My memory has long been blurred by the feeling of the first ray of sunshine crossing my face in the morning. I still can’t recall the small shadow of the south of the Yangtze River when the rain hits the lotus leaves and the flowers enter the pond. When I look back, I can no longer see the scenery of the past; I suddenly see spring bamboo shoots rising from the ground, and the small tree in front of the door has grown to the sky, but the stream suddenly dries up, and the blue sky quietly disappears. To fend for myself and let nature take its course became the reason to comfort me for the sadness caused by not being able to see the scenery of the past, but there was still a feeling of emptiness in my heart.

The dark night, the bright moon, and the cold cyan light fell on me, and I began to learn to analyze myself.

I am used to the pleasure of frantically pressing keys when sending text messages, but it is so "difficult" to write greetings to relatives and friends, and the pen in my hand is also lingering. It seems that this method of communication can only become a nostalgia for my previous life; the endless reveries in the dead of night have become the fairy tales of my childhood. Think about it, I will not be able to enjoy this kind of luxury that fills my heart for a few years; in the new world, I see differences and gaps. So I learned to keep a distance from others, for fear that the feelings I gave would become the laughing stock of others. I also learned to disguise myself in the crowd, use politeness to cover up inferiority, and use humility to cover up weakness. My eyes spent more time focusing on the screen, because the surrounding scenery was no longer charming. Even though the arrival of spring pulled my heart towards the wilderness of the sky, I was unable to appreciate the original beauty because of the sadness of the change of things and people.

Transformation is always transformation. Maybe you can live better only by breathing today's air, because the past has weathered, sunk into the ground, and is suffocating; and the future is still brewing, and I can no longer guess.

The illusion of the hanging garden can still be reflected in any place with water, as long as you still have a daydream about it; the majestic shouts of the Spartan warriors are still echoing in the deep valley. If you don’t believe it, forget everything and listen.

Although the past is the past, it has become a place where many people put their hearts. It has become my habit to stay nostalgic for my hometown and reminisce about the classics, and I often think of forgotten times. Because we have forgotten the pain of the past, we indulge in the beauty of the past.

In the era of flying text messages, spaces full of garbage, and streets with hurried footsteps, it is difficult for me to find my own time and space. I feel tired and even suffocated. My childhood playmate has disappeared, perhaps I passed him by in the vast sea of ​​people. Today's loneliness has long extinguished the inner impulse for true love, and the longing for beauty has been sleeping for a long time.

But the sun is still so bright, although there is no waterfall to bring it brilliant colors; the flowers still bloom in spring, although there are no poets to accompany them to recite eternal poems; the rain is still so desolate and gentle, although it does not wet the green gauze that floats in the pavilion when seeing off the beloved when she returns.

Everything is changing, but something is not changing. The shadow of the future may be reflected in the staring eyes.

If it transforms now, it will become the future. I always look forward to the fact that tomorrow will definitely be better than today, so I have the motivation and courage to continue living. Because the bright world flashed through my mind in the darkness, so the sunshine also spilled into my dream.

I really can’t guess about the future and the present after transformation. We can only place hope in it, pray that it will be safe, and all we can do is live a good life now.

When transformation occurs over a period of time, it is no longer called transformation. All that I have written here has subsequently become an example of pedantry.

Duan Mingming

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