Fever

I have smoked for many years, dating back to 13 years old.I don't quite remember who handed me the first cigarette, but it was strictly forbidden by the school, so I smoked all the way after school. My height is only five and one-third feet, and my back is very thin. The popular boys rolled up their sleeves and were rude without ties.All this made me look ungenteel, like a ruffian.My father finally found my lighter one Easter night and smelled smoke in my hair.He was so angry that he threw the lighter far away, but he never got angry again. With good upbringing and stern warnings, he told me to take care of himself.

I was then sent to Harrow, and for many years my smoking habit was almost extinguished by the torture of compulsory boarding.It's jokingly called Hogwarts, but even sitting in that classroom doesn't make me happy, it makes me miserable.In fact, the most painful thing is the high pressure and strict system here. My family background is not bad, but I still noticed many shadows of inferiority swirling around my classmates.After I had had enough of the weird straw hats and the boring old Victorian school anthem*, I finally got to graduate.And when my father looked at me when I got home, I noticed a new lighter on the table.

I haven't used that expensive gadget so far, but that doesn't mean I've quit smoking.It's so easy to get cravings, and the moment I smell the smoke I know I'm going to be in it again, or, the gospel.

I was determined to do design.In public school, I was a fan of these outfits and accessories, and always wanted to add some color to my straw hat on my own.I know a senior graduate who is working for Romeo Gigli (Romeo Ji Li), and his goal is obviously the same as mine.I managed to get in touch with him as I was leaving here, but he told me, go to Italy.

I went to Milan and Rome, and I suddenly felt how different this wonderful, romantic atmosphere of freedom is from the strict public schools and the gloomy London.The air here is sweet, it’s no exaggeration, because in London you won’t see colorful ice cream balls in the streets, even though the Italians are unqualified and inefficient. The Poldi Pezzoli Gallery has a jaw-dropping collection, and after passing by those designer boutiques, those deep impressions are always lingering in my mind.I was determined to do it, because I wasn't a proper upper-class darling, and I was really fed up with the posturing.

I stayed in Italy for three days.In fact, I knew Alfred at that time, but he was still a teenager at that time, hanging around the door of the main church. Unfortunately, I was accosted by him and provided him with a mobile phone to contact his parents, but that I didn't know him or his name at the moment, and I'm sure he wouldn't remember this brief encounter that I identified as 'my sympathetic praiseworthy'.

Indeed, he did not remember.Me too.We both forgot, as stupid as it sounds.Until one day we went to Milan again, he pointed to the steps and said, I lost my way here, and asked an Englishman to borrow a mobile phone, I suddenly laughed.

When I got back to London I told my father I was going to St. Martins and he gave you that look of responsibility which made me ecstatic.Obviously five years at Harrow, he thinks I'm mature and able to stand on my own, and that's what I want.As for whether I can really accept the experience, this is not what I need to think about now.

I feel like I threw away that funny straw hat.However, all this is not as easy as I expected. In the end, what is waiting for me is a beautiful and huge cage. I thought I had already stepped out of it, only to find that it is always with me.I sank to the bottom of sleep like a ship capsized by overload.Surrounded by impenetrable green water, I'm trying to swim up.