The fireworks in the left hand, the distance in the right hand, the chickens and dogs in front of you are broken, and you can't forget the poetry in your heart. I don’t know if the state of
is good or not, I just know that it is a state I really want.
When people reach middle age, the years have become transparent, they can bear gray hair and withstand separation.
Like the flowers in spring, the flowers in summer are even more fragrant. Even if the autumn wind sweeps away the fallen leaves and the cold winter is biting, you can still love and hate, know the cold and warmth, and be quiet and calm.
Perhaps, this is the middle-aged person's understanding of ordinary things. He is not surprised, sad, sigh, and complain. Everything is as he wants, without any disturbance.
Suffering is not distinguished from each other, coldness is not distinguished from far and near, just like the gurgling water.
Whether you hate or fear, in the long river of life, you can't tolerate you, either becoming waves or being quiet. As long as life continues to last, it will eventually exist and flow.
Life is a state, a state full of dynamic. The more dynamic it is, the more meaningful it is.
There is a friend who has eaten, drunk, sang, danced, said intimate words, and done stupid things. Since he became a billionaire, he has never done anything like that.
does not mean that there is intentional distantness or estrangement, but that the straight lines of time extend in their respective directions.
I have my simplicity, he has his plumpness, but there is no intersection point.
Of course, my simplicity makes me unknown, and I have a simple meal a day, and the sun and moon in my eyes have not changed.
But he is different, busy, from all over the world, on the road full of flowers, there is applause and welcome. The sun and the moon are like each day, the sun is stronger and the moon is brighter.
There is also a friend who should be considered a classmate and a comrade in the military academy. He graduated shortly after he was in his prime, but he went to a world that everyone feared, and from then on he quietly.
This is the difference, it also exists. It is only when you are middle-aged that you can see clearly and thoroughly.
I don’t know the joy of the former, nor the regrets of the latter. I only know that in these sunny years, as long as there is a scenery in front of you and a thought in your heart, the meal can fill your stomach and warm every night, which is enough.
Half of your life, you will never regret the past, live up to the rest of your life, cherish it all, what else can you feel more comfortable than this?
