One can only do one thing in one’s life.

One day I chatted with several guests and talked about many writers who had abandoned their pens to make money. They said, what about you? What do you think?

I answered this sentence.

Yes, everyone has his own ambition, one can only do one thing in his life. The writer who abandoned the pen may be enviable, but I think it is worth pity, because he has already admitted that he has no power to finish literature in his life.

A person who has given up his original intention has the freedom to choose in the vast world, in the daily changes and movements, but his heart may be messy. Of course, there are still some people who did not have their original intention when they first came to the world, but only wanted to join the fun. Now that the excitement is over, it is time to gather new excitement elsewhere. Society will never be in one place.

This kind of person has never intended to do anything well in his life, but only wants to profit from all the things that can excite him, and doesn’t want to give anything at all.

All this happened after literature lost its sensational effect. Lost sensation, it is no longer the focus of social excitement, therefore, people who are keen to talk about ” one hundred years of loneliness” can’t stand even ten years of loneliness, the general trend is gone, it’s really ” nowhere to say sad”.

However, the rest is not eliminated. It is just like the situation experienced by the leaders Zhu and Chen after the Nanchang Uprising. The true writers who are tough and keep their goals and original intention unchanged, like the calm Xuefeng, have a clear view of everything in the world. They do not feel sad or lonely when watching the snow water leave in spring. On the contrary, they feel relaxed and happy.

Snow water has its own place to go. Xuefeng people will not be ” poor snow” because of this.

There is a Xuefeng named Bogda which is located not far from me. I like to stare at it from a distance. It is blue, a hard and textured blue. This unique blue distinguishes it from the blue of the sky and enables my naked eye to see its lofty outline in the sky. In the blazing and intense sunlight, it transpires its strength and light, silently speechless, breathing slowly, like a great god who knows everything.

If you gaze at it in peace for a long time. Perhaps you will hear its voice and understand its words! ” The hustle and bustle has gone, and the time has come to advocate creation.”

This voice reverberated in my heart for a long time, deeply filled, has been seeping into the blood and bone marrow. I am moved and grateful.

I said to myself, ” my god, you have seen through me.”

Over the years, all the things I have done are actually preparing for one thing, so all those things are not counted as things.

Over the years, I have been marching from east to west and fighting wars, as if with some success, but in fact I have never touched the edge of that matter.

Over the years, I have lived in a noisy downtown, with all kinds of hawking noises, booing and bargaining deafening. The voice of sincerity is weak, it has not left the lips before being drowned out by the terrible noise.

I have also been disturbed and questioned. At this time I came to a place with an empty view and stared at the Bogda god alone. It seems to be able to heal my soul, because I trust it. Gradually, I calmed down and reflected on myself under its stern and lofty eyes. The commotion of material desires would subside again.

I think, Bogda, how many things have you done in your life? You seem to have done nothing, not even moved a step. What you have done in your life is nothing but standing erect and will never collapse.

You look down at people, coldly watching people fighting, old age and illness; The interests and wisdom of one generation are buried in the soil with their bodies. The next generation will start the same old story again. They were busy and worried all their lives. They seemed to have something they could never finish. When they died, when they had a thorough rest, they thought about it and did nothing. ? – the flute rang, time is up.

Therefore, people always think, ” If only I could do it again …” What would you do if I could do it again: ” Do literature!” I said, ” If I had this talent.”

What if heaven does not endow me with literary talent? ” Then I have to … be a Chinese citizen with a clear conscience.”