A Salted Fish's Lament

 　　Before I knew it, night had fallen again. It seemed like I hadn't done anything, and the day was almost over. The weather was quite nice today. After the morning mist dissipated, the sun gradually peeked out, so Mr. Chen and I couldn't resist taking our washed clothes downstairs to let the sunlight warm them after they'd been dried in the washing machine. The afternoon sun in the neighborhood became even brighter, so around 5 pm I couldn't resist going into the bathroom and washing my hair and body with the shower.

　　As an ordinary citizen, an utterly ordinary couch potato and foodie, my greatest hobbies are eating and sleeping. In these years of battling illness, lying down has become a habit. Of course, occasionally I can't resist writing or playing on my phone. After all, writing is one of my hobbies, and my phone is a "friend" I consider indispensable. For me, listening to music while writing is a way to enjoy life in reality. Listening to music can lift my spirits, and writing can help me forget my troubles.

　　Thinking about my two phones, one I use for writing articles, and the other for listening to my favorite songs. Lying in bed, pouring out my heart to words seems like a kind of happiness!

　　I used to be obsessed with making money. Although I suffer from a chronic illness, I still wanted to travel and see the world. After all, the world is vast, and different regions have their own unique scenery. The little trees in my neighborhood, the small bridge, stream, and pavilion in my hometown supermarket, the ancient streets of the city, and various amusement parks—I haven't been to many places, and I can't even name some of the world's famous tourist attractions. Can a person with a chronic illness turn their life around? I've always been curious about the answer to this question. The reason I wrote this article, mentioning the laid-back life of a "salted fish," might be related to two romance novels I recently read on my phone about male protagonists falling in love with "salted fish" female protagonists. In the novels, the "salted fish" female protagonist's life is as bland as water. Besides eating, sleeping, and playing, she seems to have no other ideals. Every day is about living for the moment, thinking about the future later.

　　To turn one's life around requires effort, perseverance, and willpower. I think this is the thought of most people. Reality is different from fiction; in dreams, everyone can eat and sleep however they want, but in real life, most people just want to eat, drink, and sleep, unless someone is there to support them. The reason you enjoy life and have no worries is because someone is there to carry the burden for you.

　　I don't know how many words I've written, but I still want to write, to express myself through words, so I'm typing on my phone. Tonight, I wrote an article in a notebook I bought before, intending to draft it and then copy it over. However, I feel the writing in the notebook "diary" needs improvement, and the article needs revision. Therefore, I'm rewriting it on my phone.

　　How does one turn one's life around? Is life good for a salted fish? What is the world like for a salted fish? I can't answer these questions, and I don't know if this article qualifies as an "argumentative essay." I can only define my writing as a "diary." As for the title, I don't know what to call it yet. I don't know if "On Salted Fish" is appropriate.

　　I heard it snowed up north, but snow seems to be rare in the south. In my hometown, winter doesn't feel like winter; it feels more like autumn. The recent high temperature has reached 25 degrees Celsius, and the temperature for the past few days has generally been between 10 and 20 degrees Celsius. The afternoon sun is quite glaring, and the air feels warm.

　　After finishing my chores in the evening—dinner, medication—I can do what I want: write articles and diary entries. It makes me feel much happier. Expressing myself through writing seems much more suitable than confiding in people. Eating delicious food, getting a good night's sleep, and playing undisturbed—for a lazy bum like me, isn't that much happier? Forcing myself to fit in won't bring happiness; low-quality socializing is worse than high-quality solitude.

　　A lazy bum, perhaps I really am a lazy bum for now. Live for today, worry about tomorrow later. Last night, I listened to "Maze" by my favorite singer, Ji Yanlin, on my phone. Although I still feel somewhat lost about life and relationships, and although I still feel like I'm wandering in a maze on the path of life and love, and although I'm still uncertain about my future, I've decided to live in the present and cherish the moment, because tomorrow is always an unknown.

　　Live for today, worry about tomorrow later; live in the present, cherish the past, and appreciate the present. I believe that even a salted fish has its moments of happiness.

　　Salted fish, idle talk, carefree and at ease—may you always be able to immerse yourself in your own world and swim happily. I wonder if the title of this article, "A Salted Fish's Lament," is appropriate?

　　(The End)