Lonely and Sad Essays: Lonely Dancer
The night is cold and fragrant, and it is too strong to melt. Staring, speechless, empty is speechless, standing on the edge of this bustling place. At the moment when the wind blows, the lights are crystal clear as tears. The shadow of the moon is sad, and the dew is scattered. Who leans on the small aperture? Accompanied by Guqin, a soft and sad song slowly flowed out. Lonely silhouette, if you cut your shoulders into pieces, looks like cicada wings and shadows, revealing a graceful neck and clearly visible clavicle. The pleats of the skirt flow lightly on the ground like snow and moonlight. It is more than three feet long. The spirit like water seems to come from a dream.
Music is clear in the ear, like the water in the south of the Yangtze River, flowing slowly. Lonely Mars, with light lotus steps, dances in the empty moonlight. Sometimes the wrist is raised, the eyebrows are lowered, and sometimes Shu Yun's hands are light. Folding fan in hand, like a wonderful pen, like a string, like a light Yun Zheyue, like the wind. Just like the saying, "When the snow floats, it is light, and when the clouds drag, they live." The state can't be bad.
With the sharp and high-pitched sound of the piano, the flowing footsteps keep spinning. Lightweight dancing shoes fly to the top of your heart and dance on your heart. How much like that sentence, "only worry about not catching it, fly away to catch the surprise." Veil dancing, cheerful dancing, charming posture and variety, such as lotus blooming, flying like a dragon. Dance to the top of your heart, dance to the clouds, dance to forget Sichuan, and let your heart fly. Let's dance in skirts and break our souls.
A gust of wind, Shen Zhu's tears, dripping into your heart, are there any traces? Looking at the bustling place from a distance, who is the lonely eye idol? Can an empty lamp become prosperity in a dream? Why is this bustling tone so melancholy and empty? Lonely questions beat her heart, and a person's dance steps were lonely and lonely. Spinning in the dark, intoxicated in the neon, lost in the projection. Hide your thoughts behind loneliness and dance in loneliness.
The past in the silhouette gradually became dusty and pale. Eyebrows used to be green. Who remembers the hurried time in the mirror? Deep love, in your heart. He said there was a sea in her heart that he couldn't see through. He doesn't know that it may not be her, but it may not be just her. In his eyes, she also saw Wang Yang. Maybe life is a pile of mistakes, a play begins and a play ends.
She is a lonely dancer, like a ghost who can only walk alone in her heart, listening to a classical moonlight.
Prose 2 is about writing lonely and sad prose: the more you grow up, the more lonely you become.
Allow me to be depressed in space once, this is not the first time, and certainly not the last time. How long has it been since I kept a diary? I seem to have forgotten what kind of emotions I need to write a space diary, and how short words can express that kind of inner touch.
It has been more than a year and a half since I came to Huaihua, and the city is still dressed with familiarity and strangeness. The breath has slowly settled down from the initial sunrise. Once for all the boiling heart cooling again. It seems that the desire to enter the university and the pursuit after entering the university have long been erased by the environment.
I have always been enthusiastic about activities, friends, study seriously, refuse to be isolated, try to make more friends, and be conscientious about other things. Anyway, I already have a lot.
What about now? There seems to be nothing, just like an fried egg, which is no longer so delicious after cooling off. Some people can't change their living environment, they can only adapt to it and survive. But this way of life seems too unreasonable. No group, no partner, no sense of harmony.
I really like listening to that song "The more I grow up, the more lonely I am". Indeed, when I grow up, I no longer have that kind of innocence and cuteness. I look forward to having a neighbor next door 24 hours a day, and I will go down the pond with them in my dream. Quarrel today, laugh tomorrow, cry today and hug tomorrow.
I still remember the teacher once said: "Brothers who made friends in primary school and junior high school will not be so deep in the future. The most unforgettable thing is that in high school and university, they are the most sensible and have the most correct grasp of feelings. " Everything seems to happen to us as usual like the teacher's trajectory.
But later we learned that the feeling at that time was so real, eager and carefree, and we would not worry about our feelings, nor be afraid of the gains and losses of our friends. A candy and a toy will spoil another friend. What about now? It is the yearning for a friendship, only to find that few people will be like you, only to find that there are so few like-minded people, and you can only grow up and be lonely.
