Chapter 5 old work

Tidying up the drawers, I took out a few of my old works and read them under the lamp.I didn’t have these things at hand for a long time, but in recent years, some kind-hearted friends found them by accident in second-hand bookstores or on their own bookshelves, and they were always very enthusiastic to give them to me, so some of them I have almost lost. I have forgotten what I have written, and now I have the opportunity to see it again.These things often make me blush or sigh slightly after reading them, and then put them in the drawer casually, not wanting to be seen by others casually.Just like that, one drawer was almost full.

Tonight I tidied up the drawers and casually flipped through a few volumes under the lamp.Judging from the date recorded at the end of the manuscript, the earliest published sketches and creations were all written in 1925.Of course, there are earlier ones, but they were never published in official journals, or were never collected in collections after publication, and of course I can’t remember them now.Just counting the writing dates of the few articles I have seen now, they are all written more than 30 years ago, nearly 40 years ago.After reading it myself, some of them can still recognize what they wrote; some just can't remember that they wrote it by themselves.This kind of unfamiliarity is even worse than not being able to remember an old friend who has not seen for many years.If someone copied these old works and showed them to me, saying that they were someone else's stuff, I might completely believe it.

Thirty years, what a long time, what a long road.However, tonight, recalling under the lamp, how easy, how fast, and even how confused these years passed.Some articles seem to have been written yesterday, and some things seem to have happened only yesterday, but they have already become history, and in terms of time, they are already a page of history that will never be turned back. Some wishes are still an unfulfilled wish; some dreams are still in my vision; but some tears and laughter in my youth have been covered by the dust of the years, if I don’t fiddle with it specially , for a moment it is no longer so easy to impress my heart.

That's kind of the case tonight.Reading these old works under the lamp, some make me blush, some make me smile, some make me proud, but most of them make me feel emotional.How many feelings are worth cherishing, how many experiences are worth experiencing in detail, they are all so carelessly ruined and wasted by me.But I never regret it.This may be the reason why I am still walking this road and writing this short article under the lamp at six in the morning. The sky outside the window is already pale, and there are already small sparrows singing on the peach tree. The hardworking young people should have woken up, but I am still walking forward while reading my old works.