The first toy I had was a red car, less than a foot long. The iron rolled shell was very simple. There were several windows but no doors. I saw a wheel of inertia from the window and put the rear wheel in the window. Ground friction can run “AOAO-“. I can still hear the sound of it now. I don’t remember how it left me. Sometimes I imagine where it is now, or what it is now and where it exists.

But I remember how it came. That can be described as double happiness, the mother will take me to play in the North Sea, and said that I want to buy a car like that. When my mother buckled the button on my neckline, I remember that my heart was full of solemnity; before and after that, I didn’t know that there were more wonderful and extravagant toys in the world than the car. In front of the North Sea Gate, I couldn’t see the shadow of the East. I remind my mother: Do you really want to buy me a car? The mother said, “Well, you are standing here waiting, don’t move, I will come back later.” The mother walked into the row of old houses next to it. I stood looking a few meters away from the old house, maybe from that moment, the rows of old houses with green doors and windows, red beams and tall, very tall blue-gray steps, I will never die. memory. Standing alone for a while, I suddenly realized that it was a shop, and I might have bought a car in it. I walked over and climbed the very high steps. There were a lot of people in the house, and there were legs everywhere. I tried to get through the crowded legs and approached the counter, but every time I failed, I just saw the counter and was squeezed by those legs. Those legs are basically blue and do not have long eyes. I bumped around in the blue whirlpool, and finally I noticed that I was standing outside the store.

I don’t see my mother, I don’t think I’m still standing in the original place. I climbed down the very high steps and looked at the green doors and windows and the red beams. In a blink of an eye, the mother did not know where it came from, holding the car in her hand. I have touched it for the first time, only to see that it has several decent windows but no doors. I am not disappointed at all, just a second of doubt and a few years later. Imagine how it should have a door. I am an easy child, and I don’t think it’s just a joy to hold that car. I asked: “Hey, why can’t he still come out?” The mother squinted and looked at the high steps of the store with my gaze, then smiled and said, “No, I didn’t come.” “I don’t want to give it to me.” Buy?” “Yes, I bought it for you.” “But he didn’t come?” “He gave me the money, let me buy it for you.” I understand this, I said, “Is it.” Money, is it right for you to buy it for me?” “Yes.” “Why are you saying that you bought it for me?” “The money you gave me is what you bought.” I was confused again: But he didn’t come to him how to buy it?” Most of the time in Beihai that day, my mother explained to me why this car was bought for me. I don’t understand, no matter how my mother explains it, I can’t understand it. Even in the next few years, I am still stubborn and stubborn. Every time someone asks that little

Yes, that row of houses: green doors and windows, red pillars, very high blue-gray steps. I will never forget. One of Whitman’s poems has such a paragraph: “There is a child walking forward day by day/he sees the original thing, he tends to that thing/so that thing becomes part of him, on that day, or In a certain part of that day, it has continued for several years, or several years of stretching, which have been formed for several years.” That is the case, the row of old houses became part of me. Many years later, when my mother and the car have left me, when childhood became a precious memory, I tried to look at the old house several times. But very strange, I can’t find it. It is left alone in my impression, green doors and windows, red beams and columns and high steps… but no orientation, no background, all around it is void. I am no longer looking for it. The row of houses in space may have been demolished, and for years it has only existed in my time as part of me.

But one day I suddenly found it. In fact, I walked by it many times, but I never thought it might be it. Its steps are so short that I never put it in my heart. But that day I went to the North Sea again, and stopped by it in front of it. I saw a three- or four-year-old child crawling up the steps. He struggled to climb and even use his hands and feet. I suddenly realized that I have forgotten one of the simplest logics for so many years: That step does not grow taller as I grow taller. Then I looked at it carefully. Green doors and windows, right, red pillars and blue-gray steps, yes, it is, reason tells me that it should be it. The heart is hot, and the boundless past is coming. I decided that God would retreat a few meters, and I believe that I will retreat to the position of the year and look at it as I did in the past. But the longer it looks, the more unfamiliar it is, the farther it is in front of it. From then on, the row of houses was divided into two parts, which became two parts of me, very different or even completely different parts. So, if I write it, which one should I follow? I began to think: What is the truth. If I have been watching it for decades, I will definitely divide it into three parts of my life.

So what is true, especially when it comes to objective reality?

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