I often tell my deskmate that my birth was a mistake, but God played a big joke on me. What will parents think when they hear this sentence?
Since I was born, my father has regarded me as a pearl. I'm afraid of falling into my hand and melting in my mouth. When I was a child, he used to carry me to the zoo with camels. He often holds my hand and shuttles through toy stores; He likes to tell me phone stories to put me to sleep; When he is on a business trip, he always takes my favorite source with him. Male ... At that time, I was a princess, a rich princess. His love for me can be described as doting. He never bothers me even if I do something wrong.
He spoiled me for ten years.
God just likes to joke. He thought I had been happy for ten years too long, so he sent me to my hometown to live with my grandmother. The expulsion was seven years.
Seven years, long or short. Parents, we are always separated by a telephone line, and these seven years have created my diversified personality; You never know what you have experienced, what you have suffered, what you have suffered and what you have suffered in these seven years. You don't know what that feels like.
Time is unconscious, and the years are silent, always rendering the love that comes late when the leaves fall to the roots. I know, my father came back with my demands and expectations.
Seven years of telephone line care has turned into real communication. My father naively thought that I had a good life in these seven years, and I was sure that I was still the little girl when I was a child.
But I am no longer the child who relied on you in childhood; No longer call your child whenever there is pain; There is no need to ask your child any more questions; No ..... Not anymore. We are rusty. We had a fight. You don't trust me, you don't love me, you don't laugh.
I'm fed up with the nameless pot you gave me. After two days together, I said less than twenty words to you, but you said hundreds of words that bored me. Although I look bored, I know from my heart that your love for me has never changed. It's just that I have changed. My change urges you to change, and I won't hate you because of the injustice I suffered there. Because today's situation is caused by me.
Dad, you can't understand how I feel when I write these sentences, do you know? How tired I am now, I don't want to study, but I have to study; I don't want to go to school, but I have to go; I want to be quiet, but I can't. I want to cry, but I can't I want to rest, but I can't. I push myself every minute. I'm under a lot of pressure. I can't breathe. I don't want to disappoint you, but I am really tired.
At this moment, leaning against the heavy fence, watching the sleepy butterfly jump out of one last dance, the flowers tore up their bright coats with heartache, and the trees swayed the green leaves listlessly. I watched the green leaves sway from side to side, at a loss. At this time, I am like Shu, just standing in the same place, unable to pick up a fallen leaf and unable to save a trace of heartache. Finally, the sleepy butterfly was unable to dance, and the notes hooked by the fallen leaves in the air fell. He will rest under the snow with yellow leaves on his pillow. Will it have a dream as beautiful as autumn? ...
A misty rain brought a stranger home.
In a season of devoted love, I came back with a drizzle, and my eyes wandered around. The scenery in my hometown seemed like yesterday. And you, are you still waiting for me there?
Thinking is like a stubborn wind, longing for free travel, while the outside world is a beautiful picture book, and thinking is like the hand of the wind, which urgently needs to read the world of mortals that has been installed for a long time.
Leaves leaving the branches may be the bleakest scene in autumn, so the sound of dancing in the horn of the wind is probably a farewell sob.
I remember that the maple leaves were dyed red by acacia, and the sadness was locked up. Your exhortation lingers in my ears, making me feel like flying every minute, but I made up my mind in the face of temptation.
I know you won't complain. I know you always have an inclusive heart, so I am used to being paranoid and willful. On the drifting bamboo raft, I can't help but imagine you can stand side by side with me. However, the distant echo tells me that this time I walked away from you, and I finally lost your back.
I feel inexplicably lonely when I think of a person traveling in a stormy season. Honey, maybe it's really my fault this time, because I chose to leave. But my vanity encouraged me to wander all the way, my heart drifted with the wind, and my exiled youth indulged in the turmoil of the years.
