In the afternoon of July, when the wind was light and the clouds were light, I sat alone on the windowsill, listening to the singing of summer cicadas. Occasionally, a car galloped across the road with light dust. In recent days, my heart is filled with slight sadness. After all, the reality is always unsatisfactory. Ideal is always beautiful, it is like a proud and independent flower, blooming in that sacred pure land, you can only occasionally smell the fragrance of flowers, and when you want to touch, but I found that it was just like the distant tomorrow that I could never touch. Time has smoothed my edges and corners. The so-called youth and frivolous was severely shot by the reality with a slap. The heroic words that were broken all over the place were unexpectedly shining as bright as pearls at this moment, it seems to laugh at me, but it also seems to warn that it is not that simple. Life is not that simple, you want the wind and the sun, the moon stars are sparse, the reality is just strong wind, the night rain is majestic. You want to be calm and natural, and your heart is quiet and ethereal, but the reality always makes the world in your heart shake, making you unable to maintain a peaceful posture. People have feelings, and they can still remain calm in the face of some small winds and waves. But when the sufferings of life come, who can still keep the heart like a mirror? Predecessors said that the normal state of life is unhappiness, because this world is like a millstone, grinding the creatures in the world of mortals. Happiness is always short. The platform of happiness is made up of countless troubles and sorrows. When you stand on the platform and appreciate the flavor of life, you may be able to realize the blooming Road, after experiencing the wind, Frost and sword, and escaping from the hot sun and rainstorm, this short Bloom came into being. Suddenly, the wind was roaring outside the window, and the sky was covered by dark clouds. It was going to rain. The weather is just like life, with beautiful sun, clear wind and rain. But there are signs before the rain, and is there any sign when the suffering of life comes? The raindrops gently knocked on me, cold and cold. I stretched out my hand to close the window, and didn’t want to be the object of being raging. How many dynasties of rain have been wet and how many centuries of wind have been blown. Nowadays, it is still free and uninhibited in this era. The laymen who got wet in those years had already been gone, and only that sentence, a misty rain, could remain in the world for all ages. The thatched cottage that it blew in those years had been sold out for a long time, and only the songs that the thatched cottage was broken by the autumn wind were handed down. People will always grow old and then go to the grave. Dust will return to dust and soil will return to soil. Even if I am young now, that day will come inevitably. But can I have anything handed down? I have something to prove the value of my existence. When hundreds of years later, there are still people discussing my name. I have a dream, but I know it is still far away from it, I am just like a seed, which needs to absorb nutrition and water, and also needs to experience wind and rain. It is funny to talk about what to blossom and bear fruit now. If the Journey of Dreams is the life of silkworms, and the moment when the cocoons are broken into butterflies is the realization of dreams, then I, as well as many people chasing dreams like me, are still young silkworms now, it needs to continuously swallow mulberry leaves and store the energy needed to turn cocoons into butterflies. The rain stopped soon. I rubbed my eyes and looked carefully. There was no shadow of a flower outside the window. As expected, flowering is not that simple. Flowers bloom and thank each other. They keep the bright flowers in bloom to the next generation through seeds, which will last forever. People, who are born and old, can also pass on their dreams and heroic spirits in their youth to the next generation, which will last forever from generation to generation. Is the innocence still there when the dream was born? Whether you have lost on the road of chasing dreams, the annual rings of trees that have been abandoned are carved by years, and the strength of people’s hearts is tempered by years. Pick up the innocence again, hope there will always be, after the wind and rain bloom.

Like (prose editor: Ke Er) the 30th year of my WeChat era

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I like the soft light on the old wall at dusk and the mottled shadow of trees. I like to sit on the bridge and watch a leaf of Wupeng boat swaying from the other end of the river, and shake it into my dream. In the melancholy and obsession, I felt that I was an old man living here all my life. I like the sea under the sunset on Dongji Island. I like to stand under the Clean Sky and leave a back shadow to the shore when facing the sunset. As a traveller, I like to show my hesitation in the sea and the sky naked. Recently, I like the temples in Jiangnan again. I stepped through the footprints of Lingyin in Hangzhou, Putuo in Zhoushan, Guoqing in Tiantai, Tiantong in Ningbo and Yuyao in the world. I like the green water and green mountain in front of the temple gate. I like listening to the sound of bells in the old temple, and I like the peace in such an environment. I am a person who has no demand but just comes to burn a column of incense. 3 during the National Day typhoon, I went back to my hometown. The morning of my hometown after the wind and rain seemed particularly clear. There is a cool Fanjing in the misty rain. That morning, I sat in the yard of my hometown to watch Qingming Festival. My mother’s old body was creeping beside the water tank. The dripping water on the eaves fell into the water tank rhythmically, as if the quiet time was slowly dropping down. At that moment, I suddenly realized. I am a man walking freely. I have been looking for spirituality and peace between old towns and landscapes. In fact, as early as 15 years ago, this feeling had been planted in the soil of my hometown yard!

Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the 30th year of my WeChat era

The year before last, my eunuch planned to buy a smartphone for him on his birthday. The main purpose was to teach them how to play WeChat, and let them…

Comments on the Chinese version of “worry-free grocery store”

Everyone moves towards a better life through his own efforts. The answer to the consultation letter is just encouraging an existing…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 14, 2018)

January 14, 2018: Today, the temperature in Wujiang is relatively warm, not as cold as a few days ago. Yesterday and Today, Wu Jiang’s…

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Teacher Lily coughed with a strong nasal tone when she was in yoga class. Maybe it’s uncomfortable, she has less demonstration action today,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 13, 2018)

January 13, 2018: Yesterday, my sister and nephew Little David didn’t come to the Dongwan village of jinjiaba where my mother and I stayed temporarily,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 12, 2018)

January 12, 2018: The day before yesterday, I said, “my mother will go to Kunshan tomorrow.” However, yesterday, my mother did not go to Kunshan…

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