It's just another manic Monday. Quarrels with a bitchy cow, difficulties in getting out of bed, purposely shunning of the boss, etc....... all are routines. And I'm reading "To Live" by a Chinese author 余華 written in 1994. Quite a satire it is to make me laught out loud with tears of sympathy. I have to spend some more paragraph on it later on afterI finished it. Who says the higher above the ground, the wider the horizon is? Every one can see him on top, but he can see nobody. The nearer the heaven is, the farther the ground becomes. In face of the sun, shadows fall behind. Once you look above, reluctant is he to look down. He walking up, with a whirl of a wind comes a thunder of the applause from people on the ground; there are wonders in their marvels: from this high, what if falling down shattered around?
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