I'm not sure if he can see my existence clearly in a certain world, whether he is happy or sad. I prayed for his forgiveness. I have no chance to visit him every year. My friends told me that it would be good to just think about them in my heart, but in fact it is difficult for me to do this. Maybe I was all he had when I was born, but I didn't appreciate it. Of course, I don't understand. I had to wait until his eyes closed before all my tears came out. I called him and he turned his head with difficulty. A fly flies around, and he
It's just that I believe there is something between me and him, no matter where the coordinates are, whether it's space or time, so I bought a ticket to go back and have a look. This season, his residence is full of green plants and businesses.
He is a lively person, and this is his festival.
The road in the world of mortals is slowly walking, but the heart in time is badly hurt, and the years force us to be strong-
We should learn to face all the pain alone, because no one will understand.
We should learn to cry alone, because this is our own way.
We should learn to try all the injuries alone, because no one will be our shoulder to lean on.
We should learn to take things as they are.
If time hurts us, then we will respond with strength!
When we were young, we played hide and seek, threw sandbags and chased dragonflies barefoot. Today, we worry about exams, and sometimes we worry about trivial things inexplicably. Innocence is gone, and nostalgia will only confuse people. Youth brings everything silently, and steals everything silently and invisibly.
We have in the world of youth, and we have lost some in the years of youth. Youth is silent, and years make people old. What remains unchanged is that we have been looking for and fighting for one dream after another. Youth is a dream, half awake and half hazy. When you wake up, you know everything. ...
Emotional prose model essay 4 Qingming Festival, rolling red dust. I embarked on this journey in a simple suit, but I couldn't win back a complete heart. The indifference of the world, the disillusionment of hope. And those who have suffered and suffered; Shout pain, tears; Can't see the truth, can't tell right from wrong, once loved deeply, Ye Si's hysterical pain. I once humbled my head and lived proudly.
The road I walked, but I couldn't find that person; Humming that song, but losing that love. The posture of childhood, the bleak night scene. The long-term expectation came to an abrupt end, but the tight key could no longer open the dusty heart lock.
Pretend, maybe just to avoid injury, no one will ask us about tossing and turning in the dark, tears falling, no one will ask us about rushing into the rain alone, no one will ask us about being deeply hurt but unable to talk slowly.
The emotional prose model essay 5 recalls the sea, and the dribs and drabs of those years messed up my thoughts. Time always goes on, and old things are always replaced by new memories. Youth is a long journey, always looking for it alone. Dreams are always in the distance, time and time again difficult, time and time again injured, people are used to being strong and crazy.
Victory can't belong to you, nor can failure belong to me. At that time, I was always young and frivolous, always taking everything so important, and I always wanted to have everything. Maybe everyone has their own personality at some time and has a different way of looking at hair from others.
Youth constantly teaches us to practice and grow. In the journey of youth, there are always some people who pass us by in a hurry. We were happy when we met in those years, and we were sad when we left in those years. All the stories were washed away by tears together. Later, some people gradually lost contact, and that happy day was trampled by time, and there was nowhere to collect.
As long as I can remember, my father seems to have been carrying a pole on his shoulder. There are bamboo poles made of semi-pulp bamboo and tree poles made of pine.
Our home is in a small ravine called Outfield deep in Siming Mountain. Behind the house is Qianmen Mountain, opposite which is called Shangkeng Aoshan, on the left is called Leilonggou, and on the right is called Yangshan Bay. When I was a child, there were 62 families living in five natural villages in Fiona Fang, namely Shibili, Li Chang, Outfield, Longtankeng and Caoxielingjiao. The name of this village is Gankeng Temple. During the Cultural Revolution, it was renamed Dongfang Village. According to ancestors, there was a nun here a long time ago. Later, robbers on Siming Mountain took a nun as the wife of the village, so people went to the temple to prostrate themselves. Until our generation can't find the trace of the temple. My family is in a foreign factory, and there are 12 families scattered here, with five surnames: Zhu, Gong, Mi, Yao and Ye. The village party secretary and production team leader have long been held by people from other factories. Therefore, the outfield is the political center of Gankeng 'an village.
