写作之夜

In the middle of night, I want to write down something, but it would be too trivial and worthless to read, if I just recorded everything happening in a day like flowing water. If there is anything special today, it was a friend from China. She departed from ChongQing to Berlin, and transfered in XiaMen and Amsterdam. She left for three months. When she left, the ticket was 20000. When she came back, the ticket was 16000. I chose to stay, because it was too expensive. Everyone has a dream and want to achieve it. So they select poetry and distance, but reality is cruel. Someone got lost, someone came back without success. Only a part of people perserved, but what is the original meaning of their dreams. I thought, it changed over time. One is alone in a foreign country, faced with an empty room and missed family and friends. And you can image, the situation is not satisfactory at such a high price. I knew several friends, they didn't pass the language. And the feeling of wasting time was so worse, like a defeat in a war.

In the afternoon, I buyed a cup of chai tee milk and sat in the shop. It was carefully decorated. Then I ordered the takeaway in the restaurant. The city life is happy and simple, all you need is money to pay for the service. After the dinner, I began to play the hearthstone game until the three o'clock, finally I passed the second level under the guide after many failures.

what is life, I just forget, day and night, we repeat the same trajectory generation after generation. Study and work, then the marry, grow old over time slowly. Maybe, you have a child, who calls you father or mother, but they also have their own friends and partner, they have their hobbies and things.