1 The string of blue wind chimes in the window swayed slightly, and a gust of wind blew, and the pipes made of crystal collided together, making a crisp sound and pleasing to the ear. As if walking on the road, I met a stream, picked up a stone, threw it into the water naughtily, and watched how it drew a beautiful arc in the air and then fell into the water gracefully. The sound of "dong" was clear and vigorous, splashing a few drops of water, then rippling around, expanding round after round, and the water was rough, which shattered his reflection in the water, but revealed a childlike smile. Focus back to this string of wind chimes, look at this string of wind chimes, and make a clear sound like wind chimes.
The complex mood calmed down, quietly listening to a string of wonderful notes, as fresh as spring water flowing out of a deep mountain canyon, slipped into my heart and had a long-lost quiet smile on my face. I took out MP3 from my schoolbag, put it in my ear, and played beautiful music, all of which were my favorite songs. I put on a white skirt, untied my ponytail, rode my bike and went out for a long trip. There is also a song in the ear rope, which makes people relax. It seems that I haven't been so relaxed for a long time. Well, that's settled. Long journey!
The refreshing breeze blows on my face, lifting my long hair and flying in the air, which makes me particularly comfortable. My ears are still singing, riding a bicycle on the road, and my hair is flying with the wind, which constitutes a beautiful picture. What could be more enjoyable than this? All right, take a break. I wonder with lust, is it the slightest breeze blowing head-on, especially comfortable, fluttering long hair? Let it go, that's just what I want, a beautiful romance. Youth needs romance.
In front of me is a hill, which is not very high, but at least, sitting on it, I can look at the whole city, with green grass and a tall tree on the top. I parked my bike on the side of the road and looked at the tree. It seemed particularly proud ... It was really difficult to climb it. Lying on the grass, the grass tip is hard and sharp, itchy and fresh.
Another breeze blew, gently hitting my face, and several leaves fell from the top of my head. Looking at the beautiful dance that fell, I froze, as if I understood something, and sat up. The leaves drifted away with the wind. Without leaving a greeting, they will travel far alone. I cut off a few strands of hair, put them in my palm, and blow them gently, and they will follow the footsteps of the leaves. Maybe they will become companions of leaves. The flying figure is still clearly visible, just like the figure with long hair flying in the air at the moment. I brushed aside the bangs on my forehead with my hands and cut my hair that was messed up by the wind. Put your hands back on the ground, look up, but think of bits and pieces.
Sky blue, pure without any impurities, a few clouds floating in the air, so white. The sky is really a desirable place. I looked into the distance. In the vast sky, there are several goshawks flying, oh, the overlord of the sky,
I envy them. The beautiful clouds seem to be mixed with some moss. Will it be mine? I sat there lazily, humming my favorite song gently.
At this time, the blue wind chimes in front of the window are still swaying gently, sending out a series of crystal clear reminders, which are the joyful sounds that collide together, and life will meet many times. Like the collision of crystal tubes, crystal clear reminders will accompany me through countless spring, summer, autumn and winter. A few leaves floated to the window, and then a few wisps of moss floated in, floated into the window and landed on the desk facing the window. It turns out that everything in life can be so clever.
Prose reading manuscript 2 "May 1" holiday, golden week travel, the quality and state of life fully embodies its leisurely nature, in such a rare holiday. Happy people, like birds, fly out to enjoy life, sunshine and family.
I am a heavy snail, crawling slowly on this big tree in my house with the sun on my back, and this big tree has become dead wood, rotten wood, and only grows "fungi". The so-called life is like an ant, which is probably what I said. In short, I didn't want to go out, so I started a seven-day tour at home. I don't know in what state I finished this roaming, but the general feeling is: days are like knives.
I don't talk, I don't look at the time, I am accompanied by silence day and night, and I am accompanied by words. It is thirteen steps from the study to the door, and thirteen steps from the door to the study. My room is seven steps bigger than the cell in the slag hole. My door can be opened by hand and my body can go out. However, my heart can't be opened, and my heart won't let my body go out for a walk. I don't know why. Unscrew tap water, it is my tears that are unscrewed; When I saw the moon, I saw the ups and downs, joys and sorrows; When I saw the rope, I saw the noose; Standing at the window, I imagined myself as a bird, making a beautiful dive ... My lively sister couldn't help being so dull, jumping around to breathe fresh air, looking for bright sunshine, and my red face and I formed the South Pole and the North Pole. She began to protest, hungry, she cried hungry, I cooked for her; Tired, I will hug her; When she is dirty, I will wash her; Sleepy, I made her bed and put her to sleep. Everything was in order, but the sound was turned off and turned into a pantomime.
My sister and a "robot sister" stayed in prison for 7 days.
My friends say that I am as strong as a mountain, and I am carrying such a big thing alone. I know I'm just silent. Silence is always the last line of defense for all kinds of people and things, and has nothing to do with being strong. Behind this mountain, my real feeling is that life is like fog.
But the mature perceptual knowledge clearly tells me that the evaluation of people and things is not a knife that can completely distinguish right from wrong, red and white, so-called black and white, but an ideal and dust-free society. People are exhausted in the world of mortals. Who doesn't yearn for the' Peach Blossom Garden' in his heart? The situation at home is even more ambiguous, bitter and self-aware. It is not the pain of others, but the breath of others. Why didn't you say it? It's better not to say. Life is like a knife!
Full-time pain is a luxury, and my sister is still hungry. So, I dressed up as a smiling face and sang Long song crying to go to work. My tired hands opened the heavy door, and the dazzling sunshine slipped in. The smoky wind in the early mansion took the opportunity to touch my face. I felt an endless stream of heat, as if I had seen the light of day again.
I thought I was the only one living a tomb-like holiday, but those happy birds flew back again, full of complaints. They are tired and tired. I thought the sun was shining like gold everywhere, and there were ups and downs everywhere, but I didn't come to my house and my mood gradually improved: anyway, life always goes on. In order to make up for the loss, I went to the supermarket to buy snacks, brought back bright green vegetables and weighed bright fruits. Life is like a palette, and days are like prose.
In this stormy day, I finally understand a truth: happiness comes from the heart and pain comes from the state of mind. Days are like knives and words, in an instant of human thought. Only when the heart flows smoothly, can the days be like prose, like flowing clouds, and life be like a leisurely walk; And the blockage of mood will really make days like knives, like long nights, like snails carrying that heavy shell.
I suddenly realized the true meaning of life, like a cool breeze blowing from a skylight, which secreted people's hearts and spleen; It is also very possible to suddenly fall into the black hole again, thinking that your ceiling is the whole sky, thus falling into a dilemma of confusion and despair.
Who will have a heart that will never lose, and where will there be a road that will never look back? Is this life?