In fact, the west window sings late, and the cold plum shadow is oblique. I once meditated on the fence, thinking about going to a thousand miles of smoke, full of wine and the warmth of the sunset. Memories are always an invisible sword, which is engraved in a weak heart and sometimes hurts beyond words. And my stubbornness doesn't allow me to look back with a smile, or to bask in the eyes of the Chun Xue-like sun in a dark corner. Therefore, a song that is beautiful to the tip of the tongue can only be reconciled with the strings in the heart.
Perhaps, I am really not brave enough, so weak that I don't even have the courage to say regret. I am so weak that I have put aside my expectation of going back to the past. I just use a wandering heart to talk to the stars at midnight and the moon moths, telling whose heart has a pair of wings to go home after the proverbs become prophecies.
Perhaps, tossing and turning, I have been used to seeing too much falsehood under the real coat and meanness under the cover of beauty. So the windward wings are so tired that they can't even bear the encouragement. I just want to glide down and find a safe place to live.
I miss your white and tender hands, smelling of cigarettes, scattered on the pillow, engraved on every pillar of memory, a clear word overflowing from your lips, with the graceful charm of the rain bell, floating on the ferry of my memory like dew in April. I think of your long brow, shrewd eyes and tall figure scattered in the morning light. That's all the kindness I'm familiar with, and I'm really afraid whether it has been stolen by time. At this moment, it suddenly became very strange.
I have been dormant for a cold winter, and now Chun Yan is whispering, the grass is growing, a love that consumes everything, and I have come back with misty rain. I was half covered by a peach blossom. I asked, where are the Iraqis?
A misty rain, once cold, a glimpse of architecture, a shadow of returning home. My eyes wander around, and my hometown remains the same. What about you? Are you still waiting for me there?
night
The night light is soft and leaks on the road.
There are several stars on the rainy road.
Give people safety and hope in the dark.
Silence, no crowds, no noisy laughter,
I can't remember how long it's been since I walked around alone.
Let your thoughts fly like this and float away. ...
Occasionally, several figures with umbrellas float across the cloud bridge.
Yixin Lake died like this, only reflecting countless lights and nothing else.
The moon observatory stared at the lake in isolation. ...
I was hit with an umbrella by the wind and rain,
Cold, cold, cold to the heart, opened my mind. ...
I want to know, at the end of time, will there be your thoughts?
When you give me the most occasional tenderness,
Will you give me that look, the most affectionate and confusing look?
Affection is a heavy burden that I can't bear, and love words are only occasional deception.
Maybe the accumulation of time is fatigue,
Maybe we are only occasionally blessed by the bird of destiny,
In the noisy world, approaching, approaching,
We have known each other for a long time, but we didn't talk when we met.
Became the most unfamiliar and familiar person.
Sometimes, do you miss me or me?
On the same night, it was just snowing.
At the same time, just a little more noise,
More similar, it is so cold!
The air is full of dignity,
An occasional laugh can't tear this silence apart,
At that time, I never thought that meeting you was the barrier of my life!
Tell me, do you really want to leave me?
How many songs did you only sing for me?
From that photo, those young years ...
It should rain, wash away the missed footprints,
There should be snow, wipe away the confusion on your face,
The stories of these years have no plot in my mind.
You always see through me and seldom come to me,
Is it because you have experienced too much, so you can't ripple?
So as to leave everything to time?
Or do you know that I value and am fearless?
And what I lost was time!
Maybe men like novelty,
Perhaps, giving up can be close to you and remind you of me.
Maybe, the promise is just because you are not sure.
Maybe there are too few plots between us, although we have known each other for a long time!
We-it's time to rehearse, our separated memories. ...
Paper rhyme hurts people
One:
Stand still, don't want to have words, don't want to have actions, don't want to have ideas. This is still the case, including the fetters of the wind. I just want to stand quietly, blank myself, forget existence, forget thoughts, forget memories, forget pain, forget joys and sorrows, forget thoughts ... everything will cease to exist and go back to before the chaos began. I don't have everything. There is nothing for me.
