Come here!!

In autumn and October, there are many harvests, and at this time node the familiar grains are collected, sold, and stored, and at this time node, for individuals, the year-end summary has also quietly opened.

I grew up in a small third-tier city, living in a second-tier provincial capital, with a little temperament, fantasizing about the day when Bole could be appreciated by Maxima after all, and then realize financial freedom, and I could unscrupulously pay for those good-looking skins。。。。。。

Playing games has become the sustenance of all bad days, and there are too many people who are unwilling not to let go, clinging to yesterday's madness, which makes people obsessed but also confused, and they don't know where to go。。。。。。

01

I may never see that child again for the rest of my life. I don't think that kid would have thought, would never have thought that he was being written into a book by a person, that he was

Be the beginning of a book. He won't remember me at all. On weekends, when the office is less crowded, there is a feeling that I am walking on a quiet path, and a street lamp marks a bright circle in the night, providing time and space for my own thinking.

In late autumn, there is the invisible decline of willow branches and leaves, and the smell of snow dyeing the earth as early winter approaches.

I played with him for a while, and he won't remember that bright morning afternoon, in a house, I watched intently as he ate steamed buns. Tell him about the east and west. Even now he had forgotten that those things were no longer there for him, as if they had never happened.

But it is also possible to remember. It's like scattered branches and leaves have their own history. No matter how much it was kept in his memory, only he could read it.

Maybe one day he will envision where that person came from and where he is going, and he may also write that person into a book. But that had nothing to do with me, it was just his own impressions and assumptions, a part of his own life.

The boy is more than two years old, with a bulging belly with all the cuteness of this age, when I handed him the bun, I found that the bun seemed to be as big as his face, I looked at him curiously, imagining how his little mouth could eat this huge thing, he pointed to the bun, but couldn't think of how to express it, roughly wanted me to show goodwill, please help him break the bun into a weight that he can hold, I still looked at him, looked at him, I thought a lot at the time, we will soon be separated,

This child and I will soon be lost in this glazed city, scattered in the world surrounded by altars, and no one will be able to find anyone.

So do we, me and you. Well, you say no, but it's probably because we forgot, or we didn't realize it, and what we forgot and didn't realize was like never happening.

02

The wind was blowing a little bit today, after I returned to work within the system. I'm a regular visitor to the office. It's not a good place to read and enjoy purity. Every college student in my heart seems to be familiar and drifts away - I don't notice where they ran from, they will run and shout their names over and over again, shout their feelings over and over again, run over and over again shouting their dreams, run into the sunshine, jump and run into that bright circle, shouting at a big tree or not knowing something, people with hearts are always like this, they linger in their senses, everything in the world of Buddha is visualized in front of them, so cute that I envy me.

Sometimes, it reminds me of what Confucius said about Mr. Green, who only knows that there are three seasons in a year, because there are only three seasons in his life, and he has never seen winter, and how to witness the melting of snowflakes, sometimes people don't know and are not stunned, I think it makes sense.

The newcomers to the system are like Mr. Green。。。。。。 It's like if I told them it was a dead tree: "Yes, it's dead, it's dead." "Oh," they thought for a moment, "but when did it die?" "I don't know when, it looks like it's long gone." "How did it die?" Before I could reply, they began to talk about it, "I'll tell you, let me tell you!" There was a man who brought a basin of hot water, and he came here, and he was ...... --, it," and the boy looked at me, and saw that I was laughing, and he changed his words, "No, no, yes, there was a man who came here, and he took something, and he took something, and he took it, and he got ...... it," and the girl's eyes kept on the boy, seriously expecting a definite answer: "What happened to it then?" They themselves don't know what is right or wrong, and gossip is one of the characteristics of people.

"How did it die?" touched me by the humility and self-confidence of the inactioner, who was neither ashamed of his ignorance nor embarrassed by his miscalculations, as if it were all taken for granted. Ignorance and conjecture are taken for granted. I said, "I don't know exactly how he died." ”

Now I'm a little confused, is he going to ask, what is death, how is life, how does it become death? What is the dividing line in between, what is it? What is death? What is the state, or what is the feeling?

It sounds like saying: we don't know where we're going to end up and where we're going

What are the people who go to defect?

03

Outside the window, the first snow of the year fell, white and consistent. I listen to the Himalayas every morning, and I don't care what I put on it, and the formation of a habit takes time to accumulate and the ability to endure loneliness.

Inertia can lead to a lot of things, just like the butterfly effect. Most of the time during the day, I sit on the card seat, thinking about things, swiping WeChat, thinking about things, swiping Weibo, thinking about things, having lunch, most people who work in enterprises and institutions have the same daily fate as me, I don't know when I want to write something called. It doesn't satisfy my show off of knowledge, my little sister used to tell me that the speed at which I write, she will definitely block me, too slow, it will take a long, long time to update a paragraph or some text, it's true, I'm not good at organizing words, generally organizing a decent text, it will be very time-consuming.

A few days ago, a little girl called me uncle, and after a while, "it will be uncle, grandpa", I felt a special relief, I was relieved, I almost had to thank him. Suddenly one day someone calls you uncle, suddenly one day someone calls you uncle, and one day, when someone calls you grandfather, how do you feel?

In winter, the sun moves from one side to the other, and the temperature only changes at noon. I saw a few sparrows jumping and chirping in the withered bushes, they are so small and have very little fat, the sparrow meat is not very delicious to eat, when I was a child, I went to the river to catch fish and shrimp, there are always leeches at the bottom of the underwater rocks, adults say that they are bloodsuckers, especially when catching small shrimp, we are also afraid, but fear can not stop the heart of the persistence of catching.

04

The end of the year is approaching, and it is about to reach the end of the three hundred and sixty days of the year, whether it is flowers and plants, cats and dogs, or people, they are all ruined or lonely. This season seems to be particularly suitable for saying goodbye, and the gray and gloomy eyes seem to be brewing a grand end. But obviously, goodbye is unlikely to be a joyous event.

Wrapped in a bulky winter coat, I sat unintentionally and had no intention of studying, and when I heard the call of the head teacher, I was excited.

"Your mother asked you to go home, and your grandfather was not very good. ”

In fact, my grandfather has been hospitalized for a month, and his condition has become worse and worse in the past few days, and the children in the family have come to talk to my grandfather one by one. The sky is not so gloomy, and occasionally the sun shines into the ward full of the smell of disinfectant water, and that beam of light, through the cold, struggles to survive, makes people feel pity. The trembling when my grandfather stretched out his hand to try to hold his children and grandchildren was the few remaining beams of light that could shine on him to the end of his life, gradually fading, but it was more and more unwilling to extinguish.

Grandpa's consciousness is quite clear, he can recognize who we are, and occasionally hesitate, grandma is on the side to whisper a reminder. I looked at my grandmother's face,

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