Writing a Lonely and Sad Essay III: Memory is a broken loneliness. Maybe one day I will stop on a dead tree covered with yellow leaves and miss someone leisurely for a quiet time. With the bitterness of growing up and the loneliness of youth, I will go on without hesitation.
Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.
On the day when the flowers bloom, there are butterflies, faint fragrance, your flowery smile and a scene of endless flowers.
I am a flower, different from others, with endless flowers and unbeatable flowers. I create flowers that never wither and never fade, and extend them to every place, every corner and every sensitive heart at will. Gradually slow down, shallow fragrance, draw a silent flower.
Youth is like a slightly longer song. Meeting different people at different times is fate. For thousands of people in Qian Qian, finding the people they care about most is a rare preference. No matter what the result is, they still don't hesitate.
In the moonlight, as if nothing had happened, a corner was missing, one east and one west, scattered in every corner.
Perhaps scattered memories are full of loneliness. The music has stopped, and the dream should wake up. I found that my memory was already broken after being trampled by time.
Meteors are shining in the dark. Broken memories, do you feel lonely, should you cry, or tell yourself strongly that lonely people should not cry, even if the night is dark, you should create light.
Those fragmented memories, vivid and paranoid in my mind, have become an uncontrollable cloud when I reach out. Youth, I have to let go.
Flowers will fade, dreams will wake up, lovers will leave, and memories will be broken. What we can do is to face it calmly and let go helplessly.
Maybe one day, flowers are no longer dreams, and my memory is no longer incomplete. I will suddenly miss that lonely time, and I will go on with the bitterness of growing up and the loneliness of youth.
In my dream, I saw the moon, and there was a quiet light in the moonlight. The village was dark, with flowers in full bloom, melodious flute and quiet mountains and rivers.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, a souvenir of death.
Memory is in a trance, not necessarily clear, but the time of a song can be summarized. Didi loneliness is a human heart, not a memory. Only rely on the heart to remember with loneliness.
Memories are broken. Although I look back on loneliness, I am young. I firmly believe that I have passed, and youth will always be there, because there are flowers.
Writing Lonely and Sad Essays Part III: Loneliness is my enjoyment.
In the middle of the night, a person was lying in bed, and there was silence everywhere. There is a sense of loneliness that crawls to my heart like a reptile, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Get up gently, put on headphones to listen to music, and open the book.
I have read such a sentence: there is a feeling called helplessness, and there is a beauty called loneliness. For those who can't stand loneliness, loneliness is terrible and frightening. For me, loneliness is the beginning of a successful life, a kind of quiet beauty, no noise, no prosperity, enjoying one's happiness alone in silence.
You see, an old man in Liu Zongyuan's works is fishing by the cold river-the snow is lonely. On the snowy river, a boat and an old fisherman were fishing alone in the cold river. There is such purity and silence between heaven and earth that he is the only one who conspires with everything. Spotless and silent. This lofty and aloof fisherman is a true portrayal of Liu Zongyuan's lofty and aloof feelings between mountains and rivers when he was politically frustrated and depressed. His seclusion is too lonely, too deserted, and there is no smell of human fireworks.
In fact, everyone has a loneliness that others can't understand and can't extricate themselves. Only a lot of times, this kind of loneliness will always be blinded by the noise around, resulting in the illusion of prosperity. As everyone knows, ignoring this loneliness, in a sense, we are not really alive. Maybe we should learn to enjoy loneliness. Only when you are lonely can you hear your heartbeat and breathe, and you can find yourself lost.
Unconsciously, I also like loneliness. My loneliness has nothing to do with romance and depression. It smells like fireworks and is just a kind of joy when I am alone.
I like being lonely, not talking to anyone, and doing what I like quietly. Mind and body wander, temporarily forget the complexity of "rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar and tea" and experience the elegance of "piano, chess, calligraphy and painting"; Temporarily put aside the busy rush of fame and fortune and feel the peace and indifference without distractions; Get rid of the joys and sorrows that temporarily plague you and appreciate the fullness and peace in life.
