Stag Party
My Diary
DATE: 2009/11/27(金)   CATEGORY: Room For Qian Qian
Let Me Go Home
The sun sets with its last glow penetrating through the clouds, and under the setting sun is the path that extends thousands of miles, losing itself in the depth of the forest. Rambling through the grassy bypath and with in hand a flower overflowing with odor, I let myself immerse in this nature of wonder, quietness and serenity. Lost wildly in though and inebriated with such heavenly tranquility, I enjoy this moment of no disturbance, distraction, nor discouragement. Life has been more than a cranky road of survival, marked by heckuva struggle, constant frustration and no less toil, tears and sweats. Years wrinkles the skin, yet lacking enthusiasm wrinkles the heart. The combined effect of mounting pressure, increasing responsibility, incessant difficulties and constant setback gradually takes away my confidence, strangling the last breath of my hope and dampening an already-devastated heart. Never a moment has I been exposed to such intensity of workloads, responsibilities and commitments. With the progressive ooze of the last glimmer of confidence, performance level falls to a record low level.

A whiff of breeze blows up, caressing my skin and the lake, rippled. The spring leaves are swirling up and down, in measure, and finally fell on the lake, ripples expanding in circles and then fading away. The fallen leaves, on the spot, disturb the quiet and calm lake, so they do me. Breeze keep wafting through and the creek, floating softly, my memories going back to childhood, to the days I still fondly recall in my dreams. Oh! How happy I was then! There was no sorrow, nor pain. Walking through the green fields in the prime time of spring, sunshine in my eye, gentle breeze rustling through the trees, stray birds singing and dancing on branches, sprouting buds ready to open and flowers in complete blossom- this picture of childhood life are always in my dreams, repeatedly evoking the eternal joy of life. The sight that we used to frolic around the lake constantly reoccurs to my mind, soothing a heart fraught with scar life left and meanwhile with a burning longing for escape. I have been in it, for too long, enmeshed in what is called a net. For survival
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