Stream of Consciousness (4)

November 18

Reading Yates' Young Hearts Weeping Saturday night. When I was reading, I was thinking: the uniqueness of self is an illusion, in fact, everyone's dreams are almost the same. At this moment, self and dreams don't seem to be that important, so what are we going to pursue to get rid of these? Temporary happiness?

I was thinking while reading this book, maybe no one cares about what you wrote, such a thick book. What is the author trying to convey with this book? Maybe the author doesn't know it himself.

dry, powerless. Maybe it's an upset stomach, maybe it's just the cold weather, maybe it's the loud music, maybe it's just me being bored, I have nothing to kill, and the soles of my feet are cold. This year, I still haven't come across a book that I fell in love with at first sight, a book that I can't let go of. Not being able to experience the story immersively, and always spinning around the periphery of the story, this is what I really feel when I read the author's novels. After reading it, it seems that there will be nothing left, the exquisite narrative, and they are nothing more than that.

When I sit in the office on Friday, I feel like this moment, unable to type a word, no enthusiasm, irritability, the same irritability, the output of disloyalty can be thrown in the trash.

There was a sound of rain outside the window. Is it the feeling of loneliness at this moment? It is the energy that is too weak, like that weak lamp, flickering and draining itself. I just want to figure out one thing, even if I leave this place, will things be different? Will there be a new world in another place?

The woman on her left looks like she is in her 30s, and she looks neat and beautiful. At first glance, you can tell that she is a successful person in the workplace. If you look closely at the business card she handed over, the marketing director, she has been rooted in the society for many years, reading countless people, and aura Full. A clean silver-gray suit, a beautiful black and white tie, and a very textured sound. I watched the conversations toss through the air like a ball, answered tactfully, and the field was full of masters, and no one dropped points. I am just a novice breaking into the court. I am clearly on the court, but I can only watch. When the other party gestures, I can only smile. After the meeting, the mood suddenly changed, the world was opened up by a conversation, the art of conversation. When conversation becomes art, it is the moment of true selflessness. The other is you, and you are the other.

Every career is all-encompassing, and every new encounter in this career is to open up a new world, gradually deepen, break the unfamiliar, a little bit away from ignorance, and experience joy and satisfaction beyond imagination. Young ignorance can be forgiven, but I don't want to use youth as a shield, youth is not an advantage. I used to think that youth has infinite possibilities, but the more I go back, the more lost I become.

At Jingyi's house, sitting in a daze. She was changing clothes, "Is there something wrong with the design of this dress, is it because my head is too big? It's a bit strangling! This black coat is perfect." Two large bags of Double Eleven, we pushed the electric donkey before Send the courier back. Why am I in her house? Because I love her projector!

When she puts on a hard hat, it's like a plot in a Taiwanese TV series, which is incredible. Sitting in the back seat of her electric donkey, the wind was blowing, and the night was already falling. At that moment, I felt that I loved Xiamen very much. This was one of the few happy moments I had.

How can I get the talent I deeply long for? There is a deep sense of frustration whenever I caption each week's pictures. The invisible opponent, Song Qiongjie, was praised by everyone for his artistic conception. He is a poet, he is a great genius, the people around him say so. "Between the morning and the evening, all are thoughts. It's like the sun, moon and stars, like the sky full of sunrise."

"A pool of clear autumn, a piece of colorful clothes, a cup of time, once the past, if the two love for a long time, it should be a waste of time." "The autumn wind is silent, caressing the surface of the water. The time has passed, and the waves are waiting." "Look at the clear water and blue sky, The lights were dimmed again." "The sky is bright and the air is clear, and the wind is gentle. The autumn sky is clear and the spring is clear and the moon is bright." Gentle wind sketches green branches. Occasionally it falls bright red, which is the strong yearning." After repeated setbacks, I was finally able to face my own failure and lack. Maybe that's why I try to read, reading doesn't seem pure.

When it comes to words, I often say be truthful. But is this also an excuse to be lazy and save energy and brains? What state do I want to achieve? Any language can be switched freely, but at the moment I seem to have only my own style and still need to learn. Because this is my job, it's something I like, and it's something I'm fairly good at. On the weekends, I plan to watch a little more design stuff. I have just left school and I am still a newcomer to the society. What I really learned from social work is: the world in my mind is always narrow, jump out, jump out!