But tears can't fool the heart that wants to betray. In this sunny wilderness, the wind is also unscrupulous. Every time I brush a corner, I rush to leave my mark-whether those creatures like it or not. The owner of this space has become diverse and spicy, and everything exudes its own characteristics-madness and unruly hidden in the deep heart. Endure in a seemingly harmonious atmosphere, but no one wants to attack, just want to stick to themselves and defend themselves. Who seems to have nothing to do with who, just want to be independent in their own territory. I am in such a wilderness, I want to be the master of this diversity and spicy, let indifference or indifference make my soul, or I hope I have no soul. But the tears falling in the sun and the cold wind told me that it was impossible. Yes, that's impossible. I can't isolate myself, and I can't let everything isolate myself, because in my tears, white flowers are blooming, frozen in my field of vision and lingering. The dazzling Hua Guang didn't hurt my eyes, but it hurt my soul, and made me understand my existence and boundless love-I can't escape.
Yes, in this sea, I saw white flowers in full bloom-white flowers planted by myself.
This is a white flower full of my thoughts. On this flower, I have devoted all my beliefs and beliefs, as well as my most sincere and highest respect!
In fact, clothes, clothes like flowers, have the same beautiful charm and yearning as flowers!
Independent of that grave, I suddenly wanted to cry.
This small building, supported by stones and mud, is swaying with living grass in the sunshine and wind. Although it is late spring, this year's spring is not very bright and always shivering, so the grass on the grass has just sprouted and scattered, but it does not give people the feeling of failure, and there are fresh wings everywhere.
This is your home, a refuge you once wanted to have on earth.
I was just outside your house, but I couldn't find your house, so I wandered outside, immersed in the cold sunshine and wind.
Crying to you silently in my heart, I dare not touch the voice between my lips and teeth. The familiar but unfamiliar words hit my frozen heart and rolled in the thorns, making my lacrimal glands salty. I tried my best to endure it, because as you said, tears prove nothing, and I also said I wouldn't cry. I am afraid that the voice between my lips and teeth will shoot down our promise and make you cry where I can't see it.
So I pretended to be strong, stared at my heart coldly, and then drove it where it wanted to go.
Two:
-I suddenly remembered our eye contact. That time, I always thought it was your death. This is the only real silent conversation in our life. At that time, you held my hand tightly, and there was endless lingering in your eyes. I also keep a close eye on you, using a kind of fortitude to cover up my inner fear and sadness. You didn't speak, and I didn't speak. But I know what you're thinking and you know what I'm thinking. Because at the moment you let go of your hand, your warm eyes were relieved, but there was too much pity. I know that in your eyes, I will always be an immature bean sprout, always so weak, always relying on your generous shoulders and chest. However, I can't do this. I can't fix my vulnerability in your heart at the moment. I don't want you to go to that point of no return in anxiety. I want to tell you with my stubbornness and pride that even if I am a bean sprout, I am a copper bean tooth that cannot be crushed, chewed or broken! I want you to leave with pity, so that you can escort me exclusively without too many fetters. There are no tears in your eyes, but I felt your tears at the moment you lay down. I can only close my eyes and want to escape from my inner sadness in silent silence.
-I recall your lament when you died. I can't understand the meaning, but it shot down my dream that you can't see. No amount of calls can break your eternal silence after a short sigh. My sisters want me to keep calling you and look forward to your return, but even hysterical crying can't keep the rest of your body warm. I don't know what kind of world you entered, but you gave me a bleak cold, which froze everything and made me depressed in the world of Mu Na. Second sister covered your feet and whispered, you won't be cold, you will never be cold, you are warm. At this moment, I don't know whether my second sister and I are crying for you or for ourselves. However, no matter how sad, loud and tearful you are, you can't erase your sigh. Maybe that's the best gift you left me, so that I can always reflect on what I am and how I should write.
