Train (piano stage art)

I don’t remember when I left the train tickets on purpose, so I put them in my wallet one by one until there were too many tickets. During this period, some of them were confiscated ruthlessly during outbound ticket checking. One by one, new or old, full of the smell of RMB. Some of them were full of footprints because they slipped on the ground accidentally, and they were put for too long, which made them quite vicissitudes and nostalgia. Some failed to avoid the spot check of the flight attendants in the carriage, and were full of messy ballpoint pen hooks and forks. Looking at it, it was like a painting just copied, which was poured some ink abruptly. It was horrible. The edge of some tickets left the cut-off gap. I once thought it implied something. Of course, it first proved that I am a legal passenger who took a car with a paid ticket, but at the same time, I also lost the right to choose to turn back, so I had to go forward with the car. My friends, love, stories, scenery and time who stayed in the past cities will soon be lost in my life. Some will disappear forever, and some will exist more deeply. Think of Mr. Lu Xun’s words. The past life has died. I am very happy with this death, because I know that it once survived. Yes, I know they have survived. Some ticket centers impressively printed a red character, sitting in the small red circle steadily. I think after many years, this may also be a thing to be proud. I can take it and say to my children, look, my mother went there when she was a student. The implication is that only when you are young and frivolous, cherish and work hard, can you go to a farther place and a wider sky. Just as my good friend told me: people should not limit their eyes to explore the world because they grow up in a small city. This is probably what I said. A mother told her sensible daughter that her daughter was my good friend and told me again and again. It is nothing more than those cities that come and go. Some familiar people can even write down the number of trains. When the train arrived, I stayed for a short time, sometimes for a long time or for a long time. Gradually, I felt that I didn’t belong to any city any more, even the hometown where I was raised. I ran away with my hometown, but returned to my hometown with foreign land and prejudice. As time went by, she changed, so did I. Living in a new city does not mean understanding this city. I just lived here, like an animal migrating with seasons. Maybe I will come back here when spring is warm and flowers bloom, but at that time everything was strange. But who will know the things after many years. I think that is the case for most people. Everything in the world is just like this, like love, from novelty to plain, and then to strangeness. We all say that life is a journey, a little long and a little short. The carrier of this trip is the train. Most of the time, a narrow carriage is loaded with far more wishes and waiting. Catch a temporary meeting in different places. Go to a youth feast of love. Visit an old friend I haven’t seen for a long time. Or start a new study and work after a vacation of rest and wasteland. Or escape from tired people and things, hoping to find the courage to start again in short walks and strange places. They are like floating dust exposed in the warm afternoon sun, wandering in the noisy and crowded carriage. Meet each other, greet each other, or stay alone, silent, or sleepy. Most of the time, we don’t know where each other will go, but only know that it will be a certain stop on this fixed route. In the plain and lengthy journey, people who had never met each other unexpectedly met each other and talked happily, killing the lonely and boring time. Sometimes people will speculate on a person’s occupation and self-restraint according to his or her clothes and appearance, so as to decide whether they are congenial to each other and have a pleasant conversation. Or too lazy to be like me, most of the time from beginning to end, I only read books, stunned and slept. After all, taking a bus is already a tiring thing. Nobody cares about the true or false in the conversation, just like the street talk after dinner in daily life, which is a luxury in the long life, just to decorate other people’s life. In other words, what can happen if you care about it, but give some sympathy, controversy or praise to gain some others’ ways of doing things. No matter how many sincere or glorious elements of humanity are contained in it, only oneself knows clearly. I remembered Bian Zhilin’s poems. You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery. People watching the scenery are watching you upstairs. Mingyue decorated your window, and you decorated others’ dreams. There are also some times when we can put down all our guard and concerns and exchange each other’s worries heartily. It can be a sad relationship in the past. The impression of a short-lived city remains in my mind. A prejudice that knows little about constellations. A popular movie recently. A very popular social event nowadays. Everything is just because we don’t know each other, and we won’t know each other. People who meet by chance can often ask some in-depth questions and get real answers. Because they are just passers-by in each other’s lives. At the moment they leave the station, they are just strangers in the bustling crowd and will no longer remember each other. I didn’t know each other’s names, and it was impossible to see each other again. Just like an assassin who was about to die, he could only seize the last chance to put all his eggs in one basket, be brave and fearless, wield his sword in the sky, and gorgeously interpret it as the meaning of a monarch as a minister. After that, let the history tell it. Anyway, there is no longer his history. You once told me that life is a train, and everyone gets off at every stop. On the train that belongs to you, we greet each other, talk, sing, stay silent, walk and spend some time together. I hope that you and I just meet by chance. But they all had a sincere heart. Just like passengers and ticket sellers. I remember you, and you won’t remember me any more. Just like tickets and gaps. I remember you, and you won’t remember me any more. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. 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