Basic information of role file
Hugh's photos (35 photos)
Ancestral home: Wuxi City, Jiangsu Province, who lived in Shanghai since childhood and rarely went to his hometown when he was a child.
Current residence: Xujiahui, Shanghai
Title: Prince of costume drama, a senior literary youth.
Motto: The meaning of life is not limited to survival. Clouds in the sky and water in a bottle.
What I want to do most: To be a director, go on road trip.
Name used: Hook (only used for one month at birth)
Hobbies: photography, basketball, reading, traveling, etc.
Agent: Cai Yinong Zodiac: Dog.
About the name of the sideline restaurant: Sout (English name: FOUNT)
Primary school experience:
Hugh (high school)
Shanghai Xiangyang Primary School (1989 ——1995)
Junior high school: Shanghai No.2 Middle School Grade 94 1 class (1995-1998).
Senior High School: Class 3, Grade 98, Shanghai No.2 Middle School (1998-2000)
Class 7, Grade 0 1 Senior Middle School, Shanghai No.2 Middle School (2000-200 1)
University: Performance Department of Shanghai Theatre Academy 200 1 Undergraduate Class (200 1-2005).
Fans ① Name of fans: Zanthoxylum bungeanum, Capsicum, Gu Yue's apprentice.
(2) the nickname of pepper:
1. Boss
2. Hu Da, Lao Hu and Hu Mama.
3. Song Ge and Hu Xiaoge
4. Mr. Hu and Mr. Bai
5. Hu Mao, cat song, cat
6. Gong Jin brothers
7. The section chief was exhausted and sobbed.
8. Wait
9. Song (surname)
10. Ahu
1 1. I was stupid.
③ Pepper House: Brother Gu Yue owes an official forum.
About blogs:
Blog news: Recent updates are frequent.
Blog home page photos: all of them were taken by Hugh himself.
Blog visits: Sina Blog ranks 365th in total. Visit:12,040,000 (as of 2065,438+00,65438+128 October).
Weibo's comments and reposts are huge, and every article can be listed on the front page. Hu Da's writing style is quite literary ~
Recess in "Uncle" (Sina blog) and "Weiwei" (Sina Weibo) to reply to Chili. Once I chatted with the pepper version and made up stories. This kind of friendly interaction is also a valuable difference between him and many stars.
Describe yourself.
I'm just a little cute and I look a little handsome. But it was barely crowned. There are three reasons: first, I like to laugh. Affectionate people now call it "flowers". Flowers are not cool, those who are not cool are upset, those who are upset are not wise, and those who are not wise are not disabled. Are you handsome with disabilities? Second, I like talking. many
stop
The speaker now calls it "poverty". Poor people are dishonest, dishonest people float, floating people are not brave, and brave people are empty. Empty and handsome? Third, I like thinking. People who think a lot today call it "softness". Those who are soft are not strong, those who are not strong are worried, those who are worried have no ambition, and those who have no ambition are mediocre. Is mediocrity handsome (I wrote it when I was interviewed by a magazine in Shanghai in high school)
High school composition fragment
"The sunshine in early spring shuttles between buildings in this big city with golden warmth. It took away the biting cold in winter and left people with infinite reverie about spring. A ray of sunshine seems to be a special favor to a place. It does not hesitate to pour its light and heat into an obscure corner on the second floor of an old house through dusty glass, regardless of the darkness and humidity of the surrounding environment ... "
Personal Quotations/Documents (Selected)
● The distant scenery is always more beautiful and clear, and the unreachable is always better and more precious. On the road of pursuit, we should also firmly grasp the front and side.
● Fragmented and lifeless memories fall with the wind, gently approaching the rut that you have gone away. We meet at different street corners and at different moments, waiting for us to miss it.
It suddenly occurred to me that when they hadn't seen each other for a long time, she let him dream all night at a glance. That night, she hurried to let him pursue his dream for a year. Suddenly, you come to him as kindly as the smoke on his mouth burns out, and you don't have to worry about seeing you again when you wake up.
