The arrears of updates in January, acknowledgments for rewards, and some gossip...
The first is to report the arrears of updates.
The total number of updated words in January is 129,000 words...
Excluding the 180,000 words that were guaranteed to be updated in December, there are 51,000 new words that are owed, which is counted as 25.5 chapters.
The increased number of monthly tickets in January is 163, which counts as 2 chapters.
The total amount of rewards in January is 15.02 yuan, and there is less than one chapter to add...
Continue to sincerely thank Mr. JETYGUO, thank you!
At the end of January, it will be set at 843. According to the long-term update rules, 8 chapters will be added.
A total of 35.5 chapters have been added and owed...
After repaying the debt and counting the newly added owed chapters, there are still 382 chapters left, totaling 764,000 words.
Thank you readers for your support. Thank you very much.
......
Next, thank you for the reward:
Thank you, the reader, Mr. JETYGUO, for the 1,500 points.
Thank you, the reader, for the 2-point reward from 123.
Thank you very much! ! !
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Well...things have been going wrong recently...
My elderly parents had a quarrel over New Year greetings...
The conflict between them has existed since I was a half-grown child until today. It has been seventeen or eight years since it broke out in a very serious way.
During this period, old issues would be brought up again. Of course, most of the time they would avoid going over old scores, but in fact they were still arguing about the previous rift.
Forgive me not to say more about the specific situation, but this kind of thing has a great impact on me...
It can be regarded as my PTSD...
I can't stand the sudden sound of human voices, the kind that makes me jump with fright...
I still can't understand why they had to go down "for" me when they were at their worst... …
Thinking about it carefully, most of these words were said by my mother who made the choice to give up everything, which is a bit ironic...
(Of course, my mother did not succeed, but that was because my father broke The glass cut my hand. I wanted to wash my hands and waited for a long time but couldn't open the door, so I forced the locked door of the bathroom open without success...)
(I actually had a confrontation with my parents about writing a book. For a long time...
In the year I graduated from university, I had actually found a job in the city where the university was located.
The salary and benefits had been negotiated at that time. A series of questions, only the final step is to sign the contract
Then...I returned home at the request of my parents...
Thinking about it now, I should have refused at that time.
Going home is not a nice thing for me... I haven't really liked going home since I was in school.
It’s just that I had nowhere to go at that time...so I had to go back "home".
Okay, I have to put "home" in quotation marks.
My parents were workers. Some time before and after that incident, I left the factory, which was not very prosperous. I remember that I bought out my seniority. (It happened a little bit ago, and I don’t remember it clearly. As for the factory where they worked, it disappeared more than ten years ago. Now it has been completely demolished and built into a new residential area.)
I want to say this because I lived in a "store" most of the time when I was growing up.
It is normal for laid-off workers to be re-employed...
It’s just that the living environment is mostly not very good.
When the first store opened, a family of three lived in a space of 50 to 60 square meters.
More than a third of them are shelves... The living space is pitifully cramped...
The business was pretty good at that time... At least when my parents were in the Cold War, my mother took me to work in the store. Business was pretty good.
Then my father finally came after making trouble once...
So the business became sluggish... My father was not an easy person to deal with.
At least not a person suitable for doing business.
During that time, my father successfully stopped many "big" clients from coming to my "home"...
By the way, he also succeeded in messing up relations with neighbors... Now that I think about it, I feel a bit gnashing of teeth. Emotions...
There is also a basement of about ten square meters in the store, and this basement is my bedroom and kitchen...
What I can remember now is probably the dim light. And the bedding that is always damp, and the camp bed...
And a large pack of matches I bought in order to light a cigarette without hearing the sound of the lighter...
Well, of course they know that I smoke... After all, how can I not smell smoke when I can smell even a fart in such a small place?
It's bad, I should say it's bad enough... This is worse than the feeling of sleeping in the basement corridor of someone else's unit when I was working...
(I am a bachelor's degree... I have successfully completed my studies, and I don’t have to worry about anything...)
At least I won’t hear quarrels in the basement of other people’s units...
Nor from the basement. There were random sounds at the window where I couldn't even stretch my arm out...
It's quite sad. At that time, I almost clung to all good intentions.
Even the pity of others is regarded as the light in life... It still feels ridiculous when I think about it now, but it is unforgettable...
Although I talked about a lot of painful experiences back then... But I still have to say that my parents are competent in treating me. I grew up with no worries about food and clothing...
They also "care" for me in their own way,
I am equally grateful for my parents' love, and I am determined to give my best to support my parents.
But I still have to say that my ability to use morality as the bottom line of my behavior is not influenced by my parents...
After all, the conflict between them was caused by one party's immorality...
< br>But what can I say?
At this time, keep mentioning things from that year?
That is too cruel, not only for me, but also for my parents...
I have to thank my junior high school teachers...perhaps all the good luck I had when I was young was spent meeting those teachers.
Of course I am not the kind of child with good grades. Maybe some people can study hard in a situation where they can't even take a bath and have to be hated because of the smell...
But I'm not...
Fortunately, we were still innocent at that time... I also have good friends.
Even today we are still good friends. Although we don’t see each other a few times a year, that is due to objective factors...
I couldn't study well in that situation, but this can probably be forgiven... At least I am still a kind child, not crooked...
Thank you to the teachers I met...< br>
(Except for the third class teacher in high school! There was a new class teacher in high school. The second class teacher was very responsible. If she was not teaching in the school where I am, she might have a better life.
< br>But she didn't get the love of the students... It's a pity. In order to maintain the dignity of her class teacher, she kept too far away from the students.
This was after I was a teacher for a period of time a few years ago. Just realized it.
