Monologue prose in the depths of the soul 1 Tonight, sitting alone in a corner, tearing off layers of masks to disguise myself, sinking into the edge of reality and pursuit. Accustomed to the bitterness of coffee, eager for the purity of clear water, eager for the faint company with people, eager for the carefree dependence of the heart, so good.
Don't talk to me about interests, I just want to tell the truth; Don't talk to me about scheming, I just want to be simple; Don't talk to me about power, I just want to be calm and comfortable. ...
To survive in this real society, there is a lot of helplessness that devours our souls. Life does not need a gorgeous appearance. In the face of this complicated world, many times, we are afraid to tell others what is in our inner world. I have seen through the hypocrisy and flattery of this world, longing for truth, fantasizing about truth, and imagining that there is a kind of transparency that does not cover up. It is a kind of frankness without masks and hypocrisy, which can make my heart calmer and purer.
A person, quietly, in the fragrance of a cup of tea, abandoned all the complicated things and let the mood spread with the smoke. Those thick or light inextricably linked, then wanton diarrhea in my mind. All the heartbeats, or the feeling of heartache, are flooding in the bottomless sea of hearts. However, some feelings, in the bottom of my heart, in the depths of my soul, have been numb. Have I forgotten how to hurt and how to cry?
Some words are very hurtful. However, I forget when it started. I forgot the feeling of pain. I just listened blankly without saying a word. It's not that I'm weak, it's not that I have no temper, but that no matter how much I say, there are more unreasonable reasons, that is, a scholar meets a scholar and is unreasonable. So, I became more and more silent. Only silence will make you less hurt.
Some scars are stinging. However, I forget when it started. I forgot the taste of crying and just looked at it numbly. Then, I didn't cry, not because I was strong, not because I was cold-blooded, but because I didn't have more emotions. When I can cry, I forget how to cry. Accustomed to cynicism, accustomed to being a woman who knows nothing, accustomed to not being regarded as a treasure in my hand, I have always been very independent. Perhaps, in the face of injury and pain, I am really numb and silent.
There is "Love is You and Me" circulating in the speaker, which is a touching song. Listen, listen, I found my true self, and my heart will break and I will cry. A deep, vicissitudes, heavy music, into life, clean up the dust falling in the bottom of my heart, and hit the softest corner in the depths of my soul. At this moment, tears poured down. It turns out that I will cry. ...
A painful and tenacious piece of music washed my heart clean. At this moment, there is a feeling of truth, goodness and beauty blooming in my heart. Truth, goodness and beauty are like an unadjusted flower. Although it is not enchanting and gorgeous, it is not fragrant. However, it is a faint fragrance that permeates my heart.
A little touching words, some caring words, inadvertently into the ear, eyes, heart, the bottom of my heart will be warm, sweet, tears will be uncontrolled, wanton flow, flooding. Sometimes, I really don't know what kind of woman I am. In the face of pain, I stubbornly did not shed a tear; In the face of warmth, my heart is soft enough to squeeze out water.
This page of faint heart, rippling in the moonlight, listening to a monologue in the depths of the soul under the comfort of the night wind. In the dense tea fog, in the faint tea fragrance, the taste is shallow; Think of thick and faint thoughts. Long-lost elegance and clarity, accompanied by green tea, slowly penetrated into every corner of the soul, forgetting all worldly things and adding a daydream.
Even though life has given me endless pain and suffering, I still feel happier. Yes, as the lyrics say, happiness will be more, happiness will be very simple, a cordial greeting, or a pair of deep eyes, are so warm to cover me and illuminate my bleak life.
The room is empty, the room is black, the room is empty, and there is only my crying in the room. Curled up in a corner, only this corner belongs to me.
You suddenly said you were leaving and I stood there. Panic spread all over the body, and he collapsed weakly. I want to keep you, but I find myself speechless. Only my hands are unable to hold my head, only endless tears. It turns out that tears are so bitter that they have been flowing in my heart.
