Shake it ~ shake it ~
Shake off the first resource of the soul.
The heart is happy. ...
Four years ago, time was always in the pages.
Turn ~ turn ~
After a relaxing last trip,
The heart is beautiful. ...
Today, time has been lying on the test paper.
Write ~ write ~
After painting the last light of childhood,
Heart is feeling. ...
I think, ten years later, time is always associated with this song.
Sing ~ sing ~
Singing the first song of youth,
The atmosphere is imaginative. ...
Thirty years later, time is always hidden in my hair.
Change ~ change ~
Made the last magic of youth,
The mood is sad. ...
Fifty years later, time is always squeezing into wrinkles.
Have fun ~ have fun ~
Happiness is a symbol of old age,
The mood is tasteless. ...
Time lyric prose 2 Forgive time and remember love.
Occasionally in a play, I was shocked to hear this sentence; Forgive time and remember love. Draw a pen and hide it on white paper.
Time, can it be worthy? Love, can you start over? The lost time is gone forever. What about the renewed love? Can it be the same?
Yes, time is a thief, and there is no such apt metaphor now. Time swept away and there was silence. I can only look at the paintings of the four seasons with spring flowers, withered grass and falling snow, making the colors light and fragrant. Between hair and hair, I was shocked by the changes of the sun and the moon. Who will say without regret, in the most beautiful years, have we written a brilliant love?
You can leave your brave words without regret and take you with you without regret! What about love? Will you be disappointed? In fact, love will eventually be remembered privately. Even if one day I am forgotten in the Jianghu, I still leave a little memory in my hope.
The best love must be meeting in the middle of the year. He prayed for a thousand years' return before the Buddha.
When love comes, it must be hot, and the eyes will leave traces on the body, with a warm sun temperature.
The way to relax in your spare time is to watch some life dramas, feel the joys and sorrows of the protagonist, and feel the true feelings of the world. When you see happiness, please wait for me. From the moment Zhu Yuanyuan and Xing Zhi took the wrong suitcase, although similar plots are not new, they still locked their eyes. Many times, we are in it and don't know what we want. One day, we realized that the world was far away. I realize that you are so heavy in my heart. The ending of the story, the happy crowd, the shuttle traffic, seeing you ... such repetition, I only want to live forever and never give up, so that the rest of the time has no regrets.
I also like Song Like Dandan's fascination with carbon dioxide. Yes, I met several times in fantasy dreams, so I met unexpectedly, whether it was menopause or adolescence. When I met it, I felt the same.
Yes, we can forgive the ruthlessness and haste of time. But I can't forget the rough waves when love comes. A friend said that when she fell in love with that person, it was a flower-like expression, and that once ordinary face became incredibly charming and gentle at that moment. It turns out that love is the best skin care product for time.
There are also some loves that meet the right person at the wrong time. So there is a rational distance, and there is an escape that I am afraid I can't bear. But who doesn't believe it? It's love. It's just hidden.
We are acting every day, and sometimes we are so absorbed that we forget ourselves. Sometimes you can't believe your poor lines. Play and play, and you become someone else. It turns out that the world is always unable to love.
In a calm day, some people choose stormy waves to seek an earth-shattering love. In fact, how can we be competent? Love is never blasphemy, and the life of the game can't be left behind. Love, originally selfish, wants only one thing.
It is often said that men in the world are fickle. I have seen it, too. His hopeless breakup that year. After many years, I still insist. Looking across the sea, I just don't know the other side of the river. Have you ever chosen to forget? A man with deep feelings always reminds me of a sad melody when he thinks of that relationship.
In the first time, there is always a shadow that you can't forget, the sand that you can't lift, and the bell and drum of memory, you don't want to wake up. It turns out that what we crave in our hearts is just to find the person who will always understand you in this world. It happened that we met and left. Instead of clinging to love, forgive the ruthlessness of time and remember the warmth of love.
Forgive time and remember love. How open-minded and warm words left me feeling, in the years.
Memories are a long dream. It won't be bright.
Quietly curled up in the river of time.
Silent, but pervasive.
Time will take everything away, but it can't take away the scars and memories left by the past.
The memory of this spring haunts my mind.
Time flows away at your fingertips like water.
Parting is always a sad word.
Distance will grow old one day, and the life spent by wind and frost will become a vigorous memory.
What we remember and forget.
Scattered to the end of the world with the wind.
Yesterday, who sacrificed his youth and cried in the dim light.
I can't see your face clearly, as if it had been a lifetime.
I have been afraid to leave, because I am afraid that everything will change when I come back.
Everything that was familiar before became strange.
A reincarnation, took away others and their own stories, leaving empty memories.
Some people have been standing in the same place smiling at me, but I can't see them anymore.
It seems that through a flower window, I can't see the faces of the people inside.
You said: Hey, let's go and watch the sunrise and sunset together.
When we can't walk.
I don't know if such warmth will really appear in my life.
Memories are so bright, just like the lost plot in memory.
In my life, I continue to be absurdly lost.
You said you didn't like me reading those sad books and writing those sad words.
I'm just wandering alone in a world of one person.
Always love to be moved inexplicably. Some people say that I am a sentimental person, which is undeniable.
Sometimes I want to cry when I say a word.
When my eyes are red, I desperately want to be strong. As soon as I looked up, tears flowed back to my heart.
I walked along the road you walked, but I got lost at the dark intersection.
Once, once, who promised an eternal way out.
Now, I suddenly lost it, and everyone around me was scattered to the ends of the earth. Nowhere to find.
Memory is something that will never change.
But, if, already can't remember?
Just like the book said.
The things that we thought we would never forget are in the process of our memory.
We forgot.
Mother finally made up her mind to sell all the useless old books at home.
