Prose recitation of passers-by in Beilin Part I: On the Road Author: Passers-by in Beilin
My heart always seems to be looking into the distance. I don't know what is in the distance, which is what I must seek in my life. Yearning again and again, traveling again and again, putting dreams and fantasies on the road again and again.
Last night, I saw another auspicious cloud in my dream. It is like my white skirt, spinning and dancing in the light blue sky. I seem to be standing in a huge canopy, and my soul is instantly washed clear and transparent.
After waking up, I saw clouds really floating in the clear sky. The city has not seen blue sky and white clouds for a long time. Recently, I suddenly found that there were many beautiful clouds in the sky after the rain. I don't know whether the city is returning to nature or the people who want to return to nature are changing the city.
When I look up at the sky, I know my heart is eager to travel again.
When I am quiet, I often feel that I have been forgotten by time, as if I had been abandoned by the season, by the crowd and by nature. Solidified life is like a pool of stagnant water, standing in the middle of stagnant water, and I, like a melancholy flower, bloom alone.
In fact, walking is not just for scenery, all scenery is just the scene behind people's hearts.
Then, with what kind of heart does everyone who chooses to travel far embark on the journey?
Dwelling in the city, there is always a potential emotion, which is suppressed, like a seed buried in the soil, longing for fresh air and fresh mood.
When I lie prone on the windowsill and look into the distance again, my heart seems to be pulled by an invisible force. Where my eyes can't reach, there is always a temptation beckoning to me. I wonder if it's a dream, hope or belief buried in my heart?
I always feel that I have lost something, and I always feel that I am looking for something. If we say,
Every lonely soul has a direction to return to. So, do we just walk to find it?
A friend told me that a child who returns to the nature of heaven and earth can find the feeling of harmony between man and nature when he is completely integrated with the nature of heaven and earth.
I am a mortal, and my heart is full of distractions. I can't devote myself to nature and feel the harmony between man and nature. But I know that when I am independent of the wilderness, when I wander with the boundless grassland, when I stand on the plateau very close to the sky and the earth, my heart will not be disturbed by other thoughts, and I will be integrated with the sky and the earth in my perception.
On the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, I have seen worshippers, who measure the distance under their feet with their own bodies. That kind of pious posture, that kind of holy soul that is not disturbed by outside eyes, gave me unforgettable memories.
Every time I think of that scene, I am not only moved, but also has an unspeakable pain, as if there is a sacred aura hanging over my head in an instant. A person who has lost his faith, who can't find his way in the world of mortals, is so humble and insignificant in front of such a soul. Those who worship, their lives are not as prosperous as ours, but their spiritual world is much richer than ours.
Nature is God's child, and it is God who gives life the most pious worship. Mountains, water, open grasslands, desolate land, boundless sea and dense forests can purify this heart. Where the sky is near and the clouds are far away, people will stay away from vanity and greed.
I believe everyone has a holy soul, but this soul is corroded beyond recognition by desire in a materialistic city. If life is a lonely search process, then we keep walking and running, are we all looking for a temple for our souls?
Countless walks, countless returns, it seems that only in the process of walking can we realize the happiness of life. Strange roads, strange scenes and strange feelings always make me unable to give up the feeling on the road.
People are natural children, so we should put our hearts in the natural sky. When the dust in the city gradually erodes a clean heart, walking is the only way to escape. We have no choice but to degenerate and fly.
Some moods are like epiphyllum, which only blooms in the empty night. Only the wind can see her heart slowly falling. It is not the day that causes ripples, but the petals that fall in the day. What remains in the palm of your hand is not the feelings of the past, but the years that are getting old.
Walking in the natural wind, you can forget many stories behind you, forget many grievances, worldly entanglements, vicissitudes of life, and tears will drift away with the wind. I like this time, singing in the wind, dreaming in the wind, and interpreting future stories in the wind.
On the way, there are always some touches left in life; On the road, there are always some stories frozen in memory, and on the road, there are always some time flowing in the palm of your hand.
I'm leaving. On my way?
Prose recitation of passers-by in the forest of steles Part II: Take a road to find sunshine Author: passers-by in the forest of steles
Farewell, sometimes just for a new start. ......
Sitting in the late autumn night, I suddenly felt cold. The autumn wind hasn't finished the last leaf, and I already smell the winter.
I don't like winter in my heart, but I still long for the season to change earlier. Maybe I'm looking forward to what I can take away from my long journey, or what a fluttering snow can bury.
Time is like a landscape separated by glass, which always shows the past years inaccurately.
Is there anything I want to forget but don't want to face? Some things don't want to hide because they are afraid, but they don't want to be touched easily. A person has been walking for a long time and is used to treating everything as the reincarnation of fate. When I am quiet, I can't find the cause of sadness or the source of unhappiness. Inadvertently, there is always some hidden pain hanging on the brow. A friend said that there is always invisible sadness behind my smile, and it seems that there is always a thick knot that the sun can't shine on. I understand, but I can't change anything.
