白板报 Whiteboard

January 21st I am walking along the Tuhai River, a familiar companion in my hometown. The weather is far from pleasant—mist hangs in the air, and the light at noon is dim, filtered weakly through a gray haze. The air quality leaves much to be desired. Still, I find solace in my steps. Walking 10,000 steps a day is not just a habit but an anchor in my life, an essential task that restores me, both body and mind. Walking energizes me, sparks ideas, and makes me feel alive. Yet, despite the rhythm of my footsteps, my writing falters. I’m caught in the grip of writer’s block, unable to think clearly or write with vigor. The act of confronting the page feels unbearable. Each morning, I wake with a heavy reluctance to write, a quiet dread that casts a shadow over the day. I don’t want to talk; I don’t even want to connect with my family. This mood—so heavy, so stubborn—seems inexplicable. Perhaps it’s a side effect of the medication I take, or maybe it’s simply the ebb of my spirit. I am moody in the mornings, unmotivated and dry, as if every wellspring of imagination has been sealed shut. I long to start fresh, to rediscover the diligence and inspiration that once came so naturally. There is so much to write, so much to explore and share, yet I feel parched, adrift in a desert of empty thoughts. If only I could find the source again, the spark of creativity, the joy of weaving words. Even in this state, I remind myself of my calling. Writing is my work, my career, my fate. It is what I must do, even when I resist it, even when it feels impossible. To write is to live, and though my thoughts now seem scattered and frail, I must shape them into something that can stand. For the first time, I am speaking these thoughts aloud in English, leaning on AI to help me sort through the tangle in my mind. I want my words to be clear, readable, and true. This is my profession, and though it is often lonely, it is mine. Walking helps me carry the weight, step by step. Writing, though difficult, is how I find my way back.