Therefore, experiencing loneliness and feeling loneliness is the best leisure. The body can rest in loneliness. Heavy physical strength and overwork make the body need a timely loneliness to recuperate. The soul can find a rare peace in loneliness, no longer worry about the deception and struggle in life, no longer be suppressed by the burden of daily life, but find a suitable way to adjust the mood in loneliness, so that the mood has a unique enjoyment in loneliness.
The highest cultivation of loneliness is nothing more than creating in loneliness, or reading ancient and modern times, writing about your feelings and all kinds of flowers and plants. More lonely happiness, less inaction waste, let life be spent in creative loneliness, so that every minute of life will not be wasted. With everything in loneliness, you will feel that you are not lonely at all. Then, you will understand that the happiest person in the world is the one who can truly have loneliness.
Yes, that's how I enjoy loneliness. Because, I am only the most humble grass in the world, quiet is my posture, indifference is my state of mind, and loneliness is my enjoyment.
Loneliness is a realm, which embodies a person's hidden energy; Loneliness is a blind treasure, which contains noble feelings and pursuits; Loneliness is a kind of burning, and its brilliant flame gives people warmth and strength; Loneliness is a kind of love, because people without love will not be lonely.
Essay 4 Write a lonely and sad essay: Homesickness is the most beautiful flower in the depths of the soul.
Homesickness is a heavy love. Wanderers who leave their homeland silently keep their love in their hearts. Working hard in a foreign land, I feel extremely lonely, facing the reinforced concrete of the city and those who can never talk with it, and my heart is full of melancholy. When I am lonely, I can't help but feel sweet and sour ripples when I think of the moonlight in the lotus pond, the smoke from my hometown, my parents with wrinkles on my face, the clear river in my hometown and my childhood playmates.
Homesickness is a kind of deep love. Think of a poem by Yu Guangzhong: When I was a child//Homesickness was a small stamp//I was here//My mother was there//When I grew up, I was here//The bride was there//Later//Homesickness was a short grave//I was outside//My mother was inside//Now it's homesickness again. Homesickness carries the wandering heart, spoony feelings, deep love and expectation.
Caring for mother is the strongest love in homesickness. I think of my mother's long black hair when she was young, and there is a familiar fragrance in her hair. When I was a child, the wanderer often snuggled up to his mother and listened to her stories about the river god. For a wanderer, a mother is a river, clear eyes, abundant milk and lasting love for herself. A mother's love is like water, and he is like grass by the river. From small to large, the mother river constantly moistened him and accompanied him to grow up.
Caring for father is the deepest love in homesickness. Father, always unsmiling. In the eyes of wanderers, what I see most is often the back of my father's stalwart. My father's back is as tall as a mountain. When I was a child, I used to lie on my father's back and feel the warmth on his back. My father loves a mountain. He silently guards his mother, the wanderer and this warm and harmonious home. The back of my father is always engraved in the heart of the wanderer. No matter how years erode his memory, the familiar figure will never be forgotten.
Caring for grandpa is the most amiable love in homesickness. In addition to parents, grandpa is a relative who occupies the memory of the wanderer. Grandpa has white hair and wrinkled forehead. He always smokes, and when he smokes, he makes a "click" sound. Grandpa often fishes by the river, and the wanderer always sits next to him, watching him concentrate on waiting for the fish to bite. The happiest thing is that grandpa caught a big basket of fish, which is the most abundant dinner for wanderers.
Caring for grandma is the tenderest love in homesickness. Grandma has a neat and supple white hair, full of heaven, gentle and kind. Grandma is good at weaving and making shoes. Grandma's clothes are the most suitable clothes in the world, and grandma's shoes are the strongest shoes in the world. Wanderers have a special feeling for grandma. He is the one who hurts grandma the most. Grandma's smile, like the sun in the sky, is always so brilliant. Grandma's smile melted into the wandering heart. Whenever he is unhappy, grandma's smile is his band-aid.
Caring for your wife is the softest love in homesickness. The wife is gentle as water, gentle and virtuous. The wife's smile is the warmest and most beautiful smile in the world. The wife has a pair of big talking eyes and fair skin. Her smile, like a flower, blooms in a wandering heart. My wife's voice is sweet and moving, and wanderers like to listen to her singing best. My wife is a good cook. Wanderers like her cold noodles and Mapo tofu best. When he came to this city, whenever he was lonely, his wife's voice and smile always appeared in his mind.