The outer factory faces Gankeng 'an Reservoir, which is located in the crevice between Aoshan Mountain and Yangshan Bay Mountain. The dam is a mud dam, but it is very strong. It was built in the 1960s. At the end of autumn or after the rain, the reservoir is filled with fog and layer upon layer, filling up the gullies and gullies in the surrounding mountains. We can only see the corner of our home. It has become a fairy tower, full of mystery and beauty.
The village is vast and sparsely populated, and the farm work in the village can only be dispatched by radio. Before dawn, the sun is like an egg-yellow yellow disk, wrapped in thick white fog. The dispatching sound of the production captain penetrated the dense fog, which was quite a bit of a fairy preaching; Because of the heavy echo of the valley, the last sentence has been said, and the previous sentence is still turning in the mountains.
My father is a famous labor expert in the village. Whether working in the mountains or in the fields, he is handy and admirable. Therefore, his work performance is always the highest in the village. The village party secretary and production captain, who are also paid points, always refer to my dad's points at the end of the year. We call it bump.
Because, there is an old woman in our family, three brothers and sisters in our family, and our mother is sickly, so no matter how hard my father works, we still overspend in the village by the end of the year. For this reason, my father, who insists on providing us with school education, often has to face heckling from his neighbors who have a large labor force. We are three brothers and sisters, four years apart. I went to high school, my sister went to junior high school, and my brother went to primary school, showing a ladder-like distribution. Most people of my age have become formal laborers at home, those of my sister's age have become semi-laborers, and those of my brother's age are grazing cattle and mowing grass. At that time, a positive labor force earned 10 a day, children earned 3 divisions a day, and adult women earned 6 divisions a day. Therefore, there is a semi-labor force at home, which can support itself and solve many difficulties at home. Some discerning parents let their children give up their studies early and learn to do farm work. In this way, their family will live a richer and more comfortable life, while our family will live a bumpy and painful life. In order to maintain the livelihood of a family of six, my father seems to have no time to rest. In the morning, when we went to school with our schoolbags on our backs, my father had gone home with a load of pig grass; At noon, when everyone else is taking a lunch break, my father is drying straw in the scorching sun; At dusk, others have set up a dragon gate array after dinner, and my father walked down the mountain with heavy steps, carrying a load of firewood. In a year, my father never stops working only on the thirtieth day of the lunar calendar and the first day or two of the New Year's Day.
Although I am very young, I am very sensible. When I came home from school, as soon as my schoolbag was put away, I picked up my basket, brought my axe, chewed the cooked sweet potato and knocked on the dead and moldy stump up the hill. On holidays, a wall of dead trees more than two yards high and more than one person high will be erected under my house, tied into small bundles on Sunday, and sold to Huang Ze Town, which is 15 miles away. Because the stump is resistant to burning and lasts for a long time, all the residents in the town like it. At that time, I could pick thirty or forty kilograms at a time, and generally I could sell it for seventy or eighty cents. After selling firewood, I bought a cage of delicious steamed bread in the street snack bar and wolfed it down. Then, I clutched a few cents in my pocket and went home happily. The hard work and sweat on the road to selling firewood are diluted without a trace by colorful banknotes and small steamed buns that have been eaten for a long time and still have a fragrance.
At that time, in our village, there were many people selling firewood to earn money, especially during the slack season. Sometimes there were long queues of firewood sellers, including adults and children who were 12 or 13 years old like me. After selling firewood, adults will buy some rice and meat to improve their lives, while we will buy some paper and pens for study. Every penny is carefully calculated and not wasted. Many times, I went with my father. A few times, I was too weak to carry half of it. Seeing my heavy footsteps, my father will unload some firewood from my burden and put it on him. So, my father's firewood is getting heavier and heavier, and my firewood is getting lighter and lighter. Once, on the road, my father's left foot suddenly twitched. He tied his left foot, endured the pain and continued to carry the heavy burden with difficulty. On the eve of school, my father sold firewood more frequently. In order to sell more firewood and earn more money, he sometimes borrows trolleys from friends at the foot of the mountain, which can not only transport more firewood, but also save a lot of physical strength. In order to share my father's hard work, my father often pushes me behind. I tied a long rope to the front of the car, and along the way, father and son could still talk. At that time, because the family was poor and there was no clock, it was necessary to sell firewood early, and the time to go out could only be estimated by the stars. Many times, due to an estimation error, firewood was pulled to Huang Ze Town before dawn.