She is nostalgic. An old photo and an old dress can remind her of the past. The people studying at home, like swallows, flew away one by one, leaving two old people guarding the nest. But there are still many books. The textbooks we have read, from primary school to college, are very important to my mother; Comic books I read as a child and some old magazines are also collected in many books. Mother kept these books and killed the trivial time that followed.
The garbage collector wondered, "How come there are so many books in your house?" This sentence is enough to make my mother proud for half a day. "Two college students have studied for more than ten years, can they be less?" Now I'm afraid my mother is the only one in the village who can pick up so many books at once. I don't know when reading suddenly became out of fashion. Many children go out to work to earn money after graduating from junior high school, and their parents are happy to have an extra helper to earn money. The books in the village are getting weaker and weaker.
Eldest brother picked out several comic book collections with complete covers and dried them in the sun for disinfection. I think he is basking in his childhood. Strange to say, things that have been useless for thirty or forty years suddenly become valuable when they are ready to sell.
I also don't give up, pick and choose, find out a few "Selected Works of Mao Zedong". Because it is thick, my mother uses it to clip shoes. There are still one or two old shoes left. Hold up a paper shoe sample and ask your mother, "Do you want it?" My mother is more confused than me and asks me, "What do you want my eyes for?" ? Now which one of you would like to wear my cloth shoes? "I was speechless. They were role models. My mother compared it, cut the pasted kudzu cloth into the shape of sole and upper, and sewed it one by one. When I was a child, the lullaby was the "buzzing" sound made by my mother when she pressed the soles of her shoes. My mother's youth was entrusted to them.
With quick hands and feet to collect waste products, and her mother's eyes are also sick, she picked out some local yellow pamphlets, which were her father's work records at work. Mother tidied them up and dusted the covers. I think it's very interesting. My father has retired for so many years. Is the exercise book still useful? I picked up a book and scanned it. My father's handwriting is very big and unique. Not on the horizontal line, but on the horizontal line, slightly inclined to the right.
"It's no wonder that someone was going to put you into the right. As soon as you read your words, you will know that you have a right-leaning tendency. " I pointed to the words in the exercise book to amuse my father, who was sharpening a kitchen knife.
Killing a chicken in the morning, the kitchen knife shook the chicken's neck several times, but it didn't break the chicken's neck. The chicken didn't kill, but dad was very angry with himself. Muttered, knives are useless, and people are useless. Mother scolded him quietly: I just refuse to accept my old age. He kept his head down and sharpened his knife without saying a word, as if he were competing with the grindstone again.
The book was put into several large snakeskin bags by garbage collectors and thrown into a tricycle to be towed away. Pity for a person born suddenly is like saying goodbye to a married daughter. When a book is sold, it will be prototyped and turned into pulp. I wonder in which book I will be reincarnated. Will I find it again?
Mom likes to be moldy in summer. I can always get unexpected things and copy some "past events" from the bottom of my mother's box.
Two thin pieces of paper, the size of the certificate, are mom and dad's marriage certificates. Mother pressed it flat on the bottom of the box, the paper turned yellow, and the red flowers printed on the certificate were as bright as new. These two pieces of paper record the ups and downs that Mom and Dad have gone through hand in hand for 50 years. Two strange young people, after the approval of these two pieces of paper, came together. After years of tempering and washing, like two old trees, intertwined, I can't figure out who the roots are for.
Suddenly I also want to leave some paper things, such as a black-and-white photo with notes, an ordinary letter full of paper, or a signed book. After a few years, missing will not become an extravagant hope.
A few years have passed, and these old days of marriage are lingering.
My alarm clock woke me up and I looked very happy. I looked up at four in the morning. I don't want to see the light at four in the morning. I just think I should wake up. Life has never been so gentle to me as it is today, these two years. Many tumultuous things have happened in the past two years, including I moved, changed neighbors and broke up with a girl in my neighbor's house. We chatted for a while, and then she said that the city I moved to was too far away to take care of each other, so our story fell through. I sat up straight and rubbed my eyes. I seem to have forgotten something. Since the weather is so fine, I think I might as well go for a walk. I washed my face, dried my teeth and brushed my teeth. Then I vomited a few bubbles, the light of summer, so my bubbles are beautiful and have many colors. The mobile phone that was thrown on the sofa last night swayed and circled on the soft one. I quickly pushed open the crowded bubble flowers and squeezed them in. Finally, I saw the flashing screen and the tossing words. I don't know who sent "I'm thinking about you." I don't know why I didn't hesitate. "But I don't know who you are." No reply.
I put on my pajamas and went out. The morning breeze in summer is a little cold. When my hand passed through the sleeve of the robe, the screen said, "Even the robe will get cold." I curled my lips. "Are you worried about me?" "Are you willing to take the initiative?" "I ..." I hesitated, because my plan was upset and I wanted to go out for a walk. So let's go to an empty coffee shop on the street. A voice told me that maybe the coffee shop in the morning will feel different from that in the evening. I picked up a tool that can receive information from strangers and went out.
At four o'clock in summer or at four o'clock in summer, there is always a faint light. Light fell from the sky, spilled on the ground and splashed everywhere. I don't understand why there are small shops opening at such a strange time, including this rare coffee shop. The light inside is mixed with the outside, and the feeling in my heart is also mixed with the unknown news. There is a lady in a plain dress in the bar. I think she is a shop assistant.
"Well ... sir, you are the first customer in our store, so you can come to the member table for free!"
"No, I'm sitting here!"
"Yes, sir, what do you want?"
"I don't often go to coffee shops. Please help me to have a drink! "
"Yes, sir." She left slowly.
I don't know why no one has come for so long, and I don't know why no unknown cup of coffee has come to me for so long, but I saw all the scenery outside the window, one flower and one leaf, couples passing by occasionally, leaves and flowers connected together, