On the first day, God made a sun. It's dazzling.
The next day, God made water. It was very wet. He wet your feet as soon as he walked, and then he made wind again, scratching his body itchy.
On the third day, God made grass. When you mow the grass will cry, you have to comfort them and speak softly. If you touch the tree, you will become a tree.
On the fourth day, God made a cow. The heat comes out of their mouths when they breathe.
On the fifth day, God made a plane. Even if you are not riding, you can watch it fly by.
On the sixth day, God became a man. Men, women and children. I like women and children because I don’t stick when I kiss them.
Rest on the seventh day. God made a cloud shadow. If you watch for a long time, you can see all their stories.
Harry, a successful sales manager, wakes up at seven every day, reports the weather forecast on the radio, toasts a slice of bread, and smiles in the mirror while brushing his teeth. However, his family life is a mess. His wife left him, and because he was busy with work, he forgot to pick up the children from the station so that the children became estranged from him.
Harry, in a trance, killed George's dog on a rainy day.
Harry and George started their journey by accident.
George never hides anything. If he likes you, he calls you to be George's friend, hugs you tightly, and laughs loudly at you. I don’t like you and ignore you, show no expression, mess with you or ignore your existence at all.
George's love is not obscure or hidden. He loves her and tells her directly to let her marry him.
When he opened his arms and looked at the sky, the blue sky was clear and clean, and the wind blew the clouds farther and farther, like a lake wide open.
When he stroked the grass, those newly cut grasses showed green stubble, and there was a faint fragrance of grass. When he touched them, he even got a little scratchy.
When he rubbed the tree trunks, those thick trunks had rough textures, pressed against them with hands and face, and smelled of wood.
Holding the note with the address in his hand, he always maintained a posture, standing alone in the pouring rain, curtain-like rain, and the smell of mud.
I don't know if the true Mongolian patients really think of themselves as brave Mongolians on horseback in the desert. However, perhaps, the less you understand, the closer to happiness, and the smaller the desire, the closer to happiness.
Just like when I was a kid, the old man who carted pancakes every morning, his pancakes were big and round. His pancakes were not crispy but fried dough sticks. The fried pancakes were soft and golden, not hard and skinny. , The heat is just right. Turquoise coriander, green and white scallions and shiny black sesame seeds are evenly sprinkled on the round pancakes. Whether it is a cold winter day or a hot summer day, every day is uninterrupted, he goes out to the stall every day, and he wears a clean white coat. I line up for a long time every day, but I don't feel tired at all, the happiness of my childhood, the happiness of a pancake.
On the eighth day, God did George. He helped Harry find himself, and he finally returned to the embrace of God.
And maybe, people with Mongolian disease like George, they really have those simple, primitive and simple joys and happiness.
The happiness of the sky, the happiness of the grass, and the happiness of the tree trunk.
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