The youngest day in your life starts from the moment you watch the second hand cross 12 o'clock, so you are always looking forward to whether something good will come. .
But usually you are disappointed, life is as inevitable and ordinary as you have to get up to pee, and at night, you find that people all over the world are just like you, and no one is better than the other.
It can only be said that we have been looking forward to it, and it is sad to think of it.
1 The beauty of good morning is
like riding a bicycle around the transparent global village and seeing the waking up and dreams of people all over the world in an instant. People leave the warm bed in the morning, they urinate for the first time in the morning at the age of 7; the 15-year-old shaves his beard for the first time in his life, and his face is full of wounds; the oil gradually enters the pot, and the sandwich is bitten into an ugly defect. The milkman brought the first bottle of milk in the morning. Most people don't cry in the morning. Everyone is full of longing for the beauty of the morning. We are both afraid and happy about the unknown.
When I got up early when I was a child, there was only urging and reluctance, and I kept thinking about that irritable woman calling me to get up again. Later, when I got up early, my mood was like the earthy fragrance coming from the window after the heavy rain. It was fresh and pleasant. Years later, the mood of waking up early is as if the cat's claws have smashed through the corrugated cardboard shell, soft and irritable.
But in a few years, time will make us fall in love with the morning again. The old woman who gets up at four every night said that there is no better time than three or four in the morning. The gap between today and tomorrow is like a veil, I often hear my name called at this time and it fills me with hope.
Good afternoon and the weather is fine
. These are two impressive clips. They are not very good, but the weather is fine.
Passing through a cemetery in a certain part of the Middle East, it was a dilapidated house, no one had lunch, the sun was shining, the man said this was his house, a group of children, ragged, "I live here with 14 children, there is no water, No electricity, no water pipes, but we are not alive. God created us and will not abandon us."
Somewhere in Asia, a six or seven-year-old shoe shiner. The men gave him money and candy after polishing their shoes. The boy opened his mouth and seemed not to be too proud. "When I was a child, I changed 20 soles." He leaned against the railing, "I want a lot of money. My dad loves me the most." The
sun hung in the center of the sky and looked down on its children, African women sang songs and beat their sticks until flour was flying all over the sky, and busy doctoral students drove their cars to feed hamburgers to their mouths inside. There is infinite positive energy in the sun, which explodes under the catalysis of a lunch. The rich man's Lamborghini lemon yellow, dazzling by the sun, disappears like a fly in a flash, and the Koreans who ride around the world compare the size of the Asian and European flies in the hotel in Nepal. You are like being released. They are like flies, their lives are similar, their footsteps are in a hurry, their lovelorn proposes marriage, they are all passers-by at noon, and no one should stay for a long time.
The ending song of the film is very nice. There is a snail crawling on the screen all the time. It is a common image that you and I understand. The last sentence of the lyrics gradually fades out: "Life is just a cycle."
Good night, I love you
at night. All habitually began to lose control, and fear and fear were especially blatant under the stars at night.
The woman was sobbing at a person's dinner; the woman leaned against the kitchen and said, "I am most afraid of the passage of time, I have not had children yet, and no one has called me Mommy"; the woman lay in bed with tears of sadness for some reason rushing. We were looking forward to a miracle for a day, but nothing happened. Even though we understand that miracles are more unreliable than any promise in the world, we put kongming lanterns all over the sky at night, and we still yearn for the deepest feelings, longing for the side of the pillow. Whispers about love.
Four minutes before the end of the day, a girl monologues to the camera with a bit of melancholy: "Sadly, I have been looking forward to something earth-shattering good things to happen all day, to make this day memorable, but for me Said, this day is as ordinary as usual. I'm just an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life, and nothing interesting has ever happened. However, although there is no feat, I have worked hard all day, this evening, The thunder and lightning seem to be a little different."
And how my own July 24, 2010 lived, I flipped through the almighty Weibo and found the answer. I struggled to get up at about 9:10 in the morning, sharing a rare vacation with a group of friends, watching the scenery in a house in the middle of the water, watching a group of water birds fly over to say hello, and poop in my face , and then at night under the seemingly bright moonlight, waiting for a man to come and say to me, good night, I love you.
This day of living should be spent in love.
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