Obviously said not to cry, but couldn't hold back; Clearly saying that you don't care, but desperately grasping; I clearly agree to go alone, but I'm afraid of loneliness. Only then did I realize how weak I was. I hope you don't go, don't leave me alone in the street, don't leave me when it rains, and don't let me face all the cold alone.
It was raining outside, so I ran out and took a good bath. I just can't erase that memory.
If only life were like the first time. In this way, there will be no banquet that never ends; In this way, there will be no sorrow and pain; So you don't care that much. Or you shouldn't see it in life. It's just that I've seen it, but I keep it in mind.
I am pursuing, I am calling, I am sentimentally attached, I am waiting, but everything becomes gloomy. Everything is illusory, everything is ethereal, everything is empty, everything is so sad, everything is so powerless.
The phone has been turned on, and I still have some extravagant hopes in my heart. I hope you can make a phone call or send a message. Always so quiet, always so cold. My heart is completely cold. There should be no illusions and no expectations. More hope will only bring endless sorrow. My hope never came true. What I should know is that I don't want to believe it I just lied to myself again and again and refused to wake up. Finally, it's just empty. Damn expectations, damn pain.
It's just foam. Ha, it's just foam.
It's cold. Why is it so cold? Cold to the bone, cold soul.
It's just who can warm me now?
At this point, I am cold. At this moment, my heart is broken. I didn't sleep that night.
Monologues in the depths of the soul 3 Strange lights gradually filled the crowded dance floor, and the lonely and unnoticed lead singer in the center of the stage was humming something in confusion. The noisy crowd has its own happiness, so the bartender in the forgotten corner is particularly lonely.
I went over, pulled up a chair and chatted with him casually. I am talking to a man who is no longer young, with messy long hair and pale face, but there is a deep light in my eyes.
And he smiled at me, silver-gray smile, gentleman's elegance. But his eyes are cold.
what would you like to drink? The voice is low but warm.
I don't know. Whatever you want to do for me, I hear that you are a good cook.
So this.
He took out a cup of pure water and then conjured up a cup of blue mountain coffee like magic.
This is the real blue mountain coffee, growing alone on the water island. Power grid is scarce.
I gently dipped my finger and put it in my mouth. Childish behavior made him laugh.
I think of someone. Pu Shu.
He used to be as simple as a glass of pure water.
His voice is direct and true, which always makes me feel that he is by my side. In a silent life, it is like looking up. I can vaguely see his trance-like eyes and childish smile, sometimes brilliant and sometimes lonely. I don't know why I always hear his heavy breathing gradually extending from the earphone, which makes me clearly feel his inner struggle and helplessness. He misses the deep sadness of the past, and he believes that he will eventually have a bright future and a beautiful place that he really touches and yearns for.
Any language is pale in front of his music, except his equally clean lyrics. The knife burns its brilliance when it sees blood. Those intermittent sentences contain great pain that I have but can never express clearly. But he can tell us clearly, or more to himself.
Only then, many things had nothing to do with love. He only sings about his fear and panic.
Because once pure water is polluted, it will never become clean and transparent without impurities.
The wind is very strong, as if it had never happened, and there are too many memories. How to let go of your hand? I'm afraid you will say that those days that were blown by the wind tightened my heart in the middle of the night.
The child who once grew up alone on the guitar string has grown up, and his eyes are full of bright and painful love. So he couldn't help singing his broken but beautiful feelings to us. Confused children have their own thin and bright love. Then I think of the memories that have gone with the wind, the past that I can't touch, and the wounds that have scabbed in my heart.
And now he is like this cup of blue mountain coffee. It has a silky texture and a soft touch. Every sentence is warm enough. His love is so beautiful that he can sing it over and over again, as if he were possessed. His heart is completely immersed in the quagmire of love, unable to extricate himself, and does not want to extricate himself. Perhaps his persistence, like coffee beans, was once finely ground by a woman with slender fingers, bringing out the graceful feeling of aroma.
