Yesterday at around 1:50 a.m., I was woken up by an earthquake.

My home is in the epicenter, and it may be difficult for friends who have not experienced it to experience that feeling.

The rumbling sound was accompanied by violent shaking, and the individual seemed so small under such the power of heaven and earth.

I still remember the time ten years ago, I solemnly filled out the remittance form, turned my entire month's manuscript fee into a small anonymous remittance, and handed it over to a certain association whose credibility was doubtful.

At that time, I didn't think that how much money would go to my compatriots, let alone any trivial help, just a feeling, an inexplicable responsibility, and a pale expression that I share with you.

A few years later, my hometown began to receive endless earthquakes, and finally I gradually understood the kind of destruction that natural disasters can have on people's hearts.

In the middle of the night, the residents of the community rushed out, the elevator failed, only to hear the sound of footsteps panicked, and after a while, the downstairs sounded the sound of car starting, and the noise of people.

When I went to the treatment this morning, the urban area was unexpectedly empty and depressed.

It's the same every time.

I'm probably the kind of breed with a big heart like a nest of melons, the first time I experienced it that year, I played the game calmly, and it wasn't until the second aftershock passed and I won a game of carry before I went downstairs to see the excitement.

Yesterday, I still fell asleep.

However, I have always had a nervous breakdown, and I barely fell asleep until 5 o'clock in the morning.

It is inevitable to think about leaving the city and returning to the countryside, about studying, working and writing, about the future, about choices.

In fact, there are a few words that I have always wanted to say to you, not complicated, about this book.

When I first made up my mind, I went to Xiaobai, pretending to be forced to slap my face, ambiguously pickling up girls, occasionally starting a BMW, and rushing to kindergarten.

You can laugh at it, I just make money.

The difficulty of serving the white reader is well known. Picky and rational, I don't like to pay, I don't like to reward, I conclude that the author is mentally retarded if I don't agree with him, and I have to report it in waves if I am extremely unhappy.

Am I trying to earn money to support my family?

Spending twice as much energy to earn a share of money, and spending normal energy to earn twice as much, how to choose, more and more authors are voting with their feet.

However, the world is impermanent, accidents come again and again, three deletions and three changes, and the outline is all reversed.

At this point, what to do?

The tone in front has been set, and suddenly I don't want to write this, write that, write what?

In the perseverance, the desire to pour out can no longer be restrained.

Anyway, it's already like this, so the two roads are either hastily finished, or something else is used to fill in the missing part of the ambiguity.

In fact, the so-called dry goods in the book are really not of much value.

In terms of the realization of meaning, the length leads to the lack of details, and many things can only be seen hilarious.

The level is there or far beyond mine, you don't need to read it to understand, the rest of the readers, themselves are here for leisure, what kind of big-tailed wolf do you pretend, what kind of private goods do you pour?

How to say it, I can't help it, how can I cheat money if I don't pour water like this?

Second, I think it would be a bit of a comfort if one percent of the readers could laugh and suddenly figure something out, or gain something useful.

What comfort?

There is much comfort in giving and receiving little.

So in fact, this is a paradox, if you don't pour private goods, don't you get more if you pretend to be forced to slap your face?

Actually, no, after the first time the article was deleted, I didn't know what to write with the previous idea, but unfortunately I have so many homemade black cars......

Now it's a main line, growth.

It's like I used to be confused and afraid, I always think, I'm only 19 this year, if I really return to the immortal unexpectedly one day, will I leave something to this world?

Many people in their hometown are thinking about immigration, and those who have a choice can go, but what if they don't?

Life has to go on.

Thinking and medicine can not be stopped.

……

The above is all nonsense, in fact, my real purpose is just to ask for some subscriptions, don't force it if you don't like it, and make up for it if you have the ability, and come to the group to tease the welfare, okay?

It's nice onno.

Finally, I recommend a friend's mythical psychic, there are brothers who like this type, you can collect it and other fat