For the past twenty-seven years, I have always dreamed that one day I would become a woman as gentle and gentle as jade. When people mention me, they will think of me wearing a hemp-colored coarse cloth, with long hair falling quietly on my shoulders in the sun, and always holding a copy of "Jet Lag Believer" in my hand, which I can never finish reading.
But in fact, compared to a few years ago, I still resemble this image now. At least my heart is soft and my mouth is sweet. But you must know that the torment of time on a woman is terrible. In addition, if you are good at summarizing, you will always generalize every time you encounter something. So if I have a daughter, I will protect her from the world until she gets married, because women are the most beautiful and happiest when they don't understand anything.
In many things, I always regard myself as a wounded child. On the surface I tell others that I am democratic, but in my heart I am unforgivable. Over time, I was stimulated by too many contradictions, so I hid alone in the house left by my grandma, rode to and from get off work every day, washed and cooked, and lived a life that had nothing to do with the wind and clouds.
But after so many years, no matter where I escape, I still worry about little things and do the childish things I did ten years ago.