The real blue mountain is on an island, because it is rare and lonely. After having love, Pu Shu is still the talented but withdrawn man, only in a different way to communicate with us.
And the only thing we can do is to taste quietly.
Essay 4 of Monologue in the Deep Heart: Every morning the arrival of the sun indicates the beginning of a new day, and every night the wind will gather the temperature of the past day. Facing the morning sun and the night, I always fantasize. Think of time as water, which seems to flow quietly, but it makes the world ups and downs and ups and downs.
Looking at the things around us, people are born and die, and they often feel frustrated. Although I know this is inevitable, I can't let it go, and I don't want to believe that this world should not have such pain. I think, even if the world is a river rolling eastward, there should be a spring water flowing, and it should not be so cold.
Living in the world always smells like floating in the rivers and lakes, and there are too many things that cannot be controlled. When experience crosses the scale of life, I don't know how to interpret the meaning of life. Therefore, I often fly my thoughts alone in time, looking for space for my soul to fly, eager to go beyond some limitations and become a wise man. In the face of the red dust, even the cold river, I will catch a flying snow and write a meaningful chapter in my life.
I often find that living in a place for a long time will make me feel that many things have lost their original colors and many scenery are no longer beautiful. One day, when an old friend asks about the past, he will inevitably be a little nervous. Although the mouth answers lightly, the door of memory will open, and those bright colors and happiness will follow. I suddenly realized that some beautiful things are often overlooked by myself. In fact, they have never gone far, just within reach, or somewhere in my heart, but I have never noticed or found it. Think about it, many beautiful things in life may be missed and ignored like this!
On the road of life, age grows old with time. Looking back on the past, the troubled past washed away the bank of life like the tide, but some memories kept shining in life, like fireflies in midsummer, which obviously disappeared, but gave me courage and belief in facing reality in the bright flash. Although there have been sweetness and smiles, sadness and tears in the past, it is not enough for me to stop to regret and recall, because life will never stop moving forward, so my soul must move forward bravely.
Look at the bustling world, the four seasons cycle, every mainstream season will always have different thoughts, that is, these thoughts have been twisted into the main line of my life, closely intertwined, sewn into the coat of my soul, and made my own world. In this world, my thoughts are galloping, hoping to overcome some limitations and achieve some immortality in my life. But a person's world is inevitably narrow, so there are many gains and losses, many mistakes and many joys and sorrows in life. In fact, if you think about it carefully, this kind of life is particularly real and beautiful, which makes life full of mystery and Zen. It is because of these pains that my soul is no longer numb and decadent.
Some people say that the realm of life is a person's liberation and epiphany after enlightenment. Some people say that there is nothing else in life, and living is the great realm. I can't understand what is right and wrong, but I believe that mainstream thinking dominates people's lives, because I believe that mainstream thinking is the cornerstone of casting people's souls.
Looking through history, there is always one or several things that shock you. There is always one or several people's thoughts shining in the air, illuminating my life. It's like an old friend having a heart-to-heart conversation with me, which makes me familiar. So I was immersed in a different kind of emotion, and my heart was full of warmth and gratitude.
I have always believed that the color of a person's soul reflects the color of his life, just as I have always believed that there must be beauty beyond things in the snow world. Therefore, I often sketch a scene in my mind, a world of snow dancing. There is no noise, only the gentle wind blows, the mountains stretch into the distance in sight, and a river flows quietly from a distance. Although there are no waves, it shows the strange beauty of nature. In a corner of the river or a ferry, there is only one boat, and I am the only one fishing on the boat. At that time, I knew I didn't have the boldness and leisure of Jiang Ziya. What he catches is the realm of life, but what I catch is only a state of mind, maybe fish, maybe snow, because in a blink of an eye, I will enter this world and become a member of ordinary people.
I have always been a person who cares about the soul, so I pay too much attention to and outline purely detached things, just like thinking of a person in the dark. Maybe I can't meet you in this life, but I have reached my heart and will never forget it until I die. Just like in a crowded market, I suddenly melt into a look, a smile, and the instant warmth will forget the time.
