我想说些掉渣的故事,它们普普通通,没有光环,没有色彩,或许撩拨不到你心底的柔软。但我想说出来,它们像泥土一样在时光里不紧不慢地发酵。我想起小时候家里盖的土坯房,挖来些泥,合成稀糊状,加些草茎,用模子脱胎成土基,砌成我小小的围城,任岁月的烟火对它烟熏火燎,黑漆漆地,像老祖母的牙齿,像爷爷烟锅里掏出的烟屎。《妮妮会说话》是多个场景的组合。那天是要去购个什么东西还是去访个什么朋友我忘了。 I would like to talk about the story of dross, they are common, there is no aura, no color, perhaps no tease your soft bottom. But I want to say it, they are the same as the soil in the time of fermentation. I remembered when I was a little boy, I dug adobe houses, dug some mud, synthesized thin paste, added some grass stems, and dug into soil-based molds to build my little siege, where the years of fireworks smoked it, Dark, like the old grandmother’s teeth, like Grandpa smoke pot pulled out of the shit. Nini can speak is a combination of multiple scenes. What day is going to buy something or visit a friend I forgot.