Caring for your daughter is the kindest love in homesickness. My daughter looks like a red apple, blushing a little, and her milk is angry. Whenever a wanderer returns to his hometown, his lovely daughter is always the first to come out to meet him. Although her daughter is young, she is very caring and sensible. Whenever the wanderer returns to his hometown, she will prepare a razor to shave him, bring him a cup of warm water, put a basin of hot water, help him wash his feet, and serve him the most delicious dishes when eating. Daughter's cuteness and cleverness are the greatest comfort to wanderers who work far away from home.
Caring about hometown is the most difficult love to give up in homesickness. The rivers in the mountains are so rich and clear. When I was a child, vagrants often swam in the river and often played in it. The springs of mountains and rivers are so sweet and delicious; Spring in the mountains is so vibrant and colorful; In summer in the mountains, the sun is shining, birds are singing and flowers are fragrant; Autumn in the mountains is the harvest season; In winter in the mountains, although it is snowing heavily, the cold plums make the wanderer full of hope for the coming year.
Homesickness is an unspeakable love, a complex emotion, and a deep yearning and attachment to hometown and relatives. A wanderer far away from home, for the sake of his family's livelihood, had to walk into a city he was not familiar with, where he worked hard and suffered from missing. Perhaps, he did not have lofty ambitions, but insisted on doing a vigorous career in a foreign land; Maybe he has no intention of camping in this city. Because in his mind, it is his greatest wish in this life to go home to reunite with his parents, wife and children, to be filial to his parents and to raise their children.
Homesickness is the most beautiful flower in my heart. It is a fragrant jasmine flower, bearing tender maternal love; It is a golden sunflower, promising a heavy fatherly love; It is the morning glory in the rain, bearing the unknown waiting for it from generation to generation; That is the lotus after the rain, bearing deep concern for his wife; It is a tulip in the sun, bearing a strong yearning for her daughter; It's the wild chrysanthemum in spring. Although ordinary, it carries the wanderer's deep yearning for his homeland.
Writing Lonely and Sad Essay 5: Out of Loneliness
Want to be quiet, then a person strolled into the yard, hoping to resolve the leisurely mood in the moonlight. However, this night, there is no moonlight like water.
I picked up a pen and wanted to write something, but I was confused and empty for many nights. Mechanically fold a piece of white paper into a ship without sails, and I don't know when and where is the ideal shore? I have to stare at the swaying lilac trees in the yard, and I am getting more and more lonely.
Youth is helpless, guarding a loneliness, depicting a light blue dream, unable to stop being awakened by a burst of boredom. Quietly stepped onto the stands of youth, only to find that only loneliness and monotonous repetition remained.
I don't know when I started, but I learned to keep all my helplessness and unhappiness in my heart. I always want to go my own way quietly, regardless of other people's comments, but I dare not express my personality boldly; I always want to secretly wipe my tears alone, instead of begging for sympathy from others, but I can't stop being lonely and desolate. In spring, the wind is too fierce, and in autumn, the rain is too urgent and too cold. Throughout the year, life is cautious and exhausted.
Is that the orange light in the room through the curtain? It is a warm and hazy poem, poetic as the bright moonlight. Unconsciously arouse a feeling of deja vu, look up at the sky and see the moonlight, and the night is still as cold as water. But just moonlight? Moonlight is a kind of light? I realized that the power to transcend everything and master everything lies in myself.
Really, sometimes I am really smart, thinking that if I lock myself up, I will taste a lonely fragrance; I think, if I get rid of the noise of the world, I will have an extraordinary spirituality. In fact, all self-esteem is just a net woven by loneliness, not for others, but for yourself.
Sometimes, I often confine myself to a narrow space before I realize that the feeling of loneliness is not all beautiful; Sometimes, it is often after a long walk that we realize the beauty of real life. Therefore, there is an unspeakable desire, eager to get out of the limitations of self and eager to enter the circle of friends. Then, I can't help but think of a sentence: "It's not that spring is too cold, but that you are too far away from spring."