Not with me, the vicissitudes of life. Wandering for thousands of years, only to live unforgettable. Sinking has long been out of the lock of time. Lost the present and the future.
Who can tell me if there is tomorrow?
The wind of strife travels through the night, and the ronins on the side of the street wander in the streets, watching all this silently. The bright light burns his blank eyes at 1.1 points.
Look at this bleak world, life is like a merciless yoke, brutally imprisoned. I can't hear the cry of hysteria in the distance.
When I go to sleep in the early morning and wake up in the afternoon, this is a desolate weekend morning. There is no breakfast, only the tiredness of going to bed late and getting up late. I didn't bother to cook lunch. I sat in front of the computer and saw rows of feeble words wandering in my eyes. The empty life is only the time left by the red cross on the calendar. Numb mind, lazy body, as if naked on the line of life and death to make a senseless struggle, leaving a guess.
Tomorrow, can I be all right?
It always breaks so early in the morning when I study. Alarm clock one after another in the ear noise, whether you are willing to get up always entangled in the heart for a long time, so that finally hurriedly sort out everything, and even forget to change slippers, directly rushed out the door, but each time the most annoying is the narrow and winding alley outside the building. There are always vegetable stalls, large and small, selling fish, ducks and all kinds of fruits and vegetables. I don't know where the waste water almost drenched the whole alley. I recall that occasionally because I stayed up late at night, I would be lucky to see that after the wee hours of the morning, stalls would appear one after another on the street. Stall owners often rely on sleeping on the street. I don't know where the power comes from to make people do this. Although there will be chengguan to harass from time to time, but the stall vendors are old people, there is no malicious governance. I don't know that I often feel that they seem to be inferior, but every time I think about it, I feel even more guilty.
Let's just say that it may be all right tomorrow.
People always use their strength to interpret struggle, all in the world, but I don't know whether I can do it or not.
The sun burns badly in the afternoon in summer, and the annual award ceremony is without exception, and the water in the commissary is always emptied. After the meeting, the rubbish was not piled next to each other, but scattered everywhere. Later, I have forgotten why the teacher fined us to run laps. In the physical exertion bit by bit, who can notice the sanitation aunt who bends down on the playground for many times, her hair is messy and her face reflects several folds in the vicissitudes of life. Every time it is painful to stand up, no one can guess, and the little boy next to him is constantly picking up that piece of rubbish. However, every time she stood up, the little boy would rub her waist with his tender hands. The two are cleaning up the dirty land like this. I don't know what to say, and my heart is full of speechless shame.
Pray to God that tomorrow will be all right.
The good time is like a dream, and the fleeting years are like water. Over the years, some of the people around me seem destined to have plans for something that cannot be erased by this false earthly world. Just want to sit quietly on the coast of life, do not move, waiting for a spring blossom, write down the sadness of 'spring', fold into a dream of a paper plane drifting with the current. Let it fly, indifferent to see the joys and sorrows of the world. I miss the sound of the alarm clock and the hurry every day. Because we do not want to live lazily, nor do we want to sink into it. I am only willing to pursue for the rest of my life. When one day, I am no longer at a loss, I only want to have the power of life like them, will not be tired; when everyone has a good heart, keep climbing, and finally tell God. Hello, tomorrow!
Author: Zi Yuxin
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