endless roses

Chapter 154 A Wonderful Reason That Everything Is Worth It

Bought forty stamps and sent greeting cards to a few friends, they were very happy.To be precise, they told me that I was very happy to receive it.There are several reasons for this. One is that there are too many beautiful papers in the original collection, and they become garbage when they are thrown away, which is a bit cruel.Secondly, if I write something and keep it by my side, it is meaningless. If it can make someone cherished or happy for a short time, I feel wonderful.

Don’t worry about it, I’m just going to say it on my own. Usually, I don’t want to look back at the previous text. If you are unfortunate enough to see the previous text, there is a high probability that I copied, copied, or put it up all at once. I can’t bear it Looking back at my own words, it's so shameful, it will definitely be emptied, it's because of my personality.

After a while, words said, things thrown away, good memories and dreams are forgotten, and bad things are not remembered at the same time, so the day is not too bad.Will forget anyway.

----

After watching "Why Home":

How to make a home, raise children, live a hard life, and make a living.

In order to continue working hard tomorrow, I can still sell my physical strength tomorrow, eat bread tomorrow, honor tomorrow, study, travel.

I don't know why I did this, I don't know, I live to continue to live tomorrow, and I don't have the courage to commit suicide, because there is no reason to live for others.

Lacking a sufficient reason, such as penniless, humiliated, unaccompanied, abandoned, used... all seem to be untenable, so why continue, I guess, because it's not over yet, So go ahead.

a certain day
----

Or maybe, telling the dream itself is a good way to live. I have lost something more than before. I thought there was nothing to lose.For example, knowing the process of getting lost step by step.It's not like being lost, but it seems that I can already enter the madhouse, not lost in literary works, I am like this myself, maybe those things are just someone's presentation, not someone's fabrication that has nothing to do with reality.I don't know why there is a burst of tears suddenly, I don't know why I live, it's so sad.Whatever, I want a reason, a nitpicking reason for my approval, I can live for it, die for it, play hard or sweet.

One day
A dream that just happened.

Entering Starbucks, Cyan put a slightly short whiskey glass on the wooden table at the front desk, and walked back.He knew that I would take care of everything, so I told the woman at the front desk, a cup of cappuccino, and another, just add water to this cup.But when I said "water" to her, she didn't seem to understand. She just used a fan to grind the candy. The white powder flew into the crystal glass, and she put a lot of milk in it.Originally, there was something simple in the cup, and there was some ice cubes that I added on top, perhaps pinkish-orange ice cubes that were reflected by the lights of the coffee shop, hanging over the mouth of the cup.I told her, "just add some water", and pointed to the long-spouted jug on the ground, she suddenly realized and said "winter", guessing it was a Scottish accent.During the operation, the ice cubes rolled down to nowhere, and a lot of milk was added to it. Looking at the drink that was so thick that it was indescribably thick, I knew that this glass was messed up. She was still busy, so I turned to look for my friend.

The guest area is in the form of private rooms. The corridors are tortuous and narrow, which has the charm of Western Europe in the last century. Of course, it is also a bit old.I watched from room to room, sometimes calling softly: Xavier, Xavier.No one responded, and the people behind the doors were all strangers who were talking or were silent.They have their own lives, business trips, families, lonely people or sojourners in decline, and there is also a very elegant lady who interacts with me. Our eyes are blank, but we are both peaceful and peaceful.There are still many doors, I don't know where he is waiting for me, in fact, he just came to drink coffee, I don't like to talk too much, so I didn't communicate too much in advance, and continued to search.

I yelled softly into the open area again, trying to get a response without bothering strangers too much. "Xiaoyue, Xiaoyue."

It seems that it is not on this floor, so I went to the second floor. The rooms here are like ordinary, ordinary hotels. The doors are all closed. I am only outside. I don’t know what to do, so I went downstairs soon.

On the stairs on the second floor where there is no turning point, I suddenly looked back at the window at the end of the corridor, and it seemed that a figure had appeared. I guessed that the figure looked like Pessoa wearing a brimmed hat, so I looked again.

Everything was quiet, only fine dust floating slightly under the light, and they settled to the ground.The large window, which seems to be common in churches, has a pointed outline on the top, and a yellowish and graceful light beam shines out from the engraving. I know that a shadow has definitely appeared, but I don't know who it is.

Going downstairs, through the narrow door at the back, there is a winding bridge in the backyard of the coffee shop. I forget whether it is made of stone or wood, but I don’t remember the creaking sound when I stepped on it, so it is probably a stone pavement way.

On both sides, there are clusters of sparse lotus flowers, which are connected with lotus leaves, one by one, beautiful, one or two branches are open, and some clusters are budding.I knew that I was asleep, and there was a whistling wind and rain outside, I could hear it, but in the dream, it was more gentle, vertical and strong rain, like a bead curtain, but I didn't get wet.

After crossing the bridge, there is a Chinese-style courtyard, which has a slight grandeur and is still gentle. I think it is not a typical Soviet style.There, many, many things happened, I heard clearly in my head, no, in the dream it was a sound outside of myself, coming from the courtyard and the house, they were clear, tricky, and there were many words, I couldn’t Clearly tell you the content, because there are too many, and it seems that there is something that does not want to be known in reality, so it is "forgotten". The voice is that of an adult man, or that of a child, but every sentence is full of Nervousness, blame, and expectation are like scenes in a drama, like poems.

The brains are buzzing, their voices are echoing, and what echoes is not the content, but the voice of the person.I knew that this dream was that Xiao Su who was covered with a quilt and heard the door of the dormitory shaking slightly due to the typhoon was in a dream. Looking at the dark lake water with black and golden luster, I jumped in.Before landing, because I had never experienced the feeling of being suffocated by the lake water, I still hooked the wooden fence lightly with my hand, hanging on the lake with my whole body, I thought it was a little scrupulous.He suddenly felt that it was just a dream anyway, so he let go of his hand and fell into the water.Head down first, very strange, obviously in a dream, but I really felt the pain of suffocation in the water, I experienced it when I was swimming before, but I haven't learned it now.Only less stinging, but a melancholic, tormented feeling sweeping through every inch of skin, soaking through all senses and guts.

However, since I knew it was a dream, I waited for the future in pain, what would happen if I died in the dream, haha, how can I tell you, this is very ironic, I opened my eyes again, and returned to the gloomy lakeside before I jumped off, In the gray rain, I saw the lotus bushes and the ripples formed by the beating of the rain.I know that as long as I think about it, I can continue to repeat it, and I don’t even need to find anyone else, just play with this dream, but I don’t want to, good or bad, once is enough.So I opened my eyes again, and I woke up with a headache that I had in both places. In this afternoon, Chandu moved slightly north, and the whistling outside the window was stronger than in the morning.

(End of this chapter)