[Prose] Hair Roots

My hair is growing black at the roots, does this symbolize the fading of the low tide, or does it represent new troubles. Low tide is like ocean tide, I can't swim, like drowning. The roots of my hair regularly bring me unexpected melancholy.

This is the winter of dreams.

My parents were with me, watching me, waiting for my inner self to wake up one day.

***

A few days ago, I went to Wenchang Palace with my father, passed the furnace for the Wenchang pen I just bought, put my hands together and prayed for fame. During the lottery session, a total of two lots were drawn. The first lottery was drawn very quickly, while the second lottery took a long time, and it was always impossible to cast Shengxuan.

The first lottery said: "It is necessary to know that advancing and retreating is always false, and it may not be complete to see the darkness. The pearl and jade have not changed, but it is in vain in the heart."

The second lot is like this: "Don't do this now, at that time, the tiger fell and Pingyang was bullied by the dog. How difficult is everything in the world, and the mountains and rivers are also hesitant."

When my father and I drew these two draws, we looked at each other. This was an unlucky draw. Although I am not particularly superstitious about these, I have to say that this time it is somewhat accurate. The former said: "You must know that it is a lie to talk about advancing and retreating at this time. If you look at the dark future, you will know that this matter may not be complete. The jewel in your heart has not changed, but it is in vain to hide in your heart." The latter said: " Today is different from what it used to be. The tiger fell in Pingyang and was bullied by the dog. What is so difficult to determine in the world, there should be no hesitation in the mountains and rivers.”

The gods felt that they knew something, the vanity and arrogance within me.

***

I feel very sad to get these two lottery tickets. After all, I have to blame myself for all this. I can't blame others and my depression, isn't it? As my father told me, he said to me; "I and your mother are worried about you, let's see when you will wake up..." Not so, I don't want to, but I also I know it's hard to argue because that's what I'm doing.

I don’t know the date of my illness. I don’t know if I’m getting better or not. Or is it because of my psychological factors from beginning to end? Yes, I didn't seem to wake up during this period of time. I longed that this was really a nightmare, not real, and I woke up soon.

In my sleep, my pale hair was mottled and peeled off, revealing black roots.