My father's hair began to turn gray in his early forties because of years of fatigue. At the age of fifty, my father was full of silver hair, and the hardships and difficulties of life were deeply imprinted on his face and head. Unbutton the coat, and two high-rise calluses on the shoulders protrude like humps. All the old clothes worn by my father are always lined with thick shoulder pads, which my mother specially sewed to relieve the pain on my father's shoulders.
After the resumption of the college entrance examination, I became the first champion of the college entrance examination in our village, and my neighbors were shocked for a time. Holding the university admission notice, listening to the villagers from eight neighboring villages come to congratulate, my father shed tears with excitement. This is the only time I can remember my father crying. To celebrate, my father killed the fat pig who was preparing for the Spring Festival at home and set up more than a dozen tables to entertain relatives, friends and neighbors. The next year, my sister won the laurel again. For a time, the story of brother and sister going to college one after another became a permanent topic in the small mountain village.
In order to give me time to go to college, my father and I sold firewood for half a month, and finally bought me a Zhongshan watch. This watch, which used to cost 30 yuan, worked with me after graduation from college.
However, fate played a trick on people. Soon after I joined the work, my father fell ill because of years of physical overdraft. It took two years from township hospitals to county hospitals and then to provincial hospitals, and my father's illness finally passed away. At the age of sixty, my father lived a peaceful life. Ordinary, ordinary, no waves, no waves, a lifetime of dedication, in exchange for our three brothers and sisters are out of the mountains. Influenced by my family, my neighbors gradually saw the hope of studying. After the three of us, a dozen young people in the small mountain village have been admitted to the university in recent years.
After burying my father, I took my mother to live in the city. When I said goodbye to my hometown, I took the last pole my father used before his death, which was made of pine. Because of years of sweat soaking, the middle section has been sauce red. I put it in my study. Whenever the dead of night, I will gently pick it up and touch it. Father's faint sweat stinks in the smooth shoulder pole.
My father's shoulder pole always reminds me of my responsibility to my family and society.
Emotional prose model essay 7 Qing Huan, a happy fireworks in full bloom
If you can, plant a poem in your heart, and a beautiful little flower will bloom in the fireworks, enchanting and fragrant. If you can, keep a quiet and happy jade beauty. When the years pass through the window of the porch, a beam of light enters the bottom of my heart, which warms the bleak and desolate past, opens the heart of the soul and is full of happiness and satisfaction.
On weekdays, half fireworks and half happiness. Symphony of pots and pans, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar and tea are the fireworks of life, and no one can live without the truth of life.
It's a long way to go in Xiu Yuan, but we live in the world. When we are busy every day, we should learn to leave a blank for the years, give ourselves a place to live, be quiet, simple and empty our hearts. Every time, we cherish this ease and cherish this shallow time.
Play a piece of music to relax your mind in the rhythm; Soak a cup of green tea to keep irritability away in the mist; If at this time, write another line of fine print, let the soul glaze in the ink, rhyme and dye, and feel.
The wind has passed through the years and tasted the vicissitudes of life; It's raining cats and dogs, drinking all kinds of joys and sorrows. Observe the years quietly, explain everything, wash away the fireworks, secretly enjoy half a book, and just be a simple, calm and plain woman.
Read the time, the years and the past, so as to gradually know how to cherish and know how to live. Cherish family, cherish friends, cherish the past, cherish every ray of sunshine, know how to cherish yourself, be kind to time and years, give life a smile, be indifferent to the world of mortals, move forward calmly and gracefully, and let your heart meet the original self in a quiet word like a flower.
As I get older, time passes, but my mood is still bright, I know how to smile and learn to be strong. In life, there is no impassable ditch, no unstoppable wind and rain, no impassable river. Only by planting a simple, simple and Zen heart in your heart can you find a quiet time, leaning against the window, holding a lamp and poetically entertaining yourself. ...
Listen to a song "Shui Yun Yi", be quiet; Brew a pot of jasmine tea, wash away the soul, write down fresh fine print, and let the days slowly and gracefully move towards the sunshine in the fireworks and according to the warm fragrance of life.
