In order to get an errand, I ran around for a day, but there was still no hope. Since I quit my job as a security guard, I took a few days off, and then I thought about finding another job. Men can't be idle, they have to have something to do.
It is really not easy for people to find a livelihood after middle age. I used to be a security guard, so I wasn't too tired, but I had to stand at the gate of the community at night, and I couldn't sleep all night. This made me feel that my body couldn't bear it, and after a few days, I felt more and more that my body couldn't bear it, so I quit my job.
Now that I think about it, it's really a bit reckless. After quitting my job as a security guard, I went around looking for a new job, but when they heard that it was an elderly man in his fifties, he wouldn't even let me in.
If I can't find a job, I have no income, and I still have a mortgage of hundreds of thousands. I don't know how to pay off the mortgage when my family's savings run out.
Sitting in the small courtyard at night, looking at the flowers in the courtyard, smelling the fragrance of the flowers, the bright moon on the head is cold, the wind blows, and the summer evening gives birth to a little coolness.
The daughter-in-law was reading her book upstairs, and the child was still outside, not coming home. The melodious sound of unknown insects in the flowers, which lasted for a long time, made this small courtyard seem like a paradise, and made me look at my heart.
Lao Li passed by my small courtyard and saw me sitting alone in the courtyard, so he asked me to go out and drink with him. Lao Li is my friend, but I don't want to accompany him tonight, I just want to sit in the courtyard, watch the bright moon in the sky, and taste the fragrance of flowers in the courtyard.
Lao Li saw that I was not going, so he threw a bag of soft flowers in through the female wall. He really knew me too well. Sitting alone in the courtyard, with smoke and wine, what is there not to be satisfied?
I like to sit in the small courtyard at night, with a glass of turbid wine on the stone table, tasting it slowly and reminiscing about the past.
I don't know how I got to the way I am. People are middle-aged, they have achieved nothing, they have a mortgage, and they can't get a moment of leisure.
The past is like water, and the past is back to the present.
A pot of wine among the flowers, the shadow becomes three people. The small courtyard is full of flowers. This is my wife's favorite. She is a reader, and with a book in hand, she can sit alone on the balcony on the second floor and read her books without going downstairs for a day.
She likes flowers, she is a southern woman, delicate and lovely.
The story of my acquaintance with her is my confidence to survive. She is the motivation from heaven to keep me alive as a person who has achieved nothing. The various flowers in this courtyard were planted for her. I can give her my life as long as she likes.
It's just that I can't give her a future. My poverty and poverty make her only stay at home, her world should be the vast fields outside, the beautiful mountains and rivers in the south of the Yangtze River, and the wisp of ink fragrance in the spring breeze of the small building under the bright moon.
I'm a little selfish. I think if possible, I'd better get a divorce. I can't give her a future, and I know that what awaits me is poverty. I don't want her to be a woman as bright as a flower, and when the sun sets with me, there will be no future for her.
I'm just a person who has read too many idle books and has nothing to do. Such a woman like autumn water and moon, I should let go and let her go back to Jiangnan, to her home with a garden.
I, an idler who has nothing to pursue, just need a glass of turbid wine, dance to a bright moon, and sleep among the flowers when I am drunk.
There is wine today, drunk today, and sorrow tomorrow comes. I don't want to think about the things that worry me. To me, the things of the world are just things in front of me, passing by with the wind, never hanging in my heart. I can get drunk and stay awake when I have food and drink, but no matter what, I didn't expect that people are middle-aged, and they are still holding on to hundreds of thousands of mortgages, which makes me unable to breathe.
It was getting late, and the moon was hanging in the west. I think of the poet who lived in seclusion. He was the only friend I had in my life. With him, I can let go of the troubles of the world, and the two brothers "sing and go wild when they are drunk, and they don't think about idle things in front of the door."
He's poorer than I am, but he's more fond of drinking than I am. I always thought that the poems he wrote were all about wine. He is fatter than Li Bai, and he has a bit of the shadow of Dongpo in his later years. The amount of alcohol he can compare with Li Bai, and the amount of alcohol in Dongpo is shallow, which is not the same as that of a poet.
The poet is a little as crazy as Li Bai. When he had finished drinking, he would get up from the cramped maza of the food stalls, hold his big belly, and raise his head and sing the poems he had written.
Sometimes when I make some money, I will ask him to go to the restaurant, and if the income is more, I will ask for a private room. Neither he nor I like single rooms, we are both people who like to be lively.
In the restaurant, he can still become a character if he drinks well. He would tell me about Li Bai's involvement, and he said that Li Bai was smarter and more cunning than either of us. He and I both dislike Taibai a little bit, and prefer the simple Dongpo.
When the wine is hearty, it is the time for him to indulge. The restaurant was full of his voice. From the beginning of the third generation, I began to tell the history, and it was the late Ming Dynasty.
Often the whole room is amazed by his erudition, and occasionally it causes trouble. Several times to provoke right and wrong. It's just that "there are poems, wine, and singing, and I can't help myself every year in spring", I have been fined several times, and the detention is not enough, after all, he and I are both scholars, and we know what can and cannot be done.
He just got poorer and poorer until his wife filed for divorce. This was the straw that made him want to go into hiding. He told me that he wanted to go back to his hometown, guard one or two acres of thin fields, and live with his parents.
How can I persuade them? Stay in the city, he has no job, no income, what does he do for a living? His former wife was his childhood plum, but unfortunately after all, under the tempering of the years, he chose reality.
It's no wonder she's not.
I have a heart to help, but compared to a poet, he still has a belly of poetry and books, and I only have a mortgage with melon seeds. All I could do was treat him to a good drink before he went home. "Persuade the gentleman to have a glass of wine, and there is no one in Yangguan in the west."
Two scholars over half a hundred years old sat in a food stall and drank inferior high-quality liquor. They looked at each other and felt desolate. Haoyue was at the head, the autumn wind was over, halfway through his life, his confidants were sitting opposite him, and he was speechless and choked. "Whose family is Bian Zhouzi tonight? Where is the Acacia Moon Tower". This is a lonely place, don't forget it.
Sitting alone in the courtyard tonight, I suddenly remembered that back then, when I was in high spirits with the poet, "Xinfeng wine fight ten thousand, Xianyang Ranger for many years". I always thought that the happy time of life was short, when I was still studying with the poet. For the two of us, other classmates buried themselves in their desks, but the poet and I escaped from the dilapidated campus and ran to the Daqing River, talking about poetry and wine, and talking about Xuan.
Later, he and I were admitted to university. They all thought that they were better than Su Qin, and they all believed that they would be arrogant in this life.
It's just that right now, he went back to the village to hide in the world and didn't ask about the world anymore. I guard the flowers in a courtyard, accompanied only by the bright moon in the sky.
I'd like to send him a message and ask him if he can have a drink, "Can you have a drink?" ”
Can the two low houses in his hometown accommodate his rebellious heart?
"Half of the fireworks into the world, half of the poetry Xu Qinghuan", picked up the wine on the stone table, towards the direction of my hometown, at my poet friend, although Wanzhong Guanshan is far away, if the poetry is still there, I know that this heart lives up to the year.
The evening breeze knows what I want, and I toast the rest of my life with a glass of wine.