Do not seek to be invincible, sweep thousands of troops, but seek to advance all the way and be invincible.

You hold the bright moon in one hand, the stars in the other, and the endless heavy darkness behind you, and there is a boundless slimness in front of you.

But please believe that the light is ahead, if you can't reach it, then please stretch out your hand, clap your hand, and the bright moon and stars will merge into one, take you to fly, break through the ugliness, and create the glow of miracles. - Wen Cang's heart

At the beginning, the pain kicked me to the ground, and I couldn't get up in pain, crying, spitting blood, rolling the whites of my eyes, and panting for air.

Now, I'm punching each with pain, and it's flying to one side, and I'm flying to the other. But I still leaned back uncontrollably, my teeth baring in pain, trying not to let the tears fall.

In the future, I slapped the pain into the wall, laughed and slammed my fist, and the splashed stones hit my hand, but I didn't frown. - Wen Cang's heart

Some of the great people we respect, in fact, we only respect their names, because they are gone, only their names are left.

No matter how bumpy, painful, and lonely the other person was in life, we can't change and help them. If you really respect them, you will inevitably meet them in your dreams and talk to them, and that's the only thing we can do. - Wen Cang's heart

Body:

In recent days, it has been raining a lot, and it is gloomy and heavy, bringing a lot of moisture. Looking at the trees outside the window, some are golden, some are green, and sometimes the strong wind blows, often wave after wave, it seems very pleasant. When it doesn't rain, the sky is unbelievably blue, and the white clouds stick together to form a vast monochrome picture.

They are all moving, only the buildings are not moving, only the lifeless are not moving, only I am lonely and not moving. Suddenly I thought of a dead end—I wanted to go there and see if the so-called blockade really became a dead end.

But there are few places like this around me, and they all live in my heart. One by one, they formed a labyrinth, and at every point in my heart, the blood seemed to be blocked.

But most of the time, I don't feel it, but I feel that the beating is too light, so light that I have to seriously perceive its existence, perceive it, and feel uncomfortable, and want to dig it out.

I'm bored, I'm indignant. I clenched my fists and slammed them on the desk. No one heard, and no one saw my movements. I was still afraid of the pain, and I didn't dare to slam my fist against the wall. Actually, that wall is a dead end, right?

It was horrible, I wanted to find a ladder to climb over this wall, but I couldn't.

Because I couldn't find the ladder, and if I did, I didn't have the strength to move it. I looked at the sky in the alley like a dog, gritted my canine teeth, and barked at it.

But there was only an exhausting respite from my echoes. I was so angry that I kicked and kicked with my feet, and the wall didn't fall, I fell.

I staggered to my feet again, and I burst into tears. I found myself unable to do anything, nothing well. The efforts that used to be used as a laughing stock are not even a wall to penetrate, how can we embrace the sun?

I said that I only care about attitude and do it seriously, but others are different, they only care about the result, they only focus on surprises and jokes. Unfortunately, I don't like to be in the limelight, I belong to the latter category.

I was in a deep depression, my heart fell again and again, drowning in a stagnant emotionless blood, unable to beat. Everything I do is almost meaningless, but what's the point? Can I eat it? Do I need to care about this kind of thing?

Tell me, please, that we come and go empty-handed, so what is the point of living? It was as if I had heard the funniest joke in the world, and with a cold smile.

At the very least, meaning is given by man, and there is no absolute meaninglessness. And the meaning of the existence of this damn alley, I'm afraid it's to mock me, right?

I don't averse to being ridiculed, it's a rewarding thing. The silence of the ridiculed person is considered the noblest way to react, and the same is true for being abused. If you take action and give such a subtle, dissatisfied feedback that the person notices, then I'm sorry you didn't meet the requirements.

You may never be the supreme forbearer. But no one will think that this is a big deal, and no one will feel a sense of failure from the bottom of their hearts, because they don't realize it, they don't realize that they have lost some kind of qualification.

Although this qualification does not affect a lifetime, but nothing is nothing, and such an answer may not be impressive, so please allow me to say: some invisible organs have died in your body.

Of course, their death may not matter to you, it is not painful or itchy, it is like cutting your nails, but it is comfortable and pleasant. It's a disappointment to some people, and I care so much about this kind of stuff.

You can't see it, but I can. I'm a person who can even see the dead end in my heart. Although I am short-sighted, I am not blind, although I do not speak, I am said to be like a dead man, but my hands and feet can still move roughly, my mind can still think, and my soul is still there.

The soul is wonderful, it is the only thing in the human body that can penetrate the dead end, even if the mental pain of calling the soul to embrace the sun is a thousand times the physical pain, I am not afraid.

What else is there to fear of a dark man? Or is he afraid of everything, but he is not afraid of anything. There is only one more word between fear and fear, which can be transformed into each other if necessary. Those who can overcome loneliness and go against the odds will be great men. Great people don't have to be famous, great hearts are great, and people are also great.

The loneliness experienced by a lonely person in his life is enough to drive an optimist crazy, oh, maybe more than one, maybe a group. It seems that I don't hate Hutong, but I revere it and treat it as a confidant.

Just because it's not a real alley, it makes me lose a lot and gain a lot.

What is lost is the truth of the self. What you get is the form of the true self.

I understand that I don't seem to be alone, at least I still have a few friends to talk to, I just feel lonely.

But the real loner never speaks of loneliness, never acknowledges loneliness, and these may be two realms of loneliness. I'm trying another kind of transformation, and after that, I'm no longer lonely. - Wen Canghou's words

Diary of April 29, 2016