"By the way, Lin Kai, I don't know how long it will take for Wang Dalong to come back, should we go out for a swim?"

Just when Lin Kai was looking out of the window, the fisherman uncle suddenly leaned on the window and smiled at Lin Kai in the room, which was very interesting.

"Swimming, where to swim?"

Hearing the word swimming, Lin Kai's mind instantly flashed the strange appearance of Yuanqi Jiang, but it was quickly shattered, because in Lin Kai's impression, Yuanqi Jiang could not have any desecration, and it was very easy to suffer serious consequences.

A bag of wandering, a long-lost I don't know. When you start to walk with it on your back, you are destined to have a different mentality than those who are happy to be quiet and lonely. Because it is usually travel that gives you a sense of enjoyment and a sense of transcendence in wandering. And youth, in the end, is only hidden outside those sense of enjoyment and transcendence.

Youth shines only when traveling. When you really fulfill this practice, when you really sit on the winding journey of 10,000 books, you will know that the once naïve you are actually gone, because youth has come.

In the imagination of the ancients, they seemed to be very fond of traveling, which can be more or less read from some ancient texts. However, travel is travel, and we are called it after all. The real travel of the ancients must not have been easy, and we can more often realistically call it "wandering travel".

The arrogant Li Taibai used to read on the wall, whether he had read thousands of volumes of poetry and books we don't know, we only know that the poet is very smart, he has the title of poet immortal. So he was even clamoring to himself, he had read 10,000 books. It is precisely this kind of clamor that makes his young belief in "going to the country with a sword, leaving his relatives and traveling far away" become so proud. No wonder, with his character, he sang the poem "Look up to the sky and laugh and go out, how can my generation be a Penghao person", what a natural thing it is.

Du Zimei, who came later, did not have the romance and chic of Li Taibai. I was thinking that Du Zimei must be too worried, he had read all the poetry books so thoroughly that he couldn't tolerate even the slightest unsatisfactory thing in his heart. So when he saw the unbridled Tang Dynasty in the past, from prosperity to decline, Du Da poet would be so sad for so long and so deeply. Du poet also walked through a lot of mountains and rivers when he was young, and the young poet also left his own beautiful witty words and good news in that warm and splendid land; In fact, Du Shishi spent his entire life in wandering. Perhaps the poet has read poetry books when he is wandering, and he also needs to quote scriptures and classics when he is like a literati, and occasionally borrowing ancient books to vent or sigh is the poet's specialty: or perhaps, the poet has never read poetry books, and he is better at using his own unique words to comfort himself and wash others. Therefore, the poems of Du Da poets are not only wandering poems, but also poems in history!

The journey of youth is so ingenious and so bizarre, glued together with wandering, with travel, and with books. Too often, I've been in that travel and book for a long time. It's just that in that trip and in the book, I can't find Li Taibai, and I can't find Du Zimei.

When I think about the relationship between my youth and wandering, I am often confused. My wanderings are not up to me, and my youth is also deviating from the journey it should be.

I think that in many places and many times, my youth was wandering, doing meaningless wandering. Because many times, I don't know what it means to be wandering and what it means to be stable. Maybe the habit of wandering for a long time is called stability, and perhaps, the habit of being stable for a long time is also called wandering.

Walking on the old camphor street along the construction road, it is easy to forget the vague moment of the year. It's as if the city's April and May changes have nothing to do with me, I'm just a beggar in April and an outcast in May. There is no sunshine in April and no rain in May. Wandering does not leave, and youth does not come.

I love walking alone on the streets of the city. There is more to the streets than in the streets, and it's important to remember that wandering is the main theme of the city.

I also like the slightly cold feeling of drifting, the moment when the yellow leaves of the morning swirl and fall from the branches. The leaves, the big trees, are not arrogant or impetuous, and it seems that all the coldness is scattered by the scattered leaves. A lot of people know that it's not the dispersion of leaves, and I know it.

You can relax that drift, and of course you can oppress that drift. The lightness and oppressive feelings of this world belong to you alone, whether you are many or small. When you are in a group, you can wander, and of course when you are alone, you can also taste poetry and books.

Youth is like this, both quietly and openly, and it is related to wandering, poetry and books.

The role of travel in this month of April is green, and there is so much green in April that is delicately rendered in the blue color of travel. The youth of April is also dyed with a green color of hope, and I like to hold a page of old white paper in the light of green hope, and look at the dark words, the wrinkled curly corners, and circle after circle.

Books are often amorous, more amorous than youth. Although the morning and dusk are sad, it is enough to go on a blind date.

The amorous nature of the book seems to be a bit widowed, a little affectionate, and in many cases, I just look at the book stupidly. I don't know where the warm and cold stubborn words related to wandering, youth, and travel that I can't understand come from. Words are in cold scrolls, but in the hearts of hot people.

One afternoon many years ago, I read a book repeatedly in a stuffy environment, and it was reading without purpose or mood; Then many years later, when I saw that book again, I didn't remember a single thing related to that book; All I know is that I have a stomach full of bitter water sprinkled in my memories outside of that book.

The feeling of studying behind closed doors is not friendly after all, it is like a stubborn person who is the enemy of the whole world. Generally, people who study behind closed doors are also people who study hard and persevere, such as Kuang Heng and Sun Jing. To a large extent, their youth has been reduced to the hidden door.

That Kuang Heng is said to have borrowed light from the wall, and I can't imagine what kind of psychology a person who grew up in such a depressing environment would have to face his journey after becoming famous. Perhaps, Kuang Heng will only have "books" in his future journey; What a sad thing it must be.

Youth, travel, and poetry and books are inexplicably involved. When I am quiet, I like to think about these things that have passed in my life for a long time, they are like residual smoke clouds, a little ostentatious, a little fanciful, a little comfortable; But they are all completely floating away, when I have no intention of staying, when I am not shocked; They are always light and obedient to attract me who has long since abandoned the faint style.

Youth is far away, and I have already heard you speak; The trip is far away, and so am I