Cumulonimbus clouds gather. All it takes is a flash of lightning to make the rain fall. Experience is like a cumulonimbus cloud. When the time is right, the thoughts will become rain, and the articles will follow.
A smattering of people described Alexander Pushkin as a man who, for the sake of inspiration, conceived a good essay and spent his days in a room dreaming and recalling, like a delirious madman.
In the film, Alexander Pushkin is grossly vulgar: Alexander Pushkin sits and dreamily looks up at the sky, then spasmodically grabs his pen and starts to write, pausing again, looking up at the sky, biting the quill, and then writing again in a hurry.
The world of the thinker is much more complex than the external forms of expression that the average person sees.
Looking back, from the first time I started writing, to having more ideas, I‘ve gone through a lot of detours, and the process of finding inspiration, from being in the library, to being aware of what’s going on around you, isn‘t a straight line.
History is the mark of slow wheels. Literature records cumulonimbus clouds before lightning. The ignition of a car as it moves and the lightning that cuts through the sky should not pass away without bearing any fruit.
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