童年的我的母校叫寂寞。成人后依旧有一片静而有些寒凉的影子趴在内心一角,独自的时候就来覆盖我,作一个文静的游戏。这使我的母校迥异于其它学堂。童年的故事几乎没有,抑或是寂寞无声的教育将那些喧闹的云彩淡化了。我最早的片断记忆就是关于寂寞。一个远亲死了,全家去参加葬礼,父母担心那种死亡的气患吓着三岁多的我而将我关在了房里。对着满屋子的空荡我哭了一个下午,想起来那并非与死人争宠,而是对寂寞最初的一种不接受态度吧。 My alma mater called lonely childhood. After the adults still have a static and some cool shadow lying in the inner corner, alone when I came to cover, for a quiet game. This makes my alma mater quite different from other schools. Almost no childhood story, or lonely silent education will be those noisy clouds down. My earliest piece of memory is about loneliness. A distant relative died, the family went to the funeral, the parents worried about the death of the gas scared three-year-old me and I locked in the room. I was crying out for an afternoon full of empty houses, remembering that it was not a petition for the dead, but an unacceptable attitude toward loneliness.