Yesterday, another colleague and friend suffered a sudden cerebral infarction, not yet, not yet the age of formal retirement. I know, I know, I know I'm over half a hundred years old and hear about this kind of thing
author：Cold pools stop water
Yesterday, another colleague and friend suffered a sudden cerebral infarction, not yet, not yet the age of formal retirement. I know, I know, I know that at the age of more than half a hundred years of my age, hearing about this is not the first time, and it will never be the last. This colleague and friend said that his untimely death was not a big deal, but it was really too sudden, too sudden, too sudden. In fact, I myself still look at death relatively lightly, but whenever I think of interacting with them before they die, I am often devastated. Let's just say that this colleague and friend, the last contact or interaction with him should be a party building activity to visit the former residence of Da Chong Qiu Jin. He was very literate and knowledgeable about history, so he and I had a good conversation. I don't remember many details of talking to him, but I must remember him saying something to the statue of Qiu Jin, he said: "Qiu Jin is the beautiful jade that belongs to autumn, and the autumn wind rises and the white clouds fly, but unfortunately there is no one who really understands her to protect this beautiful jade..."
Oops, no sighs, don't want to say more. I only know, I only know, I only know that Tetsuko Kuroyanagi has a sentence in the article "The Little Bean by the Window" that is quite in line with my mentality at this time: There is nothing more terrible in the world than having eyes but not being able to find beauty, having ears but not appreciating music, having a mind but not being able to understand what is true. Not touched nor passionate...