I like the early morning in summer, the wind is crisp, the sky is blue and the clouds are pure white and soft. I wake up in the birdsong, seize the mane of time in the passage of time, and take it to the distant place I want to reach, maybe today, maybe a bright future.

Sweating on the yoga mat, complaining that Sister Li is a cruel woman, but thanking her for her careful teaching, as she said, "Yoga training, if divorced from life, will lose its meaning."

I like the appearance of going to work after class, seeing the grass swaying, acacia flowers like velvet feather fans, and there is a gentle and charming amorous feelings in the charming and lovely; The path twists and turns, and occasionally you will encounter the lazy and sticky cries of stray cats, and your heart will become softer and softer.

Buy breakfast, ride a bike, chase each other with the clouds, and talk to the breeze. The enthusiasm of the sun pushes summer all over the body, spicy but not annoying. I only feel that vigorous growth has broadened everything, even the hair blown up by cats has been smoothed away, leaving only some positive things for the years, such as lush vegetation and full rivers.

Sitting at my desk, I put the white tea that Sister Jin gave me a few days ago into boiling water, waiting for the water and tea to get familiar, waiting for the tea to boil, waiting for the water color to breed tea soup, waiting for the tea fragrance to infiltrate, waiting for the pleasant fragrance to linger. I prefer to go back to Gansu than the taste of the entrance. This is something that lasts forever and will not decline. For example, Li Baixiu spoke about half of the prosperous times in Tang Dynasty, while Li Shangyin recalled the prosperous times in late Tang Dynasty, and the memories were constantly carved, exquisite and charming. Looking back when he woke up, the down-to-earth years were as real as we were in the cold reality, and Li Bai was destined to be the bright moon in the sky, which he could aspire to but could not become.

When everything began to be busy, my mind retreated to the corner. It is waiting for an opportunity, but it is not numb to the secular. Living in the established rules, the money exchanged for mechanized labor is cold and sour.

I never wanted to live in someone else's hands as a pawn. If I don't have the talent to write poetry, I will wander around the world, starve to death in the sky and dedicate my soul to my soul. This reminds me of the seven sages of the bamboo forest, the whistler, the piano player, the fool pretending to be crazy, and the official ... each of them has different temperament and feelings, but they all know how to complete life in their own way and live high.

Music, dogs and horses will be tired, so will drunkards. What life has been looking for is the purest original heart after stripping chaos, with its own self-absence, self-emptiness, self-color, no life, no death, no impurities, no increase or decrease.

Summer is getting stronger and stronger. I like to put some gardenias on the table, and I like the refreshing smell of outdated wind.

Floating life is a kind of poetry, which is the essence of life. It has nothing to do with pushing a cup for a change, nothing to do with splashing ink and freehand brushwork, only to do with heart and spirit.

It's better every day, and it's sunny every day, so it's good to grow.