can not break this metaphor, life again, will also be in the fog.

       The first time Antong and I met was when we woke up at 2:30 a.m., she had her hair cut short like mine. Push the table to the window, then set the western dishes. I looked at her and she looked at me with a smile on her face. She told me that it was Saturday and that she would cook the steak in the evening, light the candles and have dinner with me.

        Sometimes I think about who is the intruder in my life, but maybe I break into their life and become someone else's nightmare.

        "He may be a good ghost," Antong told me, and I always suspected there was a man in my house. I couldn't see him, but I could hear his breathing and the sound of walking by my bed at night from my bedroom door. I bought a knife and put it by my bed. Apparently tired of the mess, I said to him, "I hope you rot in hell."