I don’t like calendars, the white ones are nailed to the wall, quietly, like a fringe. All the experiences that have flowed through his eyes are precipitated until the memory is blurred. When we get up one day, what I see may be yesterday or the day before yesterday. I don’t like calendars because I can’t see a month from the calendar at a glance. I don’t like calendars because sometimes I’m very melancholy, the colors on the calendar are not bright enough, and sometimes my mood is very dark and I need some color to fill it. I like the desk calendar, I like to write down my itinerary on the desk calendar, I hope the memory will stay there, because I am afraid that one day I will forget my past. I like desk calendars, I like to look at the paintings on the desk calendar when I am bored, I like to look at them quietly, I like them to accompany me to miss the past. I think a lot of people’s thoughts are similar to mine, and when the memory in their hearts is no longer clear, they just leave people’s sighs. But he smiled. If he kept the details of his life on the desk calendar, even if his memory had turned yellow, he would still smile like a warm spring breeze.
