Thoughts

During this period of time, many things were not smooth. I wrote down what the company would do in 2015 unconsciously on the work diary! What! Get how degree! Will it be like this! I wrote a self-statement and wrote down the following short paragraphs unconsciously. For more than a year, apart from moaning a few poems occasionally on WeChat, there is no other word. The prose creation that I think is best at and I like seems to seal up the image. Every day, almost every day! Open your eyes to write materials, then open your eyes to write materials, then write materials! I don’t like writing materials much, but it’s not because I don’t like them. Firstly, this is the capital for me to settle down. Secondly, writing materials also shows that I didn’t put down the pen in my hand, which is worthy of happiness. This reminds me of a story I once heard. One’s lifelong dream was to be a painter, and later he became a sanitation worker when he grew up. Once when asked about his ideal, he said like this: when I was a child, I used a brush to paint on the canvas. Now I use a broom to paint on the earth. I am also happy. The spirit of Ah QDE deeply touched his heart, and this factor became stronger and stronger. I will not give up. Even though there may be fewer manuscripts formed, I am still burning, chirping, thinking about the sunshine that shines on you through the window in the cold winter, he not only sent light and warmth, but it must be like this. At this moment, I can’t feel anything else! I am beginning to become dull and calm, and what occupies me? Such a strong sense of entrapment. Night, deep night. The night does not really belong to the sleepers, because they can enter the sleep state at any time. Night, deep night. It belongs to the night of The Thinker. Only in this state can this space-time belong to the real self, and oneself is oneself. At this moment, the I am happy, at midnight. Writing is free, romantic, simple and narcissistic! You can’t experience anything except writing, and I can’t express myself. It’s not that I am inarticulate, let alone lack of wisdom. What does writing here make me think about the starting point again? I think of some verses. Seeing a mountain is a mountain, seeing a mountain is not a mountain, seeing a mountain is still a mountain, Noble is the epitaph of a noble person, despicable is the pass of a despicable person, the night gives me black eyes, however, I used it to look for light. I stood on the bridge and watched the scenery. People watching the scenery looked at me upstairs. The boat passed away from then on and left the rest of my life. All of a sudden, I felt that there were different combinations of irrelevant elements. The Willow was dark and bright, and a red apricot came out of the wall. At this point, I push pillow sorrow he zhuang, Jianghai doubled wave, tonight sleepless. On January 19th, 2015, it belongs to nanyuzhai Zan (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) to continue to stay with this city in another way

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