-I remember a day, a moment, and an era: the ugly year, the first month, the second day, Shihai, and the Spring Festival. It's a family day. Because fourth sister was late, it added a lot of sadness to you, no, to us. In this year, on this day, at this moment, you closed your eyes and looked at the vicissitudes of the world. How many memories have you left, two cokes, a bowl of powder, a bath ... they are still scars in my heart that can't heal. Mom always mentions those two cans of coke, and it's always hard not to cry, because this is the record that you broke for more than a year. That bowl of powder and a bath are my unfulfilled promises. I remember you smiled when I said it, but I didn't expect your dream to be empty. I don't know if you remember the moment you left, but I remember, I remember until now. Maybe you have forgotten, but how can I forget? Your smile is full of love, and I, my love, my love has been scarred and full of guilt and self-blame. I didn't finish my missing, which is the sorrow that breeds in the depths of my human nature.
There is another day: the ugly year, the first month, the twelfth and the morning. On that day, the drizzle washed away the accumulated dirt and moistened the dry soil, and everything recovered in silence and cleanliness. I didn't catch you in the end. You will leave eventually. You will set foot on that remote path, the journey you have already seen clearly, and then rest quietly. You should have a rest. You have worked hard all your life, but you haven't changed your happiness for a second. Is it worth it? It's time for you to have a rest and do what you have to do. The rest is left to the living and me. I don't want you to look at me sad. You'd better go a little further and really live the quiet life you deserve. ...
……
I threw myself on the ground and burst into tears. I don't care about any promises or strengths. All I know is that you should open your door, make my family happy, let me fall into your arms and make you cry. ...
-Dad!
Three:
I tidied up the clothes I sent you devoutly. You know, it's made of paper, white and bloody. You have done it for your parents. I don't want tears to stain the neatness of this dress. More importantly, I don't want you to feel that my heart is hurt by tears on my clothes. We all want a happy life, don't we?
I am quietly tidying up. This is a newly cut dress. I haven't opened it. Now, I want to open it. I'm going to tidy up. Please wait, don't worry. Due to years of hard work, your hands are not stretched neatly. I want to help you straighten out the wrinkles and stick them on your body. We can't make others laugh. We have to pay attention to the image, okay?
Fragments are scattered, which is the redundant part when cutting. Those tailors won't take advantage of us. You know, we won't take advantage of others, so others will treat us like this. This is what you often say to me, do you remember?
There are many fragments floating in front of your house, like a poem, living in our hearts.
I tidy up gently. It is still early. Are you still sleeping? I know you often can't sleep at night, most of the time because I come home late. Every time I see the lights on at home, I feel very warm and comfortable, knowing that the people who love me are still waiting for me to come back. Will you wait for me now? It won't happen again, will it? I tell you, I want to go home early now, because I don't want to keep my mother waiting for you. You know, she can't stay up late. You may be waiting, because I feel this way, or I occasionally break my word and be late, but the light at home is still on, and I feel that you are waiting for me. Are you really waiting for me? You can't wait for my arrival, so don't wait. I know, I will be sad, and I don't want to let you down. You should rest more now and have a good rest. In this way, with enough sleep, my body will not get worse, my head will not get dizzy, my chest will not get stuffy, my feet will not get cold ... you didn't take good care of yourself, and I didn't take good care of you. But now, you must take good care of yourself and live a healthy and happy life. You have to promise me.
I packed it. Put it on. I'm sad, I can only send you clothes once a year, and I can only put on your new shirt once a year. So, I must be careful.
I knelt down for you, as your birthday, anyway, your birthday is in this period, today, right? Drink this longevity wine, and you will live longer. ...
I just want to kneel for a long time, just to wait for you to pull me up and say to me, son, I am so happy with you!
Head down, the sun and wind blow everything dry, but they can't blow the world in front of me. There are crystal lights flashing, which is our eternal love!
Four:
I brought my son.
My promise to you is to be realistic. My son will call grandpa, he is calling you, do you hear?
He asked me to kowtow to you. He looked, and he said, come again, come again, come again. I listened to his words and acted according to his instructions.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. ...
