the other side

the other side

In my dreams, I repeatedly broke into this unknown blue land.

That is a place I have never been to. Light and dark coexist, and the cold moon is intertwined with the breeze. When looking up, how to look at it, and not through the towering tree wall. I finally couldn't recognize whether it was day or night, and I didn't have a compass. In the small world where I am alone, the tree shadows, only a trace of cold between the leaves makes me stunned, but in the next second I am involved in the endless silence.

An unknown fear has caught me from the head. I dare not look around, I feel that there is a faint darkness coming behind. It is not a tree shadow, there is no sun here. I don't dare to move, my hands and feet try to squat, I want to bury myself the deepest. It slowly touched my clothes and forced me to turn around. So I fell on the turf, but it was not the darkness I imagined. It's blue light, not a bunch, not a bunch. I can't see the outline of it, it burns my eyes, and makes me feel weak suffocation. I don't know if it is the South, but my body is really following the light. I know that at the end of the light, there must be something I am craving.

The light went very slowly, so I walked slowly, my feet on the wet turf, and the friction between the water and the grass was clear in silence. At this time, I had a surprise that I had never had before.

I don't know how long it took, the whole part became clear, and the blue light disappeared a little. I ran and wanted to catch it, only to find that there was nothing behind the blue light. It’s too late to react, my feet are empty, and the bottom, blue, strong, is water. But I don't have wings. The blue light is parallel to me, I am down, but it is forward. I can see the road ahead of it, on the other side of the water, the shore. On the shore, the flowers bloom just right.

the other side. I shouted weakly, and that blue became the final freeze in my eyes.

The morning light quietly climbed up to my window, lazy and squatting in one place. I am sure that I am awake, but my heart is sinking. I am still thinking about that dream. Should it be called a nightmare? I don't think it is completely. In fact, after the dream of waking up, two points of peace, eight points is lost. This dream is too shallow.

So one afternoon, I was painting the same thing. I can't say what it is like because I don't know what it is. The page of the drawing paper was turned over, and my heart sank a little.

"What is this?" At that time, the little cousin did not know when she had picked up my paintings. She was quite masterful and played with her, and asked me innocently.

"I don't know. What do you say like it?" The mood was a little better. I deliberately teased him and tried to pinch his nose.

However, he ran away, holding a picture and drilling behind me, squatting on the bookshelf.

I was afraid that he would fall, and he would reach out and hold him, waiting for him to take a big Chinese dictionary.

"What are you doing?" I don't think it's funny. A child who just went to kindergarten also knows the dictionary.

He did not answer, and his expression turned his pages very seriously. I sit back and continue to groan.

It’s not a good time, he ran up and down, put the picture open, and opened the page with his own hand as a bookmark in the dictionary. The excitement is not overwhelming. "Sister, sister, is this!"

I followed his chubby jade and stopped at his fingertips. It was a paw of the big cock, but I didn't know why it was broken. It was like a moment when the cock raised his paw. The name of the paw is called Taiwan.

What I painted is this claw. The pre-life, and finally, the blue light is also it.

Into the night.

Still the dream, the tree shadows, the cold is still. I fumbled for the blue light, moving forward as the aperture spreads. Then somehow, I came to this mist, and I was on top of my head. In the foggy moonlight, a clear flute is swaying, like a human language.

Still going forward?

Ok. Where are you going?

the other side.

So I kept going forward, followed the light, toward the other side. At this time, if I walk again in the future, I will surely find that the tree there has no longer the annual ring.

After leaving, the shackles are a tree without an annual ring and never grow old.

--postscript

Third day: Du Bingqian