In fact, even if the world is very cold, no one in the world can really touch anyone's heart, I would like to think so. As long as my soul passes by this world, then regret will become the dust of history with the undercurrent of the river and sink into the bottom of the river, waiting for the next reincarnation.
I have always believed that life without soul is cold, and he will inevitably miss a lot on the road of life. Therefore, in countless times of self-spiritual exile and gathering, there will always be a kind of happy pleasure, so I am eager to meet or meet another "me", in that world where the soul is flying. In a world or ferry, I will sit alone in a corner, catch a flying snowflake, let myself reach the depths of my soul in thousands of artistic conceptions, open the door of wisdom and release one brilliant tomorrow after another.
More than 50 years ago, a day when it was raining cats and dogs, my father died of illness, and all his cares and reluctance. Since then, father and relatives, live far apart; From then on, I only looked for the comfort of my father's love in front of the portrait and in painful memories; From then on, the two-winged birds in the sky, the mother's mind wandered lonely and lost, until she found you in heaven with you. At this moment, the tears I miss linger in my eyes again.
Father loves mountains! After losing my father, I can really feel that my father is my mountain and I am the pine or grass on it.
When I got the news of my father's death, I hurried home before dawn. When the car was a few hundred meters away from home, I stumbled and hurried off, completely forgetting my wife and young son behind me. I cried when I saw my father lying quietly on the door panel. I know that my father will never come back when he goes; I know my father must have gone to heaven in sickness and reluctance. Mother said: My father called my name when he died. Today, I still feel very sad when I think about it, and I burst into tears.
Hey, is there a deeper affection in the world than between father and son and mother and son?
The villagers said, go to the grave. Strangely, it was raining cats and dogs just now, and suddenly it cleared up. When my father was buried, it rained heavily again. The villagers said: this is an epiphany. Your father must be great there. I don't believe in superstition, but I really hope my father is in heaven: no disease, no poverty and a happy life!
According to the old people, the father was left for adoption. That year, my grandparents fled to this small town in the south of the Yangtze River. Grandma is holding one, and grandpa is carrying three in the laundry list. I really can't support it anymore. I left my boss and my father and was adopted by a landlord. I hate that heartless landlady. She always beat and scolded her father, even scalded him with red-hot tongs and watered him with boiling water. My father survived in pain and suffering. One eye was burned a little blind.
My father's earliest memory is a jacket lined with white plain cloth when I was in primary school. At that time, the primary school of the brigade had a literary propaganda team and a table tennis team, which often performed for farmers in the fields and villages, and the school often held table tennis competitions. I am a member of two teams, but I don't even have a decent jersey. I have to work for the production team during the day, and my father uses his evening time to help the production team in the neighboring village. Because of the low salary, no one in that team is willing to do it. Father knew and did it, and didn't come home until dawn every day for a whole week. I don't want to mention how happy I was when my mother put that white jacket on me. In the teacher's surprised eyes and the envious eyes of my classmates, my face has a brilliant light. When I learned from my mother that my father had worked hard to get a white jacket, my young heart shed sad tears! Later, whenever I had performances and competitions, my father would come and stand behind the crowd to watch; After that, my father took out a half-worn towel and wiped the sweat from my face and body for me. My father smiled and I smiled.
Now think about it, although my father is poor and illiterate, he is so kind and kind at heart.
I am in high school and go home once a week. When I go home every Saturday afternoon, there is always a bowl of fresh and delicious food. That's dad's week's preparation, leaving the best for the children to eat. I will never forget that Wednesday night, my father suddenly came to school and brought a big teapot with fish and meat in it. I was worried when I saw my father's face covered with sweat and mud. Father said, "Have you finished eating? This is for you. " . I was about to ask when my father said, "study hard." I left in a hurry. Later, I learned that it was my father who helped others and deliberately did not eat their sumptuous dinner; This family is very kind. They brought food home to their father and he gave it to me. Mom said: when dad came home, he almost fainted from hunger. It turns out that I always think my mother is very cautious, and my quiet father is also a very cautious person.
