Kinkakuji Temple

My mother and benefactors watched as I finally said goodbye to my dead father's body. However, my stubborn heart does not accept the analogy of the world of the living implied by this sentence. I did not bid farewell to the body, but only looked at the remains of my father. The remains can only be seen by people. I was just watching. To look is to act without any consciousness; to look is to prove the right of the living, or it may be an expression of cruelty. For me, this is a new experience. A teenager who neither sang loudly nor shouted and ran around learned to confirm his life. I was a very self-abased person, but at this time, I was able to ask the benefactors with a clear face without tears without shame. The temple is located on a cliff on the seashore. The summer clouds rolling over the sea of Japan are behind the guests who are paying their respects. The chanting of the funeral began, and I joined in. The main hall was dark. The canopies hanging on the pillars, the mantles hanging on the beams of the hall, as well as the incense burners and vases, all looked brilliant in the flickering light. From time to time, the sea breeze swept in and raised the hem of my monk's robe. I constantly feel the intense light and summer clouds pouring into the corners of my eyes. The strong outdoor light was constantly shining on the side of my face. That glorious insult.. The funeral procession walked another one or two hundred meters to the crematorium, when it suddenly rained. Fortunately, when we came to the door of a kind benefactor, the Miraculous Pivot could also take shelter from the rain. The rain had not yet stopped,Magnetic Drain Plug, and the funeral procession had to move forward, so they had to prepare rain gear for everyone, cover the Lingshu with oil paper, and transport it to the crematorium. The crematorium is on a small stone beach at the end of a prominent promontory in the southeast of the village. So the ash from the burning will not blow towards the village. Probably for this reason, it has been used as a crematorium since ancient times. The waves of the seashore are surging. When the waves churned and splashed, the raindrops kept plunging into the restless sea. The rain without light just calmly pierces the extraordinary sea. But the sea breeze suddenly blew the rain on the desolate rock wall. The white rock wall was blackened and seemed to be sprayed with a layer of ink. Get out of the tunnel and arrive at the crematorium. The workers are preparing for the cremation. We took shelter from the rain in the tunnel. Didn't see any sea view. Just waves,Steel investment casting, wet black rocks and rain. The oiled Miraculous Pivot showed its bright wood color and was beaten by the rain. The fire is lit. This ration of oil was specially prepared for the death of the abbot, and it was enough, so the flame instead made a whiplash sound against the rain, and it became louder and louder. In the thick smoke, the flame of the day showed a transparent posture, clearly visible. Smoke billowed and gradually blew to the other side of the cliff, and in an instant, only the flames rose in a beautiful shape in the rain. Suddenly, there was a terrible noise of things exploding. The hinge cover jumped up. I looked at my mother beside me. Mother stood there, holding the rosary in her hands. Her face was stiff, and her body seemed to be frozen and shrunk, non standard fasteners ,Investment casting parts, even in the palm of her hand. According to my father's last words, I went to Kyoto to be a disciple of Kinkakuji Temple. At that time, I followed the abbot to shave my hair and become a monk. Tuition fees were provided by the abbot in exchange for me cleaning and taking care of the abbot, like a lay student servant. Soon after I entered the temple, I found that the strict warden had been conscripted into the army, leaving only the old and the young in the temple. After I came here, I was relieved of everything. The people here are all my kind, and they won't treat me differently like my secular middle school classmates because I'm the son of a monk. The only difference is that I stutter and am uglier than everyone else. After I dropped out of Dongmaizuru Middle School, I listened to Monk Tanayama's persuasion and transferred to Linji College Middle School. The autumn semester will begin in less than a month. After the transfer, I have to go to school every day. But I know that as soon as the school starts, the students will be immediately assigned to a factory to participate in voluntary labor. Now, in the new environment in front of me, there are only a few weeks of summer vacation left. This is my summer vacation during mourning. It was 1944, at the end of the war, an incredibly quiet summer.. The disciples of the temple live a life of strict discipline. For me, this seems to be the last. An absolute vacation. I listened carefully to the sound of cicadas. The Golden Pavilion, which has been away for several months, is silent in the late summer sunshine. I've just been tonsured, and my head is bruised. There was a sensation of air pressing against my head. It was a strange, dangerous feeling, as if the thoughts of one's own mind were in contact with external objects through a thin, sensitive, easily damaged skin. Looking up at the Golden Pavilion with such a mind, the Golden Pavilion penetrates deeply not only from my eyes, but also from my mind. This kind of brain is hot in the drought and cool in the evening wind. The Golden Pavilion! I finally came to live with you. Sometimes I stop holding the broom and say to myself, "It doesn't have to be now!"! I wish you would show me kindness one day and reveal your secrets to me. Your beauty may be seen clearly in a while, but not yet. I hope that the Golden Pavilion in reality will show more clear beauty than the Golden Pavilion in my imagination. And if you are the incomparable beauty in the world, tell me why you are so beautiful and why you must be beautiful. In the summer of that year, the Golden Pavilion was more vivid and brilliant with the dark state of the sad news of defeat coming from time to time as bait. In June, American forces landed on the island of Saipan, and allied coalition forces landed on the outskirts of Normandy. The number of visitors has also decreased significantly, and the Golden Pavilion seems to enjoy this loneliness and silence. It is natural that the beauty of the Golden Pavilion is enriched by war and unrest, numerous dead bodies and a large amount of blood. Because the Golden Pavilion was originally a building built by restlessness, a building built by a general as the center and the owners of many dark hearts. The art historian sees there only the compromise of the style, the messy design of its three layers,die casting parts, no doubt exploring a pattern that crystallizes uneasiness and naturally forms such a shape. If a stable model is used, then the Golden Pavilion can not bear that kind of uneasiness and has already collapsed, which is beyond doubt. autoparts-dx.com