My son and I were tied together. The little guy is very temperamental. If I come to find one, he will come to find one, no more, no less.
Who is this? He asked me.
Your grandfather.
What grandpa?
Your dad's dad!
oh
He understood. Just like he knew my mother was his grandmother.
He was happy, but he was still a little disappointed. I know he must be thinking, dad's mother saw it, but why didn't dad's father come out to meet himself?
What is this?
The little guy suddenly looked up at me and pointed to something on the back of his hand.
What I see is a glittering and translucent light!
I am praying: he misses you, you must take good care of him, he is our hope!
Five:
I'm leaving.
Far away, I saw the dancing of paper clothes.
Snow-white paper clothes and flower-like clothes have the same beautiful charm and yearning as flowers!
I'll wear it for you once a year, once a year.
I am bitter.
But you should be happy, because you have not reached such a well-off level before. It's always once every few years, once every few years. Unlike me, it is new every year.
I am still good to you, and it is new every year!
Paper clothes are still dancing, snow-white paper clothes, flower-like clothes, with flower-like beauty and yearning!
I'm leaving, you should take care!
Once a year, once a year, today next year, I will come again and bring you the same paper clothes as today.
Snow-white paper clothes and flower-like clothes have the same beautiful charm and yearning as flowers!
……
The sun remains the same, the wind remains the same, and the master of diversity remains the same.
I don't want to be the same again.
Looking at the paper clothes-white paper clothes, flower-like clothes, with the same beautiful charm and yearning as flowers-I didn't suppress myself, but my tears were unbridled. ...
Mottled years, missing my hometown
It's been a long time since I sat quietly in front of the computer and wrote an article. For some reason, I have gradually moved away from the virtual network. Except for the computer that I use for busy work every day, I no longer want it. Perhaps it is the cause of cervical pain!
Time flies like water. In a blink of an eye, the year has come with the taste of time, and people who buy new year's goods are filled with infinite feelings, and a feeling of homesickness arises spontaneously.
In my hometown, the flute in Qingyuan in Xi Murong's poems always rings with the moon at night. Hometown, Yu Guangzhong's narrow boat tickets are always calling distant wanderers home. Living in a colorful city every day, I only see many people, many cars and many buildings. No matter how good it is here, it can't compare with the folks in my hometown. No matter how beautiful it is here, it can't compare with the harvest scenery in my hometown. The beautiful scenery of my hometown speaks my mind.
In my spare time, the image of my hometown during the Spring Festival is displayed in front of my eyes. Killing pigs, making tofu and steaming sticky bean bags are necessary before the Spring Festival. What I remember more is that during the Chinese New Year, my mother always wore an apron and cooked jiaozi in front of the pot. Father hangs red lanterns high, and red couplets are posted on doors and windows, even on pigsty and chicken rack. In the yard, my friends and I are in groups. On New Year's Eve, my mother always puts a few cents in my sister's pocket and mine. This is our lucky money.
Time is running out, and as time goes by, we are getting old. Year after year, generations of people, their parents have long since left me, and I have become the mother of my children. Seeing the children grow up, I miss my parents more. They made me who I am today with hard work and sweat.
Go back to your hometown to see! How many times did my sister call me, yes; It's time to go back and see. There are my relatives, my sister when I was a child, my teachers and classmates, and my students. I am eager to go back, but I can't leave my job to realize my wish. Going back to my hometown is just my yearning.
Hometown, my dream home, hometown, is the other shore where the wanderer stops, where there is a kind of concern that can cross the Qian Shan; There is a kind of sadness that can engrave the cycle of the sun and the moon. Even in the cold winter, that warmth can melt the ice and snow; Love, even in the desert, can make flowers brilliant.
Seeing the red blessing hanging on the wall of the shopping mall, my eyes seemed to see the simple folks in my hometown. Their faces are always the most beautiful. My hometown, you will always be my miss.