Now that I think about it, I have to bury my father's deep love in my heart. Only by holding back the tears in my heart will I move forward in the light of my father's love!
In my memory, my father is also a "cadre" in the village. At that time, village cadres were no different from ordinary people, but they did more and had great responsibilities. Although that era was poor, the brilliance of human nature was dazzling.
I remember once, the production team dug peanuts. I accidentally brought half a basket of peanuts home, and no one knew at that time. At that time, poverty was terrible, and half a basket of peanuts could be delicious for several days. When my father came home and saw it, he jumped on me and scolded me severely, asking me to send peanuts to the production team at once. He also said: this is a collective thing, everyone does, so didn't you take all the collective things away? Criticize how I read books, and my thoughts are so backward! When I handed peanuts to the production team, my father smiled. I saw my father's kind and honest smile! Although my father smiled sadly, there were tears to shed quietly, but the smile was so beautiful and atmospheric. Isn't this spirit exactly what our nation needs and lacks now?
Although my father is poor, he is a cheerful and loyal man. In the era of "going to the countryside", my family lived with scattered students. Father vacated the biggest and cleanest room and took our children to the footroom. It's interesting that this student was sent down: it's bitter and astringent to treat the newly grown wheat seedlings as leeks and cut them back to scramble eggs. While our children were laughing, my father quietly cut back leeks in the garden, gave some eggs to the scattered students and taught him how to fry eggs with leeks. You know, a few eggs at that time were going to a small shop to change oil and salt. As a result, our children didn't eat egg flowers that week. Later, the decentralized student returned to the city and became an official in the city. One day, this once-sent-to-school student went to my home to visit my father and paid for it. My father said to me: Live or do good things, and good people will be rewarded. Good people are rewarded. This secular belief or desire should be paved with a kind heart. As far as I can remember, my father has never been paid for helping his neighbors. In my father's words, it is: the next-door neighbor has no difficulties, and it is appropriate to help. Father has enough strength.
One day, my father suddenly had an unbearable stomachache. Let him go to the big hospital in the city. He won't go anyway. After several days of treatment, the country doctor's stomach swelled. Forced by the children, his father was admitted to a bigger hospital. After diagnosis, my father was not completely cured of schistosomiasis when he was young, which led to the rupture of the spleen and made two operations. Originally a thin father, his face was even haggard, his body was even thinner, and his actions were a little slow.
At that time, I just started working, and my father said he didn't want to spend a lot of money. Father said: Go home for treatment, because it can be cured at home. I know my father's heart is broken for money. Every time the doctor came to make rounds, my father asked not about his illness, but how much he spent. One day, my father simply ran out of the hospital. There's nothing I can do. My condition is a little better, and my father is out of the hospital. Since then, my father's illness and health have become my concern and heartache.
Father is still doing manual labor and busy all day. Every time I go home and see my father lose weight, I force him to rest. One day, my father was really angry: You want me to die, so let me die now! Father said: a person who is used to working is worse than being sick. The children had to let him do some leisure work in the hope that his father would get better gradually. I hope this mountain and spiritual pillar at home will not collapse.
Father's health is getting worse. Mom said, "Your father is going to have a grandson". That moment was the happiest time in my father's life! When the grandson really appeared in front of his father, his father's sallow face showed a bright smile and laughed! Father didn't kiss his grandson affectionately. Father said: I am sick, don't infect my grandson; Hold it far away and just watch.
My father shed tears, and I also shed tears. These are tears of pain and happiness! This is the most sincere and beautiful emotion in the world! This tear is more bitter than coptis chinensis and sweeter than honey!
My father left and finished his short 69-year life; My father is gone forever, wearing a straw hat and cloth shoes, reluctantly, with illness and torture. But the father's voice, smile and love will always be engraved in the child's heart, in the child's life track and in the child's blood.
