Are we living, or are we living?
The power of the word "living" does not come from shouting or attacking, but from enduring, enduring the responsibility that life gives us, enduring the happiness and suffering, boredom and mediocrity that reality gives us.
Yu Hua's book made me read the beginning of the book and could not resist reading it in one breath, a family, a person, a life full of suffering.
Fugui's life is as clear as a movie in front of my eyes, so I can not calm down for a long time.
When he was young, he was an uneducated and unskilled loser, who was angry with his father and lost the family fortune. Perhaps because of this, the blessings of his life have been overdrawn by him, so there is the second half of his life suffering.
He recognized his own mistakes, changed his ways, and made a fresh start, and only after a few setbacks did he have a short, stable, and happy life with Jiazhen.
When he saw Long Er was beheaded, he was glad that he had nothing to escape, and he cherished everything he had more.
He thought he would be happy for the rest of his life, but the suffering of fate has just begun.
His two favorite children, Yauching and Fengxia, were kind, filial and friendly, so good two lives, but that quietly passed away.
His beloved wife Jiazhen left him in the torment of illness, caring son-in-law died in an accident, and his dependent nephew Bitterroot did not grow up peacefully, died early.
And he is still alive.
Being alive is pain and suffering for him.
Living is such a heavy thing.
One by one, his loved ones leave him and he ends up alone.
Instead, he seems to have realized that he has settled all his loved ones, and does not need to worry about his family when he leaves this world, and then he has no more worries, and he is accompanied by an old cow, and spends the rest of his life in an open-minded manner.
How many people can see through the trials and tribulations, see through life and death, see through life, and after a few changes, still laugh at life.
The weekend, the evening on time from work, walking home slowly, the mind sighs life.
And then I remembered my grandmother, who had a life full of pain and suffering, and ended up alone.
Even though she was full of suffering, she was full of love for life and passion for the people around her.
In those days of suffering, life was like a floating duckling.
I often blame myself for spending too little time with her, always chasing after my own life when I was young.
Some of the neck pain, waiting for the red light to look up and move the neck, found that the dark night sky with starbursts flashing, is the plane passing, I have not seen the plane as a child, always like to look for a flash in the sky full of stars in the air passing by the plane.
The heart suddenly felt some warmth.
On the way past the once bustling square, a long time have not been to the square to walk, after the epidemic, the square and then there is no shape and color of the square dance, playing children and walking people, only three or two passers-by, winter Norwegian square seems a little cold, even the lights are lonely.
And I can't help but sigh.
We are not alive, in front of the epidemic, everyone is very weak.
At any time, it is good to be alive.
This is the first time I've ever seen a woman in the world.