the charm of literature lies in its ability to encode messages. perhaps, it's a way for poets to vent their muses, yet allow secrets to be carried to the grave. and, perhaps, students of literature are just curious onlookers who seek to rise the mysteries from the graves of people past, to expose their love, hate, exploits, schemes, scandals. such is the beauty of literature.
累了，是为了什么？如果是为了自己，或许就没有埋怨的理由。但如果是为了大局，结果却让充数者沾了光，自己因此暗淡下来，之前的疲惫也只能苦笑带过。毕竟，社会只会看到结果，看不到过程。最糟糕的是，如果因为一把竽而捣乱了整首曲目，辛勤排练的乐者，就该欲哭无泪吗？ 累了，可是距离清闲的路，还远着呢。
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