When all the troubles were completely understood, when all the people I didn't want to see finally drifted away in front of me, I took a deep breath, as if all the bumps and difficulties had left me. From today on, can I open my palm and stand outside the crowd, look on coldly and be indifferent?
It is said that life is heavy, and a heavy life is inherently carrying some fragmented trivialities. When can we get rid of those power desires and selfish interests that bind us, and when can we keep our eyes on a primitive and quiet wilderness? I long for a quiet place to make my heart tend to be quiet.
It seems that what imprisons the soul is not the knot that can't be solved, but the lost path that can't be taken away.
Standing on the balcony, looking up at the distant lights, there is a vague emptiness and loneliness. At the moment, the mood is like the deep sun, with no route and no turning back.
Darkness covered my eyes with my hands, and a feeling of fatigue and irritability began to spin and fall like a whirlpool in the memory of the night. When all the dust settled, when my tightly held heart suddenly fell smoothly, I felt like crying. In this city, amid endless desires and interests, what else is worth my nostalgia?
The fast pace of the city, the dark business market, the streets covered with lead dust and the gray sky all year round make me tired of this city that I have lived in for many years. In the days without love, career and expectation, happiness and sadness seem so pale and lifeless in loneliness and boredom.
I used to think that I wouldn't be lonely when I was with friends. I used to think that there would be more and more entertainment, so I wouldn't be empty. But I didn't expect the emptiness after going out every night, leaving a deeper and more terrible loneliness and loss.
Away from the crowd, it is lonely and cold, close to the crowd, but it is also impatient. What kind of life are we looking for, and how can we make our hearts tend to be peaceful and quiet?
I want to escape and travel far away. Maybe there are some places where I can forget my troubles and discard trivial troubles in the world of mortals. Think of the small bridges and flowing water in the south of the Yangtze River, and think of the lonely smoke in the desert of Saibei. If I can release my mood in nature and find carefree fun in a short walk, I am willing to go to the world from now on.
I don't know when I gave up my long journey, and I don't know when I started sitting alone in the dark night, longing for the sunshine. Happiness becomes strange and distant in the long night. Bending down can't pick up yesterday's time, so let me embark on another journey to find sunshine before today becomes yesterday.
A friend told me that life has never given up the way to give a person happiness, only people choose to give up the pursuit of a happy life. After tasting this sentence hard, my heart hurts a little. What we give up and what we pursue are actually our hidden desires, about happiness, about wealth, about health and about the length of life. Are the original source of happiness in life.
Why do you cry on a lonely night? It is a lonely heart that can't find a place for the soul to talk. Tonight, I feel like a lost child.
I began to yearn for walking in the sun, and I began to yearn for singing in the sun. Maybe there will be my happiness in the journey of looking for sunshine. Pack your bags and prepare to leave, give yourself a good memory, and let the most romantic encounter meet on the wandering road.
The footsteps have not yet set off, and my heart has begun to travel far, taking a road to find sunshine and watching everything on the road bloom.
Prose recitation of passers-by in Beilin III: Words are my condensed life Author: Passers-by in Beilin
I haven't written for a long time Every time I see a friend's message on the blog and ask me why I don't update it, I feel a little ashamed and feel that I have accidentally failed others' expectations.
I know that because I like it, I will care, I will look forward to it, I will go into my hut again and again and ask again and again.
But I always live quietly in silence, night after night, day after day, dull, letting time flow at will, wasting time and killing my mood.
I am an ugly person who is not good at talking. I choose words because I need a way to talk and vent. When I write down a little bit of feelings in words, my repressed emotions will have a pleasure of being released.
Writing is just a wandering mood. When people keep asking whether they have written today, writing becomes a kind of burden and pressure, much like the homework that children have to finish, and spirituality and thoughts are missing from the machinery.
These days, I have been wandering in hesitation and contradiction. I don't know whether to continue writing here or close this blog. When I started blogging, I just wanted my words to have a complete reserved space. At the same time, I can also record my current feelings here, so that when I get old, I can find these scattered words and relive some previous feelings and stories. I didn't expect so many friends to accompany me all the way.
I am a sentimental person and a warm-hearted person. At the same time, I am also a narcissistic and selfish person. Every concern and greeting from my friends moved me. Thanks for the silent company of so many friends. However, I am ashamed to express my feelings, and I am not used to going to other people's spaces to ask questions and reply to messages, perhaps because of my long-term closed lifestyle, or because of my fear and boredom with people and things.
I chose the Internet because I didn't like worldly communication and entertainment, and I didn't like the hypocrisy of raising a glass. I thought the network was a space that could exist alone without the group, and I could escape some people and things that I didn't want to face in real life. But I didn't expect that there would be warmth where there were people, and there would be a desire to return when there were feelings.