As for why I no longer work as a teacher, it’s because the pressure is too great...
The feeling that no matter how much I do, I still feel that I haven’t done enough is tormenting me...
So I am sending I resigned after one class of students... I am still worried that I gave them too little help back then... And my third class teacher in high school, I still think she is not normal... Although it is a little bit It's too much, but that's what I really think...
Moody...self-righteous...don't even understand what to do as a teacher.
Which teacher would call a student who smokes in class to take a photo to show off? I've only met her!
Absolutely ridiculous! That's ridiculous!
As for her withholding diplomas from students after graduation and asking students to come to her home to collect them, I am not as angry as the previous incident...
What she did was simply not too meaningful. I understand... I went to her house to receive my graduation certificate just because I wanted a "gift"...
So I didn't go to receive it, that's just my temper... But I got the admission notice from the university no matter what. Books, naturally you don’t need a high school diploma to prove your academic qualifications...
But what I know is that there are classmates who never received their diplomas...)
Well, children in junior high schools will always develop the purest love... Forget it, I can’t skip this. I mentioned it, and now I think about it, there is nothing but regret... maybe there is also a little pain of not being able to ask for it...
The teachers I met in junior high school were very strict, but I was always full of feelings for them. Thanks.
Because their severity has nothing to do with tyranny... Their severity is full of kindness...
That is the kind of kindness I have hoped for countless times in my dreams. ...Well, I didn’t lack love while growing up.
Although not all of this love comes from my parents...
They have no pity for me, but pure kindness.
They properly maintained my self-esteem as a child and protected everything I had as a child.
I still can’t forget it...
(Of course I was beaten by the teacher... and the beating was not light... There is also my name and three and a half Chinese characters on the desk of the head teacher ……
Every time I make a mistake, I go to the office and write it down...
But even if my hands are swollen and I can't pick up things, my heart is still warm... Although it's a bit strange to say this, but in fact it is like this...)
It seems that I have talked too much about my past...
Let’s talk about the recent past...
My father has a bad temper, or a very bad temper...< br>
Over the years, his salary has rarely been used at home, and my mother and I don’t know where he has spent it...
But during the four years I was in college, my expenses and My father paid all the tuition fees.
As for the matter of supporting the family, I shouldn't say anything more. That is a problem between my father and my mother.
This is probably one of the reasons why my mother is dissatisfied with my father...
My father is a person who gets angry because others make him angry.
And the target of his anger was always his family... I still remember his ferocious expression when he picked up a very strong square stool and threw it at me, as if I had ruined his life... < br>
Maybe without me, he and my mother would have other choices in life...
That stool is very strong. My grandfather hired a carpenter to make it. The stool is probably older than I am older... Even now, the stool is still very strong... I can stand on it, which is 1.82 meters tall and 190 pounds this year, and stick Spring Festival couplets firmly...
However, in fact, I was It's just that I came home more than an hour late...
And I just spent the time walking slowly on the street, because I hated going back to that "home" where I had no personal space at all... …
This kind of thing doesn't happen only after conflicts break out at home...
Even when I was younger and disturbed his play, I would occasionally be punished...but at that time he would still attack. It counts...
At least I won't get hurt or anything...
(Being angered is not something that only happens on my father's side. It's not uncommon on my mother's side either. .
But this should be a mistake that parents make... After all, parents do not need to take any parent qualification certificate...
I understand that no one is perfect.
But I really can’t forget that critical attack on the square bench. It’s even hard to find an excuse to convince myself to forget...)
I can now understand what he was feeling at that time. Pressure, after all, not to mention the uproar in my family at that time, it was considered a social death of my father in front of all my relatives...
But for this matter, I understand, I understand, I forgive, I forgive... …
I can never mention it again, but don’t expect me to forgive you when you talk about it...
I can understand that my mother resents my father... After all, no matter how much resentment you have to force a person to make such a choice, it is justified...
As for my father's resentment towards my mother, , I can't understand...
Although "home" has come to mean home over the years... I can't do anything about the conflict between them.
When facing the conflict between them, I seemed to be the same helpless child who could only stare blankly at the mess and pool of blood everywhere.
I was so scared that I didn’t even dare to cry loudly...
This is probably true PTSD...
My parents successfully made me afraid of marriage...
The reason is very simple, because I found that my personality is somewhat similar to that of my father.
And I have personally experienced all the harm caused by this kind of personality...
So I probably chose the stupidest approach, which is "There is no end without a beginning." ”……
In this case, I probably won’t have the process of hurting others...
From the beginning to the end, I just hope that I won’t hurt others. It would be better if I can avoid being hurt by others...
When I look back, it’s hard to recall the face of the girl who was waiting under the tree.
No one will always wait in place...
But some things cannot disappear, maybe they will stay with you until you enter the coffin, and then be buried deep with yourself...
Ah...because I've been talking about a lot of family matters lately.
Although I feel like I shouldn’t tell you this at this time to make everyone feel bad...
But this story is more than 3,000 words long, so I am somewhat reluctant to delete it.
Just post it for everyone's reference...
The lives of happy people seem to be the same, but the lives of miserable people are miserable in their own way...
If you encounter anything unhappy, please remember that there is still an unlucky guy like me who is working hard to live.
Frustration will leave traces, and suffering is not worthy of praise.
But after suffering, you have to keep moving forward no matter what.
Maybe one day if I am unlucky enough, I can meet another person who gives me the courage to face all difficulties?
Life continues and breathing has not stopped.
At least I can look forward to tomorrow.
……
……
Thank you readers for wasting a little time to read my ramblings.
Thank you!
The author looked south and paused!
(End of this chapter)