Life is so

I always like listening to Sha Baoliang’s songs, half of which comes from his tone and half of which comes from his youth diary. Obviously, I have gone through youth, even far away from youth, but every time this melody rings in my ears, it seems that there is something in my heart. I wandered in the diary of youth, with confused steps one by one. I used to be young, dreamed, and really wandered in this diary of youth. When people reach middle age, they take stock of their own life every day, and most of them have something to do with youth more or less. Walking in the melody, the heart will occasionally be happy and lonely, and sometimes I will think of some tiny past branches, which are lingering in my mind and tight, you will feel that the heart is a little suffocated, and when the winding is loose, you will feel that they are gradually going far away with the years. In the cycle of life, I don’t know how many different movements of life will be played, and each chapter will happen to different people, wake up in the morning, in the computer downstairs, the lover was playing this song “youth Diary”. He went downstairs in a daze and sat beside the computer to enter the country with emotion. People also began to walk deep and shallow in the lyrics, unconsciously moistening their eyes, the silly look is regarded as a good joke by the lover again. Hey hey, girl, is there no morning washing water in our family? Well, someone did not wash his face with water this morning, and he washed his face with tears! I don’t know what kind of character I am. I always enter the country with the scenery and enter the country casually. I suddenly feel that there is also a good place to release myself, the words I typed intentionally or unintentionally have a good home to settle down. After the initial excitement, I still felt empty occasionally in my heart. On that day, I cleared up the QQ friends list, deleted some people, and didn’t know what I did from it, I just wanted to delete it, but suddenly I felt that there was no *** to chat with others, and I didn’t know what to say to others. Thinking of the initial days of surfing the Internet, I didn’t like talking with others very much, which was not like myself when I was young. Recalling my youth and youth, I was always the monitor of the class from primary school to high school. This item has never been changed from beginning to end. The accuracy of my language expression is always recognized by many people. I don’t know when it is. Speaking has gradually become something I hate. I don’t like places with many people. I don’t like the so-called online chat. I always feel that I can’t talk about anything, inexplicably, I felt that many of these people were not clean, but I didn’t realize that it was likely that I was putting myself in the cover at such a time. I like listening to soothing music, and also think that I can understand some kind of artistic conception that the music wants to express. In the end, you are your lover’s words. You should read less idle books and listen less to music. I think you are almost out of tune with others. Where? Where on earth do you have what your lover said! I like the sentence that life is like a play, and I also feel that life is a big play, a play performed by different people. There are you, me and him in the play. The opening is life, and the ending is death! Hehe, thinking like this, I suddenly feel that life and death are just two plots in the play, and two things that are indifferent. I recklessly classified the serial books I wrote in the red sleeve into the Jingjing Campus series. I felt regretful only after I entered it. There were all young and ignorant children in it, and it was impossible to think out, my lover joked that I am right. This is the place you like. Just stay there and why come out! Youth is just a process of life for everyone, just like the road we have traveled, there will always be ditches and obstacles, isn’t it! We will stop to enjoy more when the scenery on the road is good. Maybe because everyone leaves some young stories or some beautiful plots in his youth, we are extremely nostalgic for our youth and the romantic season that belongs to us. I like the beautiful and beautiful life, and I have been chasing that life state for many years. Later, when I was tired, tired and even hurt my family, I suddenly woke up and knew that there was no such life in this world, for example, the word “beauty” is often used when writing, but in real life, such words will not always match the reality one by one. If you are too infatuated to find this situation and too energetic with life, then the person who is exhausted in the end must be yourself, and it will never be others! This is not to say that we shouldn’t pursue it, but sometimes what we pursue is too unreal or too ethereal. Walking on the road of middle-aged life and sleepless at night, I was thinking, am I getting old like this? Funny, my parents don’t say old, how dare I say nonsense! The diary of youth records my beautiful or sour past, and I didn’t throw it away. That’s OK. What kind of realm do you still want in life, and I won’t be wandering, to put it bluntly, that is too unrealistic. No. In fact, the bearing capacity of life is basically the same, and life that likes to add weight to oneself may be more tiring. A person always feels confused when he has gone through childhood, youth, youth and middle age, thinking that he has understood life, seen through humanity and truly understood the meaning of life. Most of the time I mistakenly believe that I really understand life, but it is actually silly and ridiculous! Listening to Sha Baoliang’s song, his fingers fluttering on the keyboard, he suddenly felt that such a scene was actually a very happy thing, and life was like this! Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. Whether your mood is like a year, or… Forever military dream Forever military Dream (Ma Xiaochun, Kangle county, Gansu province) memories are like meteors, passing through the unmarked and blurred eyes, and the outline gradually… Spring rain I like spring rain like everything on the Earth. Just after the new year, the sky began to rain. I really like the spring in Jiangnan… Plucked the snowflakes of Dreams (modified) Near the new year, the first snow fell. I was surprised to read a long scroll in the morning, the white one is snow, and the gray one is tree… Self The fashion is transient, and the style is permanent. Things that can shine on others may not be put here. In…

