Life is so busy that people are always at a loss.
Written two days ago Days in the Deep Mountain (16) Jianghu Trivia Gathered into Smoke I casually said "Jianghu trivia gather into smoke" after "Floating life steals half a day's leisure". thank @Roughly He pointed out the mistake of level and oblique tone. "Level and oblique tone are wrong. The first sentence starts and ends with level, and the second sentence should use level and end with level. The" life "that has been free for half a day is flat sound, and the second word of the next sentence cannot use river [lake]."
So I asked @Roughly By the way, when I saw his reply, I took it here:
A floating life steals half a day's leisure,
Half a day, half a day.
Singing frost, chanting snow and sighing autumn wind,
Muddle along for another year.
After watching the half sound, I was silent. It seemed that I would turn everything into sand and slip away from my fingers one by one in half a day. Spring has gone and autumn has come. I wrote some sad articles about the autumn moon. This year has become last year in a flash.
Simply write something for yourself to remember everything about yourself.
On November 13, 2020, deep in the mountains, I sighed that it finally snowed again.
For this mountain, if there is no snow in winter, it is like a dry girl dancing striptease in the middle of the pool. And if the falling snow can stand the heat of the earth and all the accumulation from the past, there is still a chance to stay. But if you can't stand it, it becomes smoke and water, and goes to heaven and earth.
In the afternoon, the snow that did not accumulate became a flash of surprise in the eyes of the loess.
On the evening of November 13, drive home. Along S316, the fog filled the sky, and I felt like a person in the boundless. Only then did I gradually feel my existence. In the white fog, as I wrote a year ago:
Long time no return, finally return.
Heavy snow and fog are just like: great enlightenment.
Thousands of miles away, living in a corner, I will be happy again in this time.
Don't ask about the future, don't ask about the ghosts and gods in the sky, just ask whether there is still a breath in your heart.
——Jiang Chen, November 22, 2019, 20:48 p.m., Su Township.
The car turned on the small light, looked at the car coming from the opposite side flashing double, I also turned on the double flashing, and then I was worried, and turned on the fog light.
Along the way, music and I slowly boiled in the white.
At that moment, I took a breath for myself, just like getting up early every day, just like going to bed early every day. At this moment, I already feel a kind of suffocation, which seems to have gradually reached the extreme.
Like, people have reached the acme. In the process of gradually giving up and growing up, I finally got used to the white fog.
I thought I was inconsistent with the white fog everywhere, but I finally became one of them.
On November 14, 2020, I stayed at home for a day.
Do not like communication, do not like words.
Every so-called rest day, I close myself in a place and accompany myself with quiet.
Only in a small space with no people and no voice can I feel my own existence. As if in that fog.
Just like every night, I like to look at the stars far away in the darkest place.
Silence, only me, and all the unknown in the dark.
one
Our laughter
Our loneliness
Is it on the earth
Looking up at the stars in the night sky?
The starry sky is very bright
The stars are far away
The starry sky is beautiful
And we, forever, are close to each other.
two
At that moment of night
I feel like
Bury yourself in the depths of the stars
three
Billowing white fog
An endless road
With endless turbulence
Feel the ups and downs
Afraid of standing on the road
I'm afraid I'll lose my step and start again
After all, it still stops in the turbulence
Lose courage, only leave frown
four
Years of drinking ice are hard to beat people's hearts
A wisp of blood compose a long song in my heart
Liunian is buried in the dark night, and it's hard to look at it on tiptoe
The hand that broke through the earth was trampled on the noisy world
"What did you write?"
"Stubborn eyes."
"Speak to others."
"I don't know."
"Then why do you write these?"
"Let the advertisements on this website of Dream Chenfeng have more traffic, let more people browse the public account, and let more people see the headline."
"Is it useful?"
"It's really useless if you don't do it."
"Must it be useful?"
"It may not be useful, but it's definitely useless if you don't do it."
"You're a goddamn genius."
"Really?"
"A genius who has made money."
"It's better to learn to be down-to-earth and recognize the reality."
"I have learned firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar and tea after all."
"Having learned everything of the secular world, and being contaminated with the worldly troubles, I have my own taste."
"Is it the flavor of the seventh anniversary of the dream Chenfeng?"
"Yes, the taste of reality."
"What's that smell?"
"No taste."
five
Laugh at the leisurely Jianghu and drink a cup of turbid wine alone
It's ridiculous to watch the white clouds and drink a glass of wine alone
The long sword has rusted
But I have forgotten the scholar's spirit
No more young frivolous ambition
six
I carried a spade across a grave
Look at each monument
It's all about life
I seem to have seen my own tomb
"Buried in the trap of reality"
I watched, digging my own grave with a spade
In the empty coffin
Everything with nothing
I put the tombstone in the coffin
"Buried in the trap of reality"
After all, it was buried in itself
I turned my grave into a flat ground
I left with a smile
seven
I've been away for a long time
But I'm still wandering in the cemetery
Hands deep on the ground grab my ankles
I hit my dead hand with a spade
My hands are in great pain at this moment
I dig the ground
Look at me buried in it
He smiled and wanted to leave
eight
I was buried by myself
Entrust oneself to virtual satisfaction and joy
Every time I want to get rid of
I want to pursue the freedom of my soul
But watching me bury myself with a spade
nine
A star fell
"I hope the white fog has gone."
I made a wish.
A star fell
"I hope the road will be smooth."
I made a wish.
A star fell
"I hope that the world of mortals with soot also has the freedom of soul."
I made a wish.
A star fell
"I hope none of us will be buried by ourselves."
I made a wish.
I opened my eyes and looked at the sky,
it's dawn.
The existence of the article lies in the catharsis of the soul.
The existence of reading lies in the collision of souls.
The existence of the weekend lies in the breathing of the body.
Life is in a hurry, like a tight bow.
Please, give yourself a chance to have a rest.
Write a so-called "poem" for yourself,
Tell yourself that there is a different life
Waiting for myself.
