“i've lost my mind, climbing the tarzan gate 115, and i've lost zero dollars in the road that han wu-di walked next door.”
Last saturday, i took the baby to ta'an's classmate's wedding, and i asked the parking lady, "what way is tarzan? She pointed her hand at east road: "the emperor's old man crawled without money, the water was still shallow, and the children could play with stones." as soon as i stepped on the door, 15 minutes to the foot of the mountain, i got out of the car, with the stone in the middle of two thousand-year-old cylindrical trees, the word "hands" in my head, the wind blowing, the sound of the pins and the sands, like an old show opener。
I threw my baby into a 30-centimetre-deep stream, crouched on the side and brushed my cell phone to the "live lake" presentation: 8000 square feet at the bottom of the fourth ice-crazed lake. I looked up, and the water was like a mirror, and there was a wild almond on the back of the mountain, and it was white. He said that he came up at 4 a. M. And that there was fog on the lake, as if someone had pulled the curtain from han dynasty. I've got a brain. The goose bumps rise。
And then up, the gold rock is in the middle of the road, three metres high, and it's like a toad in the red bag. I reached out, cold, full of human oil — half a million people a year, on average, and it was coming out. The baby says, "daddy, will it just jump away?" i said, "no, it has to hold the mountain for the next 2,000 years."
Half an hour to qingyang hall, wood smelled with pine fragrance, tweezed without nails, biting. I've got my cell phone flashlight painted on the beam, red powdered to powder, green to green, like an old phone filter. The staff said that the house was open in spring, so that the city could hear the first bird and not emo for a year. I laughed at the scene: the psychiatrist was suddenly unemployed。
Most of all, the five valleys of fountainstone, the old grinding plate is a smiley face, and the middle pit is full of coins. I spent half a day, not a piece more than a dollar — you're even going to inflation. The little girl next to her buried 50 cents in the barley crack: "i hope mom doesn't work late." her mother was brushing her body and her head was not raised, and suddenly my nose was sore that it was worse than the wind。
When she came down the hill, she said that a young man came up with a han uniform, went live on the road, and cried like a dog in front of han, and the curtain was all "genetic." i looked back at that stone road, and it was the same step of time, 2,000 years ago, that liu had taken with him a man of martial arts. Now it's our turn to beat the workers for no overtime on weekends, no extra classes for children and no increase in house prices. Longevity is too expensive, we just want to take a breath。
I put the baby on my shoulder, and he had the pine nuts in his hand, and said to go home and plant them in the yard, and wait for tarzan to grow up. I went back to him and said, "okay, but first we have to give our balcony a piece of dirt."
The moment the car went out, i looked at the rear-view mirror, and the cylindrical trees and the rocks were getting smaller, like history. The ticket is zero, but the page in my heart has just been torn -- the most expensive thing that was free, and it forces you to face what you're trying to escape。
Do you understand? We'll just take a weekend to navigate east road, and we'll get $2. 50 a half an hour to get 2,000. When you're done, it tastes good to go back to work -- after all, you're on the same road as the emperor, he's sealed, you're sealed, you're sealed。