Time is a mandala

Down, with flower, heart seamless. If you think it over carefully, if you write in this state, you will become a Buddha. Walk through every fate cycle of floating life in a posture that knows everything, and simply see the flowers bloom and fall in front of the court, and the clouds are rolling and relaxing outside the sky. — Text: just sitting outside the years, watching others crying or smiling happily in their own stories, watching those mottled fragments slide across the faces of all living beings, but I was unmoved like a holy monk. For many people who love writing, maybe writing is a beautiful and sentimental epiphany. Maybe because of loneliness, the fingers give birth to a cool charm, or because the heart is filled with crazy thoughts, it has become a deep and shallow poem on the letter. Just like the colorful petals, the autumn leaves are far away from the branches, life is in the moment of curtain call, and all kinds of tastes float on the heart between the eyebrows, turning into a piece of paper to present in front of us. Stumbling all the way, the ups and downs of the mood, in the noisy floating world, turned into a serenity in song lyrics. I used to be so tired of consuming the precious fleeting time that I thought in some kind of monotony, just like watching some dreams alienate into souls buried in deep valleys in a trivial drift. It was hard to remember after years. When I suddenly felt shocked, I found that white hair began to grow in the blue silk. Days drop like water in the repeated journey, and when you stare at it again, there is no trace. Only a few faint rays of light flickered deep in the eyes. It seems to tell me how to waste the most beautiful streamer. For me, writing has become a gesture of solidifying memory and paying tribute to myself after years. When all the disturbing thoughts turn into characters one by one under the fingertips, the heart is a kind of clear emptiness. The heart which is like glaze will bloom into a clear Lotus in the clear water, and it will become clear and beautiful in the dim night. She is the only Mandala in my heart, on the other side of my dream. Even if it is out of reach, I will still knock down a line of low songs about sadness or joy with my fingertips in the sadness of the lamp flower. Although, I am not a woman who loves writing, it is just accidental. Just like choosing a beautiful gorgeous dress for myself occasionally, I like to wrap my fragile soul with graceful and gorgeous coat. I am afraid of seeing those dark corners, I am afraid of those scenes that make my heart feel bitter and painful. After all, I can’t stand myself as a stone sculpture outside the world of mortals. I still need the smell of fireworks and the warm atmosphere to bake my coolness and decadence. I was afraid that I would become a dead wood under the burning sun, and the lonely branches would sway in the wind. Thinking about this long time and short life, how can I peel off the annual rings attached to my body layer by layer to see my hidden innocence. Therefore, in the words, I learned how to string those scattered fragments into complete memories. I remembered my dream, wandering in different folk customs like San Mao, and wrote down all kinds of beautiful chances on the paper. With a person who can hold a warm hand, I will travel all over the mountains and rivers. Without a house, love is enough. There is no deposit, just have a pair of hands holding each other. In such a life, even if you are wandering from place to place, there is love spreading into a vivid and simple scenery, which is the deepest and most satisfying happiness for me. However, such a dream will eventually be left out of the soul. It is like a dark wound printed in the abyss that cannot be touched. Appreciating San Mao’s bravery, such a romantic woman, no one can restrain her unrestrained thinking. She searched for the dream in her heart in the wandering, and wrote all the joys and sorrows she had experienced in her life in the wandering. Even if you spend your whole life, you will have no regrets. When her words burst into a beautiful flower in my heart, I knew what attitude her soul was to bid farewell to the rolling red dust. Those words floating in the water, in fact, are just a kind of warmth in imagination. Afraid of the extreme desolation in Eileen Chang’s words, her dream gave birth to vicissitudes of flowers under her fingertips, which opened on the readers’ heart with a desperate poignant beauty. I am afraid of the carelessness day after day and the unfathomable Jianghu among people. And I would rather keep the beauty and purity in my dream and walk on the edge of the words in my destiny. Even if you just live in the happiness of your own weaving, you are also willing to live like this in your whole life, embedding the joy of words into every inch of time. I like the sentence written by Jian Zheng in “Smoke wave Blue”. Just look at it like this until the floating world is seen as dust on the eyelashes. I am willing to hold a pure and beautiful feeling like this, staring at the winding clouds in the depth of the flowing light, and passing through the sky of life like a glimpse of the floating light. Those trivial disappointments and the complexity of people’s hearts were all hidden away in the peaceful smoke blue. At this moment, the rain outside the window was falling gradually, knocking on the window lattice, melancholy became a song of departing in the late spring. The wanton wind carried the silk and fell into the distant sky in the dark. In the sparse rain line, he stranded himself in the past thoughts. Looking back on the time when writing, those emotions accumulated to a certain degree were diffused between the lines, like finding a quiet exit. The pain which is enchanted in life is scattered like dust in a kind of whisper which is almost muttering to oneself. It was like the enchanting bloom of liquid in blood vessels in the dark night like flowers, and then they decided to leave. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. Whether your mood is like a year, or… Forever military dream Forever military Dream (Ma Xiaochun, Kangle county, Gansu province) memories are like meteors, passing through the unmarked and blurred eyes, and the outline gradually… Spring rain I like spring rain like everything on the Earth. Just after the new year, the sky began to rain. I really like the spring in Jiangnan… Plucked the snowflakes of Dreams (modified) Near the new year, the first snow fell. I was surprised to read a long scroll in the morning, the white one is snow, and the gray one is tree… Self The fashion is transient, and the style is permanent. Things that can shine on others may not be put here. In…