Today, May 14, 2017, is Mother's Day.

My old classmate, who was 39 years old at the time, went to the crematorium today, and I was working in other places, so I couldn't go to see him off, which is a pity.

In the group of classmates, students have expressed their grief in various ways.

I write the following:

"Life is like a dream, a bottle is returned (Huan) to the river and the moon"

Woohoo lament, Cong Rong my friend.

It's easy to walk all the way, and you can reach Bliss early.

There is a spirit in heaven, if there is leisure.

Heaven is beautiful, don't be nostalgic.

I often go home to see my parents.

Wife and children, brothers and classmates.

Last year's Spring Festival, you blessed slightly.

But I did not see it, and I did not stand back.

The other day, before going to your house.

I have returned to you, and I have received it back.

If you have the Spirit, you will receive it.

I want to ask you, is heaven beautiful?

Heaven is beautiful, heaven is beautiful.

Beautiful and beautiful? Good, good, good.

One day, I will go too.

If that is then, you must remember.

Give me the wind and drink a thousand cups.

A classmate is a young man, and he once reprimanded Fang Xuan.

Pointing out the country and inspiring words.

Life is like a dream, happy and happy.

The sun, moon and stars, time is like an arrow.

After writing the above article, I suddenly thought of his old mother, how grief-stricken she must be today.

What a sad thing it is for a white-haired person to send a black-haired person! Crematorium in the city, I've been to this place many times. Sending relatives and friends, old and young, men and women.

Think about yourself, I have to come once after all, someone else sent me.

Every time I give someone away, I think about what it means to be alive, and notice that it's the meaning, not the meaning.

There has been no answer, and perhaps never will be. It's interesting to be alive, to the living self; Death is meaningful, for others who are alive. Life and death have always been a grand and eternal proposition.

Everybody, initially and eventually, will face it.

So numbness, until it's your turn, maybe it will be abrupt.

The process from birth to death is so short that it seems like a moment.

Everyone's leather robe or cloth coat has a small one underneath, so small that they can't feel it, and they think they are tall.

We all live indifferently, except for the people in our own circle, there may be some courtesy and mutual assistance. Everything we can know outside the circle, we are just spectators, complaining, emotional, and then giving up.

We are not noble, we are all small, we are not pure, we are all filthy.

Thus, a noble person, a pure person, a person who is detached from low tastes, is flaunted. Because we ordinary people can't do it, we can't do it and forget our selfishness, and we are flaunted for others.

How to distinguish between the so-called low-grade tastes within the framework of naturalness and sociality? Again, this is extremely controversial.

We just live selfishly until one day we are selfish and don't want to die.

As soon as you close your eyes and open them, it may just be a night or just a sleep, a nap. And once the eyes are closed, they can't be opened again, and it's a lifetime.

Born as human beings and standing in the world, we will always have a lot of bonds, and there will be some emotional or material entanglements with some people.

Parents and children, husbands and wives, relatives and friends, and even strangers.

I don't want to talk about all of this here, even today.

Here, I just want to talk about the emotions between men and women ~ the so-called love, the so-called happiness.

There are no more than two kinds of people in this world, men and women. Of course, society may be more than that. But let's just break it up in a simple and normal way.

between men and women, the so-called love; Happy, most are the same; The unfortunate, to each his own, is unfortunate.

We owe each other?!

Who owes whom happiness?!

In fact, owing and being owed are only because of the interlacing of your and my lives.

Meet in the rivers and lakes, forget each other in the rivers and lakes. In the clouds and rain of Wushan, there is a time to be free.

For whom are the blood and tears shed? Where is the green silk dyed with autumn frost? Crazy for whom, crazy for whom? For whom is it a lifetime of love and sorrow?

Who owes whom? Is it Linghu Chong who owes the little junior sister? Is Qiao Feng owing Ah Zhu? Is it the man who owes the woman? Or is it a mutual debt?!

The ending has long been predestined, and it is still the same.

Perhaps, in the bottom of my heart, I had an expectation, longing for that impossible possibility.

The scenery of the south of the Yangtze River used to be well known, Guo Jing, who kills two birds with one stone, and Qiao Huangrong, who is eccentric, and both jades are broken outside Xiangyang City.

Yang Guo and Aunt Xiaolongnu, who had a broken arm, took the eagle eagle and finally returned to the tomb of the living dead in Zhongnan Mountain. But the legend of the rivers and lakes continues to continue, and it is staged again and again.

Who owes whom? Who doesn't owe whom? Got the world but owed you?

Retreat to the mountains and forests with her, but forget about the rivers and lakes with you, but how can you forget it? !

The white-clothed sword faced the wind, and the wind messed up the white hair, but it couldn't blow away the memory.

The meeting of fate, the separation of fate.

But what is fate?!

Fate, luck? Transporter, life also?

The bright moon overhead once shone on the lonely grave of a thousand miles in Short Matsuoka.

Mr. Dongpo, who has nowhere to talk about the desolation, has been singing for thousands of years in the east of the river.

The wind is always blown away by the rain and the wind, who owes whom happiness?

Only then did he frown and go to his heart.

As children, most of us probably owe our parents.

But humanity has continued to multiply to the present day, and every human being is a son or a daughter, and the father and mother are also sons and daughters.

Perhaps, since the birth of human beings, especially after the so-called civilization and enlightenment, this is how they owe each other from generation to generation.

The world is big, but it's small.

The world is so big, I want to see it. But in my lifetime, I still try to see how much when I have money and leisure?!

In fact, with leisure, a glass of boiled water, a box of cigarettes, a leisure book, a mobile phone, as long as there is an Internet, the green smoke curls, I have the world.

With leisure, a humble room, a small table, a wooden chair, a small bed, in my dreams, in my wakes up and in sleep, I have the world.

With leisure, alone, driving alone, playing an old song, and moving slowly, I have the world. With leisure, being alone, letting go of everything, I am my world.

It turns out that my world is so small, huh?

yes, it's not too big.

Today, I have no intention of writing my "The Gods Mend the Heavens", and I will definitely make up for it in the future. Here, I would like to apologize to some of my book friends who have supported me.

Today, I would like to write this article, one to mourn my friend, and the other to cherish myself.

The dead are gone, but the living should be strong.

Here, I would also like to wish the old mother of my classmate and friend, who unfortunately passed away young, good health, strength and tenacity, and a happy "Mother's Day". Many of our students will pay attention to and care about your life in the future. You are old, and you mourn and change.

Cong Rong and my friend, go all the way.