Personal experience: riding a greyhound in America feels like a blow.

I left in such a hurry that many people didn't have time to inform me. Please forgive me, brother. After a long journey, I finally came to California from Texas and started my arduous journey of electronic music. To say this bitterness is really unambiguous. At first, it was a blow, but I didn't get the sweetness for three days. Let's talk about my greyhound trip first.

Greyhound bus is a long-distance transportation system between major cities in America. It looks like a bus, driving on the highway day and night. Because of its low price, most passengers are as poor as me. This is my first ride on Greyhound. Although I have long heard of its notoriety, my personal experience has not disappointed me. First of all, it was late, five hours late, which made my friend wait in vain; Then I was tired. When I changed trains, I had to carry my own luggage. Five big packages each weigh 50 kilograms. I turned around step by step, cold sweat, blue veins stood out, and Halazi flowed all over the floor.

Later, it was dark. The Mexican who sat with me had no choice but to steal the handbag of the girl in front of me. Although he looks stupid, in fact he is even more stupid. He kept glancing at me at first, forcing me to pretend to sleep. After some psychological struggle, I secretly kicked her chair to wake her up and prevent the scandal from succeeding. Finally, in Phoenix, we finally parted ways. Unfortunately, he blackmailed me at least twice before we broke up. Then I got sleepy. They didn't sleep well at night.

A Mexican woman traveling with her eight children spent the whole journey crying and quarreling. Those children are really playing with each other, one after another, and the patterns are endless. Mother watched, very calm, while cracking melon seeds, from one scolding to eight, only saying no; Finally, my unfortunate road reached its climax in the Mexican border city of El PASO. We had to wait there for five hours because of the delay of the previous flight. At this time, several border guards, wearing uniforms, asked to check my identity. Then I made a phone call and claimed that I was no longer on the list of INS, which was illegal detention. According to the law, I must detain me in the immigration office until there is further evidence to prove that I can stay legally, otherwise I must be deported.

Finally, I forgot how they let me go. My memory is blank, only that hot sunny afternoon and my cold mood.

At least in San Francisco, my new life came suddenly, and it was indiscriminate and mixed. This freshness will turn yellow before I wake up. Now living in Berkeley, about 20 people live in a villa with local China students. Sometimes stretching in the aisle can get people out of bed if they are not careful. No privacy at all. I started to work in the second day of junior high school, and worked as a handyman in China Mathematics School dozens of miles away from my place of residence. I spend four hours on the road every day. When I got home, I first found a pillow, not to mention surfing the internet, and I didn't even have time to sneeze.

As expected, the Bay Area is very different from Texas, which is a comparison between the two countries. But you can't expect other cities in America to be fresh. Except new york, Chicago and other big cities, the whole United States is like that. I'm afraid the cities in Texas are still quite typical. Comparatively speaking, Texas is like a big fellow, with thick lines and a shortage of land. His style is simple and direct, and he never beats around the bush. And San Francisco is like a woman, even an Asian woman. Everything is a little small. There are many kinds of downtown customs. Many people are crowded and sundry goods are everywhere. Especially the weather here is greasy all day, like a little girl who loses her temper. The downtown area of San Francisco stood there in shame, letting the benzene-heavy Bay Bridge go straight through the soles of your feet and be calm. The sea here is mixed and swallowed, and it is unclear. Relatively speaking, Berkeley is a little more brilliant. Flowers seem to grow in all directions, regardless of occasions and places, bravely accompanying dirty corners and homeless people.

Rock music? I haven't heard of it. The Bay Area, the freest and most open place in the United States, was once the cradle of hippies in the 1960s, the soil for the birth of the Beat Generation, the most active stage for rock music to represent jimi hendrix, janis joplin and jim morrison when they became famous, and the reason why Lou Reed was shut out of the market forever. It is also the gay capital of the United States and a gathering place for anti-culture and anti-government. Now I'm afraid these past glories can only be used for nostalgia, but don't jump to conclusions. After all, I just came here, and I hope I can learn more in the future.

The temperament of the city, I can feel so much for the time being. It can be said that most of my impressions were obtained in the subway. I like the subway. It divides the street view of the Bay Area into horizontal flashbacks with the windows in the carriage, which is a bit like a movie film. I wonder what kind of story will happen.