According to the Russian historian Georgy Fedotov, all the misfortunes of Russia stem from its choice of Slavic instead of Greek as its ecclesiastical language, which could become the lingua franca of the East if it had chosen Greek. Russia was thus isolated for a long time, until it suddenly and belatedly discovered all sorts of Western ideas and gave them an ugly shape. —This quote is from Czesław Miłosz's "The Testimony of Poetry".

This passage made me think that I may know why our country is using English as a second language, and maybe I am really scared.

Wake up late at night

I had to boil water to wash my hair that hadn't been washed for two days

Press the water heater button and kick it on the milk tea bottle

Foretold my moving and cleaning workload tomorrow

//

Jumping left and right in bed like a primitive man

Thinking that I was hungry but didn't have a lot of ingredients to handle

I remembered the KPI of eating three apples in four pure milk cartons that I needed to drink before moving tomorrow night

Speaking of KPIs, KPIs don't necessarily mean what you want

But that's fine.

//

This is not a poem

I'm just putting a bunch of running accounts

The interval takes the shape of a poem

[End of the small "poem"]

- Because, you know, that's what it feels like.

Today is also a day of being caught and beaten by life, a mess, I finally straightened everything from work to moving, my arms seem to be shaking a little uncontrollably because I have moved too many heavy things - but I just cut my hair, my hair is cut, then my life will be renewed, and my energy will be refilled.

Today's Xiao Lai: I'm really not interested in military books like "The Art of War", but I think it's compulsory for me, a treasure handed down by my ancestors, and other countries desperately admire, and it would be unreasonable for us to ignore it. I think this kind of military book has a specific purpose, and it doesn't respect feelings as much as poetry.

"Quietly Waiting for the Dawn" divides the running account into the shape of a poem is being typed by hand, please wait a moment,

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