I don't know what I'm writing, I don't have a storyline in the novel, so I can't talk about it at all, the prose isn't that high, and the miscellaneous talk doesn't have much depth, but if I want to say it's a log at most, what I observe every day, what I read in the book, what I hear by the ear, can be written, and it doesn't matter if it's written well or not, right, I just made up so many words.

I'm afraid, I'm afraid that if a big name in the literary and art world comes to a "private interview with Weifu" and accidentally reads what I wrote, he will be furious and scold: What kind of bullshit is written! Of course, the literary masters are all very good-educated, and they will not be angry at me for such a bad thing, which is really worthy of me.

But I still like to write, I recently found that I write deliberately, I have to observe life every day in order to write, to observe small fragments, sometimes on the way to the library, sometimes at the dinner table, sometimes squatting in the toilet, sometimes I am in a dream...... I've changed, I'm no longer writing in a fixed way, I'm no longer hesitating, so maybe there's some gibberish. I wrote it, but I'm afraid there will always be nothing to write, but as long as you look closely, everything is worth writing, it's just that it's good and bad.

I recently read a collection of short stories edited by so-and-so, to be honest, I don't know any of the authors, but don't delay my reading, I don't need to know who they are, I'm obsessed with reading, the charm of short stories drags me, to pull me into that whirlpool, but I know that my level is limited, I didn't dare to try, I don't even dare to conceive, just look at someone else's.

Then I picked out two collections of essays, most of the people in them are familiar with them, Lu Xun, Zhou Shuren, Zhang Ailing...... But I can't read the prose, it's too awkward, I can only taste it shallowly when I calm down and savor it carefully, and I feel ashamed, what exactly am I writing?

Both things drove me crazy, each story of the short story made me obsessed, involuntarily led, every word beating, attracting me, until finally, my heart tightened. Prose really has to be read well and quietly, if it is in class, in the dormitory, it will definitely not be read, not even a little bit.

The works of these masters are so good for me that I can only curl up in dark corners, praying for hope, but I have no hope. But I always persevered, and I was afraid that no one would read what I wrote, or that it would be rubbish after reading it, but I didn't write it, and no one even told me about it.

I found that I like to write, let's call him words first, I can't say it's an article, it seems that I'm too vain, I'm cautious, trembling, walking on thin ice, but writing and writing, I have become brave, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid of controversy, I'm not afraid of slander, I'm not afraid of being said to be rubbish, I'm going to write, write about my own feelings, write what I want to say, when I write, I'm the loneliest, I'm alone slowly typing every word, my head is dizzy, I try to read and hear everything I think, write it out as it is。

I don't have the idea of giving up for the time being, I will keep writing it, maybe I won't write it one day, please don't worry, I may be busy with marriage, busy taking care of children, busy honoring my parents and elders, and busy making money.

With a smile, I'll keep writing about it.