You want to be a free-flying bird. I am willing to be a bamboo prison that people revile. I am not the blue sky for you to fly, nor the arm you are looking for all day. I just want to give you temporary support. I opened the window and ran away with you. You float in the clouds, I hang on the treetops, and you sing for me.
stop
Wandering, who trapped each other, who hurt who?
● The road in the wind and the street between the clouds are looming, intermittent and dust-free.
● They all blew away, swept away, and the wind finally stopped ... The fiery fireball rose as usual, burning its followers as usual.
In my memory, my mother has a pair of warm hands and likes to lead me by the nose. In my memory, my mother has a pair of cold hands, always hitting my ass and my head. Now I can't feel her warmth and coldness, I can only see her chubby mother. Please forgive me for always taking my luggage to Mother's Day. I really want to shake your hand.
When the light is on, the anxiety and urgency in my heart come unexpectedly. One day will come. What has been done and what has not been done is too late to count. The night is getting late, the night is getting late. It's too late to regret.
Two months ago, the mirror threw a man who felt confused and scared in front of me. He was covered with scars and blood. The stranger struggled to open his eyes and stared at me. His face is covered with needle and thread, as if he had just come out of the tailor's shop. His nervous expression made his eyes look dull and confused. His lips trembled slightly, as if to say something, but he couldn't say it. I thought it would be miserable if I became like that, so I closed the curtain behind me. In an instant, darkness blocked my conversation with the mirror and rejected the hope that light brought me. I can't tell the direction in the dark, let alone see myself clearly. I feel confused and scared. I feel the pain of the wound. I want to speak loudly, but I don't know what to say ... I think it's ridiculous. There is no end to escape. I'm trying to face myself and reality, and I know I have to learn to accept it, even if I'm not ready to accept it. ("Looking in the mirror" in Happy Scavengers in 2006)
● Autumn
Selected Scenery Photos of Hugh Mosaic (19)
The cold and humid wind set off a layer of colorful fallen leaves curtains on the streets covered by buttonwood trees ... The tired sunshine has dragged out a long figure and gradually faded the colorful flowers. At this time, only the autumn chrysanthemum blooms in the withering, and a person walks on a familiar street, trying to make himself no longer sad. Feel the tranquility of the crown leaves after returning to the roots. (Autumn in Happy Scavengers in 2006)
If that is true, please blow away the petals scattered in front of the door. I don't care about dying fragrance. If that's true, please drive away the dark clouds piled up in the air. If that's true, please erase the ripples in the middle of the lake. I just want to see the truth after the calm.
Those who persist forever and keep their promises will only appear in the mirror, hide in the shadow, hide in the breeze stroking their cheeks, and dissolve in the first second. Only they themselves will never leave you.
● Wake up from a drunken dream and realize that you spent the last night in Dali. It's dawn, and I'm going to pack my bags and go to another place. I left you in the most beautiful Erhai Lake, and the horse thief Tashi said that Erhai Lake is also called "Erhai" and is a "you" without company. Sorry, I have to leave you for a long voyage and watch until I get back to where I was drunk.
Look at the rocks at the bottom of the water, you can't bear to part with them. Look at the shadow on the water, it's the light you can't bear. The light blown away by the strong wind is reality and illusion, faith and doubt, truth and desire, and it is the weight that you and I have been holding on to all our lives.
A long time ago, there was a big freight elevator in my father's factory. The uncle who drove the elevator was always happy to forget how old I was that year. I only remember that his left front teeth are more than half of mine. A long time ago, my aunt lived in a tall building and had to take the elevator driven by her fierce aunt, but I still can't remember how old I was at that time. I only remember how to jump 19 floor one centimeter ... the forgotten "a long time ago" hung on the wall, which was my fallen front tooth and the "one centimeter" that we could never reach.