On the world of mortals, if ordinary days are turned into birds and flowers; Fill the earthly past with clouds and breezes; Turn full of melancholy into a butterfly, then you will be happy, you will be happy, your heart will be full of sunshine, fragrance, brightness and happiness, and the years will be beautiful.
On weekdays, I like to live in seclusion in words, like elegant and true words, those touching poems, read to the bone, my heart is full of thoughts, entangled in fleeting past events.
Fireworks are fleeting, counting the cold, winter is getting stronger and stronger, drink a cup of hot tea, be kind to yourself, time goes by, youth is fading away, a happy woman is not without thoughts in her heart, but a faint, shallow dwelling in her soul, occasionally turning up, or smiling with low eyebrows, or writing with a pen. If life is like the first time, it is happy and poetic.
There are flowers and trees in the four seasons, and life is different. Passing by your city and my stationery, leaving a fragrance, enough for you to taste that fragrance for a long time. Some people say that parting is only for the next beautiful reunion, maybe, maybe not, life, who can predict? Emotion, who can be complete? If you have hidden thoughts in your heart, remember that time with joy and happiness, and don't treat the fleeting time lightly. Looking out the window, can you be safe in the distance? If you always remember the warmth you first saw, will you still be cold this winter?
Love for life can't be explained by a single love word. Because of it, it has been integrated into our body and life. That is real, tangible, visible and secular. How can I be happier than a porridge and a meal? How can you be more real than a silent company? How can you get dressed in cold weather? How can I be more practical than a cup of warm water in the morning? How can I know that I know myself better? How can you be more real than a luxurious I love you?
Make a promise that the world is stable, full of red dust, secretly happy and happy; Listen, a Zen sound, low back, tactfully distant. Shallow reading, light lotus, simple but elegant, calm and fragrant. Blink of an eye, we don't count the years, the four seasons change in the dark, let nature take its course. We just want to keep one person's happiness and two people's happiness, plant poetry in a porridge and a meal, harvest happiness in the left hand, harvest beauty, and harvest a shallow joy in full bloom. .........
At the age of eight, both Zhu Ziqing's back and Mr. Ba Jin's silkworm moved me deeply. At that time, I never had the concept of "how much love there is in every inch of grass, which returns three rays of spring". I only knew that there was a feeling that suddenly touched a nerve, and then tears could not stop. Out of curiosity, I read those sensitive sentences over and over again, and finally I couldn't find the answer to the explanation, leaving a mystery. At that time, I was looking forward to the flight of time, and the wings of dreams were eager to run to the blue sky. Then, when I was growing up, I realized that this answer needed my whole life to understand and interpret. When I grew up, I read Yu Guangzhong's Homesickness. "Later, homesickness became a temporary grave. I am outside and my mother is inside. " I stopped for a long time and felt like a lifetime ago. Thousands of thoughts poured into my heart like a river. If "Back" and "Spring Silkworm" are just tender feelings, then "Homesickness" has undoubtedly brought me a heavy impact. At that moment, the feeling of "children want to raise but never give up" will be so strong. The bulge and tears in my chest made me deeply feel what I really should do. I was 16 years old that year.
Then in time, I always look forward to the stop of time. Because I clearly saw the marks left by the ruthlessness of years on my parents: my forehead wrinkled and my hair turned white. The whole world will grow up, and on the way to growth, how many times have we inadvertently found that too many people have quietly left our sight in our unintentional attention. Since then, I often feel fear and anxiety, fearing that the waste of time will mercilessly take away my relatives around me. Parents exchanged their aging for our youth. Should we use the rebellion of youth to accelerate our aging? As time goes by, I am more and more cautious, for fear that an unintentional word and a rebellious behavior will make them frown anxiously. I am alert to my behavior and do my duty as a child, because I am afraid that time is running out, and that is the case in the past years. Looking back over the past 20 years, I have rebelled and argued with my parents because of my stubbornness and stubbornness in the process of growing up.
