Chapter 14 i hit autumn

In the long heat of this summer, the early morning hours are probably the most comfortable.Just make it a habit that as soon as the sun breaks, it must be morning. Around 4:30, it's time for me to get up, or fall asleep. This is the law of my life. But I went to bed early last night, around eleven o'clock.When I woke up, it was not yet dawn, and I was about to go back to sleep, when I suddenly felt that the buzzing of mosquitoes and the movement of the air were a bit special, unlike the dense midnight. I looked at the watch, and sure enough, it was already five o'clock. I got up, brushed myself clean, and walked out of my smoky room. Just as I stepped out of the corridor, I let Qiu hit a bucket hard.

First there was a gust of wind, Shi Shiran hit, like a huge skirt, without any explanation, it squeezed me from head to toe, like squeezing toothpaste, and immediately I felt very happy.I'm not as energetic in the summer as I am in the winter, it's just a matter of keeping my head clear.Autumn wants to come and solve it for me first, why not do it. The sky that has oppressed the whole summer suddenly became very high. Looking up - countless small white clouds that look like rotten silver are neatly arranged on the pure blue sky. Lovely aura, I can't wait to hold them down and eat a couple of bites.I see a face in the sky.Thinking of this song written a long time ago, my mood is very different, and I am much older—are I old?I have been standing there watching, endlessly, I want to see it slowly disappear, slowly but firmly stored in my place.

There are more people coming and going, some people look like me, it is more romantic, I bless them; some people look at me strangely, and leave quickly, I bless them too, because they are busy for something.Life is like this, you always have to do something or feel something, both of these processes are worthy of respect and cannot be neglected.Just like me, I have to stick to my position, like an old antelope, calmly guarding my network, the steel wire edges of those jars.It’s good at six o’clock. There are juicy and delicious fresh meat buns at the gate of the garden, a thick layer of red and bright spicy oil, emerald green coriander, tofu brains dotted with smoked kohlrabi like stars, and enthusiasm like a 128K cat. The deep-fried dough sticks, the soy milk like a beautiful and demure female netizen, and the scallion hot noodle pancakes that are burnt on the outside and tender on the inside like a close friend.

There are rows of houses here, and there is a story behind every window, or it happened to me, or it is what I want to hear now.Every sleepwalking man is as restless as I am, every woman in a nightgown has been loved or is in love, every old man is rich, every child is fresh.Every puppy is very lively, and every pigeon is very well-behaved.Every morning, though I am different, always dreaming of adventure, always yearning for fiery passions, always played by surly reality, woken from frenzy by today's rare weather.I'm not alone anymore, am I? It is this loneliness, like a quilt, covered in a very high altitude, with the change of the number of people in my room, or low, or swooping, or tightly entwined, or fluttering.The beauty is beautiful, a bit cruel, I know.

Hey, my Beijing, Beijing with traffic control yesterday, Beijing with the highest summer temperature in the country this year, Beijing with such a beautiful autumn hitting my nerves, completely messed up my life, completely unfolded my story, and unfolded my Beijing, which is carefully laid out into a piece of recycled white paper.