Time is not over, the years are still going on. For the sake of our life and career, it is doomed that we will not stand still, travel far and leave our hometown, but we will never forget the hometown born in our hearts. The best way is at your feet, and the most beautiful scenery is ahead. Welcome the new year with a relaxed mood.
There is a mood called anxious to return; There is a yearning, called looking through autumn water; There is an expectation, which is the call of relatives separated by mountains and water; There is a deep affection, that is, attachment to hometown; I have traveled all over Qian Shan, only my hometown has the most beautiful scenery, and I have tasted all kinds of tastes of life. Family and friendship in my hometown are the warmest. I want to write a fiery poem for my hometown, and wish my hometown a better tomorrow!
Ask when the sky is old and when love dies. I have a Qian Qian knot in my heart.
The breeze was blowing gently and the drizzle continued, which triggered a flower party. The meeting between flowers, although only a glimpse, has already formed a dusty edge. Since then, the years have passed in a hurry like water, but my heart has been stranded in a little affection and gradually deserted. Even a love that consumes everything is swaying with a little bitterness. Looking at your beautiful face through the secular dust, you can write a paragraph of flowers and plants with pen and ink.
The fate of dust is like a dream, the years are like a song, splashing a graceful melancholy, and how much love is carried by ten feet of red dust. Looking at the night sky through the window, there is a crescent moon with plain paper dyed with ink. How can I complain about the long lovesickness, the curling cigarette and the endless love? Sleeping on the curtain of dreams and the shoulders of rain and dew, I would like to hold a plain pen and sing beautiful songs for you.
At the beginning of the vicissitudes of life, I understood the warmth that once crossed time in my life. You are gentle, elegant and gorgeous, and my plain face is not worth the rolling world of mortals. Fade away from prosperity, regain simplicity in tranquility, and cultivate a proud face in a quiet place. Carry a wisp of breeze, research a wisp of pen and ink fragrance, full of indifference, and interpret the massiness in life.
Who cast a ripple in my heart lake? From then on, you are my persistent concern, and I always believe that if the hearts are connected, the horizon is close at hand. Time flies, we have missed too much, and I will cherish the road we have traveled together. I don't care about it, and I don't want to live forever. I only hope that when we are white-haired, you will remember that you once had this warmth.
I long for the purest sincerity. I long for an outstretched hand to shake hands with my fingers. I like to look at each other. If I can, I would like to play a song of mountains and rivers. The sound of the piano is ethereal and gentle, and I will make love with it. You know I know myself. From then on, I was calm, my heart was warm and fresh, I laughed at the prosperity of the world, my words were fleeting, and I wanted to have a rest.
The fragrance we walked together was soaked with a few wisps of ink and covered with the quiet beauty of the years. Those interdependent pasts are warm in the passing time, and those poems that melt into life light up the journey of life. The days of missing make time intoxicated, and if the heart follows, love will depend on each other. Looking back, love has been immersed in the fleeting time.
The years wander like this, looking for the warm moments of the past. Travel through time and space, gently touch the ink, sprinkle some euphemisms, and the landscape will be unforgettable. You have been to my world, and its prosperity is amazing. Flowers bloom not for the whole city, just for you to sway in the spring breeze, just for you to watch quietly in the red dust.
Wander in the standard space with a cool attitude, put your mood in the depths of the years, taste joys and sorrows with a sensitive heart, and record the dribs and drabs of life with a pen. Only words can perfectly interpret what you think. Those happy, sad and calm days are slowly flowing at your fingertips.
I am also immersed in the elegance of Tang poetry and Song poetry, and I am also immersed in plain dancing and singing. I felt the loneliness after prosperity with a soft heart and read the beauty in my memory. Since then, I have returned to peace, and I have never been homesick or haggard. Since then, I have no surprises. The love that passed by, whose heart and feelings were hurt, bloomed silently in time and faded quietly in years.
The feelings in the world often can't stand scrutiny. Who can get rid of the fetters of fate and ask when heaven will be old and love will die? I have a Qian Qian knot in my heart.