All day long, except for eating, I just sat at the desk and stared out of the window in a daze, watching the dark clouds in the sky, rolling and unfolding, watching the sudden rain, wet the window glass with crackling, and watching the sun suddenly pop out of the clouds, revealin

All day, except for eating, I just sit at the desk and stare out of the window in a daze, watching the dark clouds in the sky, rolling and unfolding, watching the sudden rain, wet the window glass with crackling, and watching the sun suddenly pop out of the clouds, revealing her face, watching the wind rise again, and the leaves rustle. Open the window, the air after the rain was a little humid and hot, and it felt a bit early spring. Of course, it is already autumn now, and a large wave of cold air has been shipped. It will be , Qingdao in the past few days, and then it won’t take long. When the sharp northwest wind starts to blow, winter is coming, and then New Year’s Day, after New Year’s Day, the Spring Festival, year by year, time just speeds by like this.

How do I feel? Last year's 2021 seemed just yesterday, and even 2020 still seemed yesterday. Now it's the second half of 2022 that is about New Year's Day? In recent years, as we grow older, time has begun to pass faster and faster. We realized that the time for middle-aged people is counted in years. Five years and ten years seem to be very long, but in fact, it comes in the blink of an eye, and another five years and ten years have passed in another blink of an eye.

took my eyes back and returned to my laptop screen. Looking at the paper I opened early in the morning and wrote half-half-screwed, I suddenly felt a little depressed, a little confused, and a little helpless. This paper is part of someone else's manuscript. I have been receiving the task for several months. I am always lazy. A procrastination that is almost a bit pathological. When can I complete it becomes a heart disease deep in my heart that will feel fear when I think about it.

In addition to attending classes every day, they are dealing with words every day after class. This is my normal life. I suddenly remembered that I was a little bit repulsive of writing work more than ten years ago. I clearly remember that when I started working in the media, one day when I finished writing the manuscript, it was already dark, and I was also looking out the window. Suddenly, I was a little uncomfortable with the writing work I was going to do every day of writing. I felt that the job I chose was clearly a job outside of other people in this society, and I sighed with my young colleagues in the same dormitory. He smiled: We are not going to take words as our career, we are all migrant workers who write words and journalists, and we use words as our careers to make a living.

Of course, it may not be accurate to say that the entire society is excluding professions engaged in writing work, or it may be just a fantasy of my own heart. At that time, I had just entered the media. Before I went to work in the media, I had been struggling in the commodity economy society for a long time. Perhaps this experience made me feel a little repulsive about doing writing work. I even clearly feel that the whole society excludes writing work. It seems a bit over the past to say that the whole society excludes writing. In fact, it is true. When commodity consciousness is already omnipresent in this society, some people are spending a lot of time and energy on writing every day, rather than on other work that benefits or faster results. Such people always make people in commodity society feel a bit out of place. So, my media colleagues, when we are idle, we have never talked about topics related to text. Although text work is not a secret job, it seems that the entire society's eagerness for quick success and instant benefits really makes it seem a bit alternative to engaging in text work.

Perhaps it is because we are in the era of commodity economy. The logic of capital immerses all relationships between people in the ice water of egoism. Money is the final judge who is above everything else. If anyone does not have enough money in his pocket, his freedom will be greatly reduced. This seems to be the most real truth. In the eyes of many people, the logic of the real world is as simple and direct as a money logic, so cruel and ruthless. Many people have already shouted out without any concealment and made it: Don’t tell me any big truths, as reasoning hurts money.

I reject writing work, but fate is so elusive. I didn’t expect that as I entered college again, from studying to working step by step, I chose to deal with writing more thoroughly and with old paper piles at the age of age. Many years have passed, and looking back at the work during the media period, I miss the simple and simple writing work. Although the pressure of deadlines in the media was everywhere, as long as I finished writing and handing over the manuscript, all my time was mine, and my work and life were clearly distinguished. What about now? As a young green pepper in college, I suddenly realized that my work and life are no longer separated. Many people envy college teachers who don’t have to work, but many people don’t know that it’s because they never get off work, so it doesn’t matter if they sit on the shift or not. For example, during this National Day holiday, everyone else is spending the holiday, and what I think is where to go to relax, but I am so miserable that I am thinking of taking advantage of this big time to complete a task that has already exceeded the deadline.

The showers are sometimes stopped. The leaves of the magnolia tree outside the window are washed by the heavy rain, and the raindrops are shining, making them even more grey and dark green. Plants do not have these distresses, no ideals and reality, no wealth and poverty, and even no cleanliness and dirty things. There are no so many abstractions and concepts of people. Only humans, like a clock that is tightly wound every day, are all nervous and cannot relax at all. Every day, everyone is determined without hesitation. Every time, they seem to throw out all their bodies and minds. Every time, they seem to leave no way out for themselves, nor do they give them any care and compassion for themselves, as if they regard themselves as a ruthless machine. Humans are the most vicious animals I have ever seen to attack themselves.

Alas, the deepest division in our society is the division between spirit and material. Engaging in writing means thoroughly wandering in the spiritual world, actively stay away from the hustle and bustle of the world, stay away from the shackles of real material interests, and dress yourself up as if you are not in the world. I suddenly envy those who are engaged in the most direct material labor in the real world. Although they may be very tired, after work, they sit in groups of three or five, order a few dishes and ask for a few bottles of beer. While drinking, they chat around the world. After drinking, they go back to sleep. There is no mental and material division at all, and no place for the soul to put on such a stupid thing.

Perhaps life is a big paradox. Life is bitter and cursed. Everyone seems to be in a dream that will never wake up, and it seems to be playing a drama that will never end. Knowing that what we see, hear, material, spiritual... what we see is only what we see, and there is nothing else. Our guilt, happiness, loneliness, embarrassment and anxiety, and those who have nowhere to buy regret medicine, are actually just an experience and an illusion within our own spirit. We are working hard to play our role every day. No one of us can escape from this theater, either performers or bystanders.