偶然间看见的一篇日志，转载过来，８０后有这么夸张么，没觉得么！

 

 

女人是上帝的赐予，为了使这个世界不至寂寞，女人一茬一茬的推陈出新，比地里的韭菜还快。转眼间，80年代女已届适婚年龄。作为一名生于70年代的男子，我要说，我坚决不娶80年代女子。

▲80年代的女孩子们，几乎都是独生女。独生女们从小就被惯着宠着，天生的以自我为中心，举手投足间莫不透出一股王者之霸气。哦，买糕的，你是想娶老婆还是想娶女王？

▲关于80年代女子的独特风格，可以举一个简单的例子来说明。同样是在大学舞上，70年代出生的女生们羞怯得像一只小鹿，心神不宁的等待着男生的邀请；而80年代出生的女生们摇身一变成了猎人，看中哪位男生就主动出击，毫不迟疑。我行我酷，是她们的行事法则；爱了就爱了，是她们的口头禅（后面还有一句“做了就做了”，且按下不表）。到了毕业的时候，她们不再执手相看泪眼，而是婉转轻扬古得白，拍拍翅膀就寻找另一片天空去了。

▲她们以“新新人类”相标榜，其实只是因为自我意识过强，但还不懂得怎样恰如其分的表现自己，所以往往出人意表。大学期间就不可以征婚吗？不可以吗？真的不可以的话，那就征友吧，反正谁也没想真的结婚不是？小背包要挎在屁股后面，走起路来背包上的各种小动物随着背包一颠一颠。露脐装最好是一年四季都穿着，年轻没有什么不可以，对不对？至于吸烟喝酒，那就更加不在话下。这样也好，没点酒量别指望能灌倒她们。

▲享乐主义是自我中心的另一种表现，寅吃卯粮对她们而言没有什么可奇怪的。只要财力方面没问题，她们总能紧跟巴黎纽约的脚步。享乐就这样简化为享受名牌。其实仔细想想，这只不过是想用钱来证明自己而已。她们所标榜的个性，如此苍白。同样，她们的思想也是那么的似是而非。后现代是她们的最爱，可是你随便去大街上找一位80年代的女孩子，问她什么叫后现代，如果她能说得清楚的话，我就输你一块钱。

▲生于80年代，她们的成长与市场经济同步，因而她们从小就学会用经济学武装自己的头脑。找工作的时候，她们很精明的往外企挤。是啊，工作不好找，不信你去招聘会上看看，哪个外企前面不是靓女如云？但也正因此，推销术才显得如此重要。所以她们在求职的时候也别出心裁，随简历奉送写真集。她们中的佼佼者，像小鸟一样在外企之间跳来跳去。然而她们也深知好景不长在，在外企做白领，也算是吃青春饭，不充电不行，于是参加各种各样的学习班，基本上是流行什么考什么。这样做的好处是手里有一大堆证，用以增加自己的就业资本。至于究竟学到了什么，谁会在乎呢？

▲参加这类学习班的另一个好处就是可以顺便钓个金龟婿，参加这样的学习班的男士，要么是青年才俊，要么是事业有成，这种人平时不太好找，学习班里倒是满坑满谷，随便挑一个都是上上签。至少在她们眼里，我这样的是属于下下签的，如果不发生奇迹－－比如说世界上只剩下我一个男人－－她们是不会考虑俯就的，因而我也乐得说一句，坚决不娶80年代女子。

▲倒不是我吃不到葡萄说葡萄酸，80年代女孩子有什么好？她们看完野蛮女友之后只记得野蛮，却忘记了女友二字；她们酷爱周杰伦，却丝毫不理会那种水平天桥上面一分钱听七段；她们娇蛮任性，撒起娇来蛮不讲理；她们一时心血来潮想织毛衣，做出来的通通都是半成品；她们非但不会照顾你，反而要你照顾，理由是她们工作又忙又累；她们的应酬多得排山倒海，见个面得提前半年预约；她们天真起来天真得无可救药，现实起来现实得彻头彻尾……

屋檐如悬崖 风铃如沧海 我等燕归来
时间被安排 演一场意外 你悄然走开
故事在城外 浓雾散不开 看不清对白
你听不出来 风声不存在 是我在感慨
梦醒来 是谁在窗台 把结局打开
那薄如蝉翼的未来 经不起谁来拆

Eaves erecting high against the world outside, Windmill echoing like the sound of an ebbing tide,
I await you through all days and nights.
Without a word of good-bye, you pass me by and everything fades into black.
Our story started in the wilderness far and wide; with dim air choking all words and passion in our eyes.
Then I uttered a sigh, and you have always taken that as a wind that just brushed by.
Our destiny was unveiled after my roaming dreams took their flight, leaving me with infinite fear for the pale future without you holding me tight.

我送你离开 千里之外 你无声黑白
沉默年代 或许不该 太遥远的相爱
我送你离开 天涯之外 你是否还在
琴声何来 生死难猜 用一生 去等待

Farewell, my girl, but you say not good-bye.
Our heightened distance drives eternity out of sight.
Farewell, my girl, will you forever abide?
Melody coming from afar bidding lifelong departure doomed for you and I.

