On the night after Valentine's Day, I read a story, the story of Richard Feynman and Elaine. It was a sane, rational scientist and love story.

In a trance, there seems to be something gained, but it seems to be insensitive.

When I came back to my senses, I had a feeling of surprise, which came from a kind of self-doubt and worry in my heart.

I wonder if I have forgotten the feeling of love, and I am also worried that I have really forgotten love.

This feeling, at this moment, is very unsettling.

It's been four years since we got married, and love is no longer so important. Because there seem to be many more important things in front of us, the most important of which is how to write a serial of millions of words, how to reflect one's own value, and how to make more money.

Life is not easy, life is not easy.

Trying to deal with all kinds of crises and sorrows in life, trying to ponder the emotions and thoughts of everyone in the pen, and trying to arrange all the fate and coincidences in a certain world.

Those who are hot-blooded, how should they be hot-blooded?

Those people who are young and civil, how should they be civilized?

Those who are humorous, how should they be humorous?

Three novels, the first one is trying to explore a world, the second part wants to entrust all his literary youth, and the third part is trying to pursue the entertainment that everyone likes.

In the middle of the night, the cold rain was dripping, listening to Yuan Lanfeng telling the story, watching the storyteller burst into tears.

Memories are always so beautiful, only those who are still in the memories are extremely troubled.

I know that one day, when I am also clinging to only memories, all this should be beautiful now.

So all of a sudden, all the unpleasantness didn't seem to matter so much.

So, suddenly, there will be an urge to rekindle love. Just like that year's love, everything in love, everything seems to be pleasant, nothing unpleasant happens, at least in the memory.

At this point, there is a kind of surprise again. Still accompanied by doubts and worries.

I seem to have been defeated by life.

yes, I'm really beaten by life.

is so defeated that there is no skin, so in the past few years, I have always been so restless, always so lonely and autistic, and accompanied by lonely self-appreciation. It's always so hysterical, and it's accompanied by self-righteous seeing through the red dust.

Then all I thought was to flee. Thinking that I have made money, I should go, to see the desert wolf smoke that I have written about, and to appreciate the inside and outside of the Great Wall that I have written about.

I will also fantasize that if I stand in the Gobi Desert, I should be able to feel the roar of the cavalry iron armor, and standing at the top of the pass, I can see the mountain of corpses and the sea of blood under the corner of the wall on a certain day.

Then, with a little remembrance, continue walking.

Or live in a house in the country, just looking at the stars and the frogs chirping. There are only old people in the countryside, and I am more suitable for old people with smiles on their faces.

Suddenly, reality was in front of me again, and I hadn't escaped yet, so I should have been hysterical.

It was also in the middle of the night, and the cold rain was dripping, slowly subsiding a little.

Regardless of bravery, I still want to go, this time not to escape, but to enjoy all the good things in this world.

The beauty, the vastness, the characters, the history, the feelings, and the love, and the innocent smile of the little baby.

Sometimes, when a hobby turns into a job, it becomes so annoying that I don't like it so much.

Therefore, writing is always easy to become a kind of torment, and he is my way to escape from everything, like the only way to break through the cage in the night.

So, I began to dismiss him, began to subconsciously avoid it, and even occasionally began to despise it. Only when reality is breathless will it be faced, and it will be needed.

Before, I enjoyed it, the joy of creating a world or a story.

Now, it's time to enjoy it again.

Let it take me away!

Take everything with me!

To be a person who only knows pleasure should be what you should pursue all your life. With such a life, everything will be beautiful.

Only in this way can memories and reality, as well as the future, coincide.

Having said so much, it's just hesitation, and it won't be long before I stand in my thirties, a family, and a heart that is not hot.

If you want to say that you love life, you don't have to be too high.

A little heavier, more longing.