From: About Autumn (Beijing)

"When I looked up at the sky at a 45-degree angle on my twentieth birthday, I felt very sad, because from that moment on, I had made great strides on the road to the third grade."

I happened to see this sentence. When Huo Yan began to tell her story with such a gesture in her "Little Rabbit in August 7th", I suddenly realized that this little girl born in 1980s was really thinking about her own growth. I suddenly want to ask myself what I was doing at the age of twenty, and what I was doing at every stage of my life.

With regard to growth, young people rarely look back, and always feel that only when they are old will they be so obsessed with the past. However, Huo Yan tells us in the form of a typical humorous diary in Beijing that looking back on the past is not just the patent of the elderly. In her childhood, she told almost everything that happened every year when she was growing up. You can easily find your own shadow in it, and it is also easy to find some familiar figures and events.

Do you still remember the flower fairy and robot cat you loved to watch at that time? Do you remember that devil candy full of pigments? Do you remember the first time you knew the concept of death? Do you still remember the tears of joy when Hong Kong returned to China? Do you remember the first time you liked a boy? Do you remember the overwhelming panic rumors before the Millennium? Do you still remember the untouchable pain in the hearts of China people in 2003? Do you remember the super girl who set off the spirit of national entertainment?

Huo Yan remembers, I remember, and I think you will remember.

I remember what happened to me every year since 1987, and I know all those trivial details like the back of my hand. I remember that I often go shopping alone, up and down, and go to the shopping mall of Nuoda several times. I remember running alone often. Sometimes at night 12, I put on my sneakers and slipped into the street for about 40 minutes. I remember often going to the West Lake alone, walking to the scenic spot that will always be people, sitting on the steps, smoking for a while, and then leaving. I remember a man went to a new restaurant and ordered many strange meals that I had never eaten before. I remember a man yelling in a KTV box. I still remember a person watching a wandering teenager singing in the strong wind in the underground passage.

Looking through Rabbit's Little Age in August 7th, I watched Huo Yan tell the story of her writing, watched her participate in all kinds of affairs in the adult world alone, watched her gradually become a simple and independent little woman, and watched her "hate her comfortable life and hope it will end". I seem to be looking at myself, watching how I have replaced language with words, watching myself move from one city to another, and watching myself arrive in another completely unfamiliar field from a familiar industry.

When Huo Yan decided to give up studying cello for seven years and engage in writing, I saw the strange city where I was exiled. Cut off all possible connections with the original world, paralyze emotions with time, and zoom memories with distance. When the soul returns to clarity and truth, I step into the familiar world again, naturally take to the streets and get on the familiar bus without thinking. The surrounding scenery has not changed, and my feeling is not strange, as if I was wandering here yesterday and never left. So when I saw Huo Yan's self-challenge, I felt more cordial. Perhaps the generation after 1980 is always restless, always hoping to verify the value of their existence through various channels, and always being able to laugh confidently at their pain and suffering, because we firmly believe that "as long as we don't abandon ourselves, then no one can abandon us!"

The word idol was once our goal. I still remember the first time I found the value of words when I saw Han Han's "Peeking at Men with a Bitter Cup", so Han Han became my idol in my school days. I still have the posters and albums of Little Tiger and Jimmy Lin. Even if I want to listen to them again, I can't find the walkman I used to play. "Once upon a time, an idol was someone you would willingly chew a steamed bun for, someone you argued with your friends for, someone who hid his photo under a pillow every day and imitated his signature in a notebook. But when we grow up, no one will make us so haunted, so we no longer have idols. " Huo Yan and I silently mourned the idol of that year and recalled the simple lush years. Now you and I have lost our original feelings, lost our enthusiasm for chasing, and lost our passion and motivation for life.

Many times, you think you have forgotten the story for a long time, but it is easily found in other people's times. In fact, "Rabbit August 7th" is our childhood. It is the epitome of our growing experience and an indispensable part of our life. So short, so lonely, as gorgeous and lonely as fireworks. There is nothing new under the sun. You and I have lived for more than twenty years at once, just like the ups and downs of love will in the world, there is no difference.