一身琉璃白 透明着尘埃 你无瑕的爱
你从雨中来 诗化了悲哀 我淋湿现在
芙蓉水面采 船行影犹在 你却不回来
被岁月覆盖 你说的花开 过去成空白
梦醒来 是谁在窗台 把结局打开
那薄如蝉翼的未来 经不起谁来拆

Dressed in gown of pure bright, you gave me faith that your love will never lie.
Raindrops were falling when you came along and sadness was born whereupon, leaving me countless teardrops to ease my fright
How I mourn the days when you picked the lotus in the twilight. And with that lonesome boat, you never came back.
Time carries away every petal and tide, the past is nothing but void and heartfelt cries.
Our destiny was unveiled after my roaming dreams took their flight, leaving me with infinite fear for the pale future without you holding me tight.
 
我送你离开 千里之外 你无声黑白
沉默年代 或许不该 太遥远的相爱
我送你离开 天涯之外 你是否还在
琴声何来 生死难猜 用一生 去等待

Farewell, my girl, but you say not good-bye.
Our heightened distance drives eternity out of sight.
Farewell, my girl, will you forever abide?
Melody coming from afar bidding lifelong departure doomed for you and I.

---------作者：赵晶旌 

The forest was large and thickly overgrown with all kinds of leaf-bearing trees. Usually, it is cold this time of year and it even happens that it snow, but this November was relatively warm. You might have thought it was summer except that the whole forest was strewn with fallen leaves－some yellow as saffron, some red as wine, some the color of gold and some of mixed color. The leaves had been torn down by the rain, by the wind, some by day, some at night, and they now formed a deep carpet over the forest floor. Although their juices had run dry, the leaves still exuded a pleasant aroma. The sun shone down on them through the living branches, and worms and flies which had somehow survived the autumn storms crawled over them. The space beneath the leaves provided hiding places for crickets, field mice and many other creatures who sought protection in the earth.

On the tip of a tree which had lost all its other leaves, two still remained hanging from one twig: Ole and Trufa. For some reason unknown to them, Ole and Trufa had survived all the rains, all the cold nights and winds. Who knows the reason one leaf falls and another remains? But Ole and Trufa believed the answer lay in the great love they bore one another. Ole was slightly bigger than Turfa and a few days older, but Trufa was prettier and more delicate. One leaf can do little for another when the wind blows, the rain pours, or the hail begins to fall. Still, Ole encouraged Trufa at every opportunity. During the worst storms, when the thunder clapped, the lightning flashed and the wind tore off not only leaves but even whole branches, Ole pleaded with Trufa: "Hang on, Trufa! Hand on with all your might!"

At times during cold and stormy nights, Trufa would complain: "My time had come, Ole, but you hand on!"

"What for?" Ole asked. "Without you, my life is senseless. If you fall, I'll fall with you."

"NO, Ole, don't do it! So long as a leaf can stay up it mustn't let go."

"It all depends if you stay with me," Ole replied. "By day I look at you and admire your beauty. At night I sense your fragrance. Be the only leaf on a tree? No never!"

"Ole, your words are so sweet but they're not true," Trufa said. "You know very well that I'm no longer pretty. Look how wrinkled I am, how shriveled I've become! Only one thing is still left me－my love for you."

"Isn't that enough? Of all our powers love the highest, the finest," Ole said. "So long as we love each other we remain here, and no wind, rain or storm can destroy us. I'll tell you something, Trufa－I never loved you as much as I love you now."

"Why, Ole? Why? I'm all yellow."

"Who says green is pretty and yellow is not? All colors are equally handsome."

And just as Ole spoke these words, that which Trufa had feared all these months happened－a wind came up and tore Ole loose from the twig. Trufa began to tremble and flutter until it seemed that she, too, would soon be torn away, but she held fast. She saw Ole fall and sway in the air, and she called to him in leafy language: "Ole! Come back! Ole! Ole!"

But before she could even finish, Ole vanished from sight. He blended in with the other leaves on the ground, and Trufa was left all alone on the tree.

So long as it was still day, Trufa managed somehow to endure her grief. But when it grew dark and cold and a piercing rain began to fall, she sank into despair. Somehow she felt that the blame for all the leafy misfortunes lay with the tree, the trunk with all its mighty limbs. Leaves fell, but the trunk stood tall, thick and firmly rooted in the ground. No wind, rain or hail could upset it. What did it matter to a tree, which probably lived forever, what become of a leaf? To Trufa, the trunk was a kind of god. It covered itself with leaves for a few months, then it shook them off. It nourished them with its sap for as long as it pleased, then it let them die of thirst. Trufa pleaded with the tree to give her back her Ole, to make it summer again, but the tree didn't heed her prayers.

Trufa didn't think a night could be so long as this one-so dark, so frosty. She spoke to Ole and hoped for an answer, but Ole was silent and gave no sign of his presence.

Trufa said to the tree: "Since you've taken Ole from me, take me too."

But even this prayer the tree didn't acknowledge.

After a while, Trufa dozed off. This wasn't sleep but a strange languor. Trufa awoke and to her amazement found that she was no longer handing on the tree. The wind had blown her down while she was asleep. This was different from the way she used to feel when she awoke on the tree with the sunrise. All her fears and anxieties had now vanished. The awakening also brought with it an awareness she had never felt before. She knew now that she wasn't just a leaf that depended on every whim of the wind, but that she was part of the universe. Through some mysterious force, Trufa understood the miracle of her molecules, atoms, protons and electrons－the enormous energy she represented and the divine plan of which she was a part.

Next to her lay Ole, and they greeted each other with a love they hadn't been aware of before. This wasn't a love that depended on chance or caprice, but a love as mighty and eternal as the universe itself. That which they had feared all the days and nights between April and November turned out to be not death but redemption. A breeze came and lifted Ole and Trufa in the air and they soared with the bliss known only by those who have freed themselves and have joined with eternity.