Things are different, there will undoubtedly be regrets in life, but understanding always takes the lead. I understand that such opposition at that time was really out of helplessness, but I am still grateful that they did not deprive me of my right to choose like many people. I am very lucky, because compared with too many people around me, I am still lucky. In my opinion, the deep feeling of gratitude is far more important than the regret of moving. Parents have watered the beauty of our life with their mediocre life, and the feeling of gratitude has become infinitely long because of the interpretation between generations. The crow knows how to feed back, and the lamb kneels and suckles, not to mention that we are still children.
Emotional prose model essay 9 Life will be dull, why should feelings be ordinary?
Love, however, accompanied us through warm mornings and romantic evenings. In the season of missing, pieces of fallen leaves, like butterflies, danced in our lives, interpreting our love, hate, sadness, bitterness, sweetness and sweetness. Although too shy, but extremely touching. Perhaps it is the most painful memory to draw out a sword and cut off water. More is full of love for each other, attachment to each other, waiting for that day, a cordial greeting, like a poem scattered in the wind, gently interprets our joys and sorrows and beautifully decorates our brilliant and colorful life.
Countless times I waited for you, but I didn't see you tempted. I stopped to stare at you countless times, but I didn't see your emotions. Just for that encounter, I was deeply infatuated with opening my long-forgotten heart and plunged into a fragrant apricot blossom spring rain. I don't want to leave all my life. Accustomed to silently feeling your seemingly dull but inadvertently moving language, I like to chew your long-term seemingly simple but loving silent concern. I like to hear your simple but more affectionate greetings. At this moment, as you said, I feel an unspeakable pleasure, but I can't express it. Inadvertently, I was told by you that life is dull and feelings are not always led by the nose. I deeply appreciate your firm love in misty eyes.
True love is not because of material wealth, not because of beautiful appearance. Accompanying me all my life is a heart, unspeakable feelings and endless nostalgia. I waded from the other shore and crossed the secular fireworks just to meet you beautifully in the deepest part of the world of mortals. Why is the string of acacia so gentle, but I can't play all my affection for you? I feel your throbbing heartbeat, and there are silent thoughts between the lines, which are graceful and colorful.
Slip down, tears become butterflies, the world of mortals loves you all your life, and you are my deep attachment in previous lives. People who know love know what to give up and what to cherish, and people who know love know what distance and pity are. Not all love is a perfect match, not all feelings are sincere opposites. What hurts the most is the truest feelings. The world of love is inevitably scarred. The most precious thing in the world is not the meeting of love at first sight, but the wind and rain in two of a kind. Many feelings can stand the wind and rain, but they can't stand the dullness, the gathering and dispersion, but they can't stand the test of time. Time will dilute passion, and love will change from romantic to ordinary. I really like it. I hope to go to the foggy city. True feelings are tireless, and the heart is the driving force. Love is the joy of two hearts, and we can't help getting closer. Love is also the pet of tsing yi coarse cloth, and poor tea is also comfortable.
True feelings are speechless, cherish, accompany and love deeply. I love because my feelings have been integrated into my life. I am hurt because I understand your fragility, care for it in my heart, know your tears and know your drunkenness. I don't hesitate to pay silently. I do my best with all my heart. I don't want to be amorous, but pity my favorite, and I only respond with my heart. People who have touched their true feelings always have the most humble feelings. Because I care too much, I am always afraid of being ignored. Because they pay too much, they are always afraid of disappointment. They carefully maintain it and devote themselves desperately. Sometimes it doesn't matter, sometimes it can make them feel sad, and sometimes they don't want to look back, but they make themselves very painful and their feelings are often controlled by them. In short, they often move silently. In fact, a good relationship is not chasing but attracting, not seeking but hitting it off. Love can be vigilant, but it can't be extravagant. Love can be tolerant, but not indulgent. Only with sincerity can we have a thorough heart. Only when you know and understand each other can you appreciate each other, and only when you care about each other can you make your heart respond. Only when you know, can you love and care. Therefore, love is a feeling, and it is unknown. When you love with your heart, you feel a kind of happiness. If a love is completely from the experience of the soul, then this love is extremely pure.
It is extremely precious, because it has not been involved in intrigue, nor has it been polluted by fame and fortune. Love and affection are different, love and love are different, life will be dull, and feelings should not be ordinary.