When I was a child, I liked laughing very much. When others are bored, they can also make me laugh my head off. That clean, crisp laughter, now I think of it without restraint. My childhood friends always said that my laughter was as crisp as the sweet sound of chewing beans and jumped into people's hearts without any cover. In contrast, the laughter that has grown up now always makes people feel that something is missing, but more is helpless. When I was a child, I often spent a day origami. A simple piece of paper seems to be enchanted in my hands and can transform many different patterns. The paper plane carries my dreams high into the sky, the paper boat carries my cheers and sails far away, and the paper stars are stored in the bottle of memory, shining with dazzling light forever. The softest part of the soul that can be touched by memory may be a yellow photo, a familiar ballad, a childlike story or a deja vu scene. Oh, those days when the stars were put into nursery rhymes, those days when dandelions danced into dreams, those days when the tidbits of morning glory were hidden in memory, and those days when light paper boats floated into the distance, unforgettable!
Bai said: "When you go to any stage of your life, you should like that period of time, complete the duties of that stage, let nature take its course, don't indulge in the past, and don't look forward to the future enthusiastically. Life is like this. No matter what kind of struggles and challenges we are experiencing, maybe we have only one choice: be happy despite the pain and believe in the future. " The floodgate of life is still open, and the sloping flood is gone forever. The glass ball of my childhood is gone, but it condenses my happiness. Colorful glass balls collide with each other, knocking out my happiness and sparks in my heart. Under the summer night sky, I used to lean on the morning glory stand, look up at the stars in the sky, listen to my grandmother's story about the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, wait naively under the morning glory stand, eavesdrop on the whispers of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl on the seventh night of July, and count the stars tirelessly ... Everything seems to be calm on the way, but some things still live in the days, just like the lotus flowers in the pond until they bloom. In fact, the day is a flower, and people are just butterflies on the flower. The ups and downs are controlled by the seasons, and he can spread his wings among flowers for only a few years.
I always like to walk in front of the sun on a sunny day, sticking out my five fingers and letting the sun shine through my fingers. At this moment, the world is quiet, my heart is quiet, and a sense of satisfaction fills my heart. Back to that moment, the years were silent and scary, and the dead vines grew branches. It turns out that time goes by gently, just because I am too young, so all the joys and sorrows are so profound and earth-shattering. The years are whispering, and I am listening quietly. Life is a process of sharpening vicissitudes. Every ordinary touch in life is a wonderful process. Spring has its amorous feelings, and winter has its elegance, ups and downs, joys and sorrows, love and hate. In fact, the result is not important, what matters is all the bits and pieces accumulated in this life, as well as the bitter or sweet past moments left by Ming.
Days passed day by day, and things changed between noise and silence. I opened my sleepy eyes and bathed in the sunshine. The soft and warm feeling made my heart sink into my heart. Time doesn't ask who agrees or disagrees, just like a pawn shop. I'll set a price for your soft goods, and you can only accept it. If I can, I would also like to cultivate into a converted bird in my days, put on Buddhist clothes, spend my time on flowers, and let the fine flowers smoke the days into pearl jadeite. In front of the mirror, I showed a quiet smile, with a strong taste of happiness, as if accompanied by a bunch of lilies, gently rubbed into my heart, leaving a faint fragrance. Looking for childhood memories, memories take root and sprout under my feet, and I walk forward with a tearful smile. I can't forget that tearful smile when I recall it. It is the truth in my dream, and it is also the dream in reality. I won't finish my prose in tears. I looked up and smiled and walked on the paved road of my childhood. Tears dripped down and soaked my childhood memories. It suddenly occurred to me that I used to grow up foolishly, eager to put wings on my mind when I grew up. Now, when the dream of traveling around the world really comes true, I find that my desire gradually fades away. Standing in the long river of years, I lost simplicity and pleasure.
Childhood, that's all. Slowly fade away and never come back, like a silent sky, across a meteor, beautiful and short. Looking back suddenly, my childhood is still colorful. Looking up, the front is bright. Yes, happiness is like this. You know how to be satisfied in a simple life and stick to the pursuit of dreams in your life journey. God gave me a ray of sunshine, I am grateful, grateful, and return with a warm smile. Life is actually a rolled-up picture, but time unfolds it in front of us. There are mountains and water. Only by opening our eyes of wisdom can we appreciate the grandeur of mountains and the softness of water. Plain days are a river that flows quietly every day. Plain days are like a boat, carrying the dreams of childhood and the songs of teenagers, and also carrying the dying middle-aged and harvest all the way.