When did you realize that you were no longer a young man?

1 When did you realize that you were no longer a young man?

A song blaring blare blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. I asked my colleagues in the company, and they all looked at me with disgust: long hair is not easy!

I remembered that someone sent a circle of friends yesterday: "Unexpectedly, the reading volume of Chow Yun Fat in this issue hit a record low." Another friend replied, "Our reading of Stephen Chow is just so-so. Now after 90 s and 00 s, I don't know much about their cow force. "

A little unconvinced, I turned on the MV called "Into the Sea", and time suddenly went back: on the day after school, I took the school bus to the railway station and looked at my classmates running outside the window. They cried faster than me, and it was a little dark ... It took several years to realize how difficult it was for the sky to fall, my Lord.

In 2002, I first met someone who told me that life was not easy in old-fashioned language. That's 22-year-old Yao Ming. That year, I was still in southern sports. Because the Shanghai Shark Club didn't want Yao Ming to go to the NBA, it gave him $30 million in compensation. At that time, Yao Ming's annual salary in CBA was only 700,000 RMB.

Memory, like the headlights of a car, suddenly lit up his expression at that time: (the tall man) seemed to raise his head. He never looked young, but at that moment he was a sad young man.

Now I catch a glimpse of Yao Ming on TV from time to time. He is like a giant statue standing on the national mall. It's hard not to notice him. But I am often surprised, as if I am not the person I knew at the beginning.

Yao Ming, Kobe, Jay Chou ... In fact, looking back, if you want to record those faded names, many things are different.

Who in my generation, including myself, has not been crushed by the wheel of the times?

Ban Cao of our university once recalled: "I remember that you always wore clothes that were too dark to see people (in fact, because you were fat), holding a stack of books, hunching your back, and hanging your hair to your face, and walking on the way to the library like a fat shadow."

Paul auster, my favorite writer, has similar descriptions in The Moon Palace and The Phantom Book: When life is on the verge of despair, the protagonist either destroys himself like a beggar or gets involved in wanton promiscuity-he runs amok in this absurd world and retaliates himself with physical madness to get a so-called disillusionment pleasure.

Perhaps this is a kind of youth ignorance.

At that time, I ate a lot and often didn't go to the classroom for self-study at night. Instead, I choose to sit in the dormitory, light candles and immerse myself in endless gluttony. My body is my cage, as if only through such imprisonment can I vaguely feel the "safety" in life.

I also want to find someone to love. One night, I got up the courage and went to the school teacher with a letter. It seems that he is the most qualified person in this school to accept my confession.

What did he say? what did i say? Everyone seems a little confused. It was not until the second week after that day that he paired up with girls from another class in our grade in the canteen, breaking his so-called excuse of not looking for alumni. I didn't understand anything until later.

What can you understand? That year, Chongqing Evening News published numerous job advertisements. Love is just a short-lived luxury trick for me. I draw lines in the newspaper every day. Today, I feel that I am suitable for being an administrative clerk, tomorrow I feel that I am suitable for being an assistant manager, and the day after tomorrow I feel that I am suitable for insurance. ...

Going to Jie Fangbei, Qixinggang and Shapingba again and again, the students in the dormitory smiled and said, "Are you applying for a professional household now?"

I dragged them along, and they were rejected every time-they all had Chongqing hukou, Chongqing parents or Chongqing connections, and they were already ready to work as civil servants or foreign companies.

One day, I was walking on the road with a sad face when the graduate director stopped me and smiled and told me to introduce me to a job. Before that, the most favored student in her grade was recommended by her to be a translator in the Foreign Affairs Office. I think I looked stunned at that time.

I didn't know it was a cruise ship until the day of the interview. The job she recommended to me was a waiter.

It is very hot in summer. I stood in front of the teaching building, and the students upstairs cheered. The quotation they get may be a big company. One shouted too high and roared past my head like a bullet.

I feel completely useless in this dazzling sunshine.

Last night, I dreamed that I was at an altitude of 10,000 meters. Through The Great Gatsby, I clearly saw the green light written by Fitzgerald in the distance ("He stretched out his arms to the dark sea, which was really strange. Although I was far away from him, I could swear that he was trembling. I can't help looking at the sea-I can't see anything except a green light, which is small and far, maybe the end of a dock ... ") The adjustable window of Boeing's new model shows that everything on the earth seems to be clear at a glance without cloud cover.

In the noisy 1920s in America, poor boy Fitzgerald became a veritable "golden boy". He created a true myth that a short story is worth four thousand dollars, and then a few hundred dollars is enough to own a good car. After reading The Great Gatsby, T.S. Eliot, who has always been reserved and steady, even asserted that Fitzgerald's novel was "the first step of American novel since Henry James". At that time, his suitcase and his wife's suitcase were open every day, and they went to the reception of European and American giants and became the spokesmen and idols of young people of that era.

From 65438 to 0929, the United States and the whole world fell into the Great Depression, and Fitzgerald's golden age quietly passed away. His novel Tender is the Night was published in 1934 and received a cold reception. Alcoholism has become the only way for writers to escape from life, and it has also squandered the only remaining genius. The bad habit of often defaulting on manuscripts and untimely writing style led magazines and newspapers to stop contributing to him. Fitzgerald never got rich again. Neither the Great Gatsby nor his last novel Tender is the Night has become a bestseller.

Not every young man has experienced casual success, but every young man has experienced the friction of his face being pressed to the ground to some extent. Fitzgerald's words in The Great Gatsby, "We struggled to paddle and fight the waves, but we were finally washed back into our past"-I think this is his starting point as a great writer.