Crush the floating clouds for the moon

The end of the month, the end of the year. It's cold and cool at night, and I'm busy at work. I hope that the next days will not be dusk and late at night, I hope that the weather in the future will be free of strong winds and blizzards, I hope that there will be no ditches and tribulations in my future life... But, in the end, it is my hope. Years after years of resistance, empty days and so on are still a big dream, and the imaginary birth is just like a mirror flower and water moon. No one can work hard, no one will be at the end of the road, a little harder, you will be elevated.

Many years ago, I saw my silver-haired grandmother at the top of the Jingting Pavilion in Jiangnan Shishan, kind and healthy, and my granddaughter Gongxiao. Last year's Spring Festival, I watched Yan Rusongyu's train captain bend over to open the side door of a garbage can for a healthy young male passenger on the smooth high-speed railway in Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Shanghai, and Anhui. More than three months ago, on a weekend night, at 10 p.m., I saw a lawyer on Line 5 of the Hangzhou Metro, known as the "King of Transfers," holding "Jurisprudence." Last week, there was a good rest day in the sunshine, and I heard a friend say that at ten o'clock at night, I was still "galloping" on the Hangyong Expressway, and I arrived home at 12:00 a.m., washed up, and fell asleep. In the freezing winter, I was still in the crowded West Lake Shore Pedestrian Street, and I saw couples fighting, regardless of their faces. I also saw that in the late autumn of falling, there was a dirty beggar on the street who grabbed the freshly discarded noodles on the side of the road with his hands, and ate the taste of meat, and the soup was not left. Life is varied, the world is complicated! Just as the so-called world has thousands of purples and thousands of reds, there will also be thousands of hardships, how can the age of prosperity live out the cold of old age! I should not be crazy or bored, and move forward firmly.

The winter sun is very warm, sprinkled on the body, falling on the riverbank, shining on the city and the wilderness, driving back, the steering wheel is free, but the direction is not free. Turning around and crossing the river and crossing the bridge, the bustling city is bustling for a while. The road and bridge engineering master carried a pickaxe and a shovel on his shoulders, one after the other, step after step, ending the day's project, and the sunset was illuminated and gradually drifted away. The birds flew high, and the sun was far away. I am on my way home, and I am practicing.