May my father be healthy and happy in heaven! Your children will miss you forever!
The world is full of lies, but not every lie hides evil. Deception sometimes comes from a kind and loving heart.
In fact, everyone is equal before the truth, as long as you have enough patience and you are willing to see what is true before making a decision.
Freedom is not the ability to do whatever you want, but the ability to do nothing.
You want to know what is missing in a person's heart? Look at nothing but what he shows off. What do you want to know about a person's inferiority complex? Look at nothing but what he's hiding.
God has two dwellings, one in heaven and the other in the heart of the grateful.
Life is an excuse for losers, and luck is a modest word for winners.
Privacy, sharing with one person is a confidant, sharing with a group of people is a blog, and sharing with the whole country is an "artistic life".
There are two kinds of feelings between men and women, one is called caring for each other and the other is called forgetting each other in the rivers and lakes. Love those who can love, and forget those who can't.
If a person lives according to his own heart, he will either become a madman or a legend.
In countless dawns, dusk and late nights, how many painful processes have been performed, and those hardships and pains will be exchanged for the first encounter in this world.
Is it not good to fail? Every failure brings me one step closer to success. Successful people are always like this, constantly failing, constantly reflecting, repeatedly evolving, and ruminating into wisdom.
When many children grow up, they also begin to pursue the visible happiness, but forget the invisible, huge and simple happiness they had in their childhood.
Life is such a strange process. The more you chase, the more you lose.
Even if the sky is not appreciated, it will stay there forever ..... Although we have not done any great work that ordinary people think, although our work is so insignificant, we still have to look up at the sky. In order to remember it, in order not to be confused
Monologue prose in the depths of the soul 10 Moonlight shakes the shadow, and I plant the flowers of the soul in the moonlight. Think about the past days, years, flowers bloom and fall. Perhaps these flowers represent the soul in my body.
Looking back on the past, I smiled and lived simply, recalled lightly and told stories related to me lightly, in those days when I was above dust and carried away. The scenery along the way has gone. Whether beauty and sadness, regret and warmth, sadness and joy, are deeply or shallowly imprinted in the heart, forming a story situation.
A touch of gentle moonlight opened the door of my heart. All colors warmed in the moonlight, but my heart trembled in the wind.
Moonlight, like water, pours quietly in the bamboo forest surrounded by flowers and plants, and everything is covered with psychedelic colors. The soul is wandering in a green dream, but I don't know if this dream has a flowering period. Perhaps at some time in the years, the fragrance between flowers will be carefully treasured. Falling flowers are also an indispensable part of life, so we must accept the pain of life frankly.
Slightly cold rain, dripping off the green flag, wet my dress, but let me leave sober. Walking in time, I am still me, and nothing has changed, just like at the beginning, just like orchid flowers.
Why does the same story taste different to different people? Walking through the rain lane of the bamboo forest together, the story of sinking is so cold and desolate. Like a mess after a feast, a mess. When I think about it at this time, I can still feel the cold and lingering fear. But my story is as simple as that, as if the pure moonlight slipped through my heart and was warm. Pure and childlike. Flying in the depths of memory, like those flowers in the valley, blooming shyly.
Flowers, floating in the fresh and cool night, gather away the noise, exude a faint fragrance and taste the unique fragrance. Tell the same story, I just want to touch the real people.
Phoenix has been nirvana, and I am helpless in the face of that cold desolation. I was at a loss, and some of the good things I longed for suddenly passed away, losing their original flavor, leaving only some inexplicable and unwarranted fragments that became the pain that the soul could not touch. The memory is messy, so I can't precipitate the feelings of exile. The sky is still so blue and deep. At this moment, I just want to be beautiful and have a beautiful world. Tired, just take a nap in the deep bamboo rain pavilion, drink a cup of coffee and taste the joys and sorrows of the world.
practice Forget the world, plant a flower of the soul to water it, cultivate it purely, and wait silently for the spring flowers to bloom.