I choose writing and internet, in fact, I choose an escapist attitude towards life in my heart. I fantasize about filling the gaps in the spiritual world with illusory things. I didn't expect so many people to like to read my plain words and listen to my simple narrative.
I, in fact, have always wanted to live a quiet life without being disturbed.
I know that this state I long for is an unhealthy lifestyle, but I can't get rid of it. I can't leave the city I built for myself.
When I am immersed in my own imaginary world, when I am integrating myself into every novel, realizing my dreams at will, and loving and being loved at will, my heart is a sense of satisfaction that I have never had before. Perhaps words are a kind of spiritual opium, which can enrich my life in fictional stories.
Everyone who likes writing has a dream of being a writer, but the initial writing is definitely not for utility, but really for the worship of words and the satisfaction of self-spirit. When words are clothed with utilitarianism, they lack some soul voices and become tools to make money.
People who like writing are well aware of their original intention of writing. I am glad that I have always understood myself and that so many people have always accepted me with tolerance.
Those who love me, please forgive my indifference and silence. If you love me, just look at me quietly and accompany me silently. I was deeply moved.
I saw many messages criticizing my words for being too gloomy and warning me to write some positive words. However, I am not a writer. I write a blog, I don't sell money, I don't earn fame and fortune, I just want to write about my current mood. If writing is a tool to exchange ideas, then I have been quietly talking to my soul. Maybe one day, I really feel very happy, then my words must be sunny and smiling.
I didn't pretend to be deep, but I was used to being immersed in my own ideology and feeling gloomy about myself. Yu Hua once said in his article:? Writing will really change a person, make a strong person burst into tears, make a decisive person hesitate, make a brave person timid, and finally turn a living person into a writer. ?
I have never been a writer, but I did make some changes in the process of writing, becoming sensitive and thoughtful, weak and sad, vulnerable and easily injured, and disconnected from the world around me, making it difficult to integrate.
A friend asked me: If you can choose, would you rather be a painful thinker or a happy pig? I said: I want to be a happy pig.
I always wanted to be a happy pig, but unfortunately I didn't become a pig or a thinker. My poor mind is in a state of self.
I have thought about what I am writing for, but I have never found the answer.
Some people say that the writer's inner world is lonely, but I don't think so. My loneliness stems from all the past I can't get rid of.
I wonder if I can get out of my confusion if I give up writing, but I still won't give up.
Perhaps, a person has satisfied the spiritual world to the greatest extent, and will also be accompanied by the loneliness of real life to the greatest extent.
I chatted with a friend the other day. He said he was happy, he was happy, and every day of his life was sunny. Suddenly, I want to cry. I never thought that anyone would live so happily, but in my heart, there are so many melancholy and unhappiness. I don't know if there is always inevitable pain in life.
Perhaps, pain is an experience, an experience. In pain, our thoughts can be sublimated again and again, and in pain, our body and mind can also be tempered again and again. That is to thank life for giving us the opportunity to experience pain. Why bother? And the process of forgetting seems a bit long to me.
Looking through my words over the years, we can see my mental journey. I seem to have been immersed in a kind of narcissism, self-pity, self-love and autism.
I seem to have been running away and hiding, and I don't know where this heart should be placed before I feel comfortable.
Writing is a lonely behavior, and the writer gets the greatest spiritual satisfaction in the text, so he is willing to give up the prosperity and noise. When body and mind are immersed in words, satisfaction, happiness and liberation are synchronous.
But I'm not. My words are more monologues of my inner world, so I am often intoxicated and confused in my own words.
I know that many people care about and love me silently, and I also know that many friends are happy for my happiness and sad for my sadness. Yesterday, on Little Wild Goose Pagoda Avenue, Yangyang said to me: Forest of Steles, do you know? Many friends care about you. You must be happy and bring happiness to everyone. Don't write those heavy and sad words again.
I nodded silently and didn't speak. Tears filled my eyes and warmth flooded my whole body.
I think, if my words are destined to be full of sadness, it must be that my heart has already been corroded by sadness. If possible, let my soul face the real world. I want to convince myself to get out of those sad puzzles and embark on a new journey.
In life, there are many ways to be happy. Quiet yoga, elegant dancing, leisurely walking and casual dating may keep me away from some sad memories and those quiet falls.
Destruction may be a new life, life is a toss-up between giving up and getting, and cause and effect are always closely linked in places we can't see.
My words condense my life, and my feelings are accumulated in the words. I can give up some once, some temptations, some confused feelings, some so-called fame and fortune. However, I can't bear to give up my words, and I can't bear to give up the people who love me.
My words are my sad jar and my emotional pond. Words give me love, words hurt me, words make me happy, words make me lose warmth. If I can come back, I want to stay as far away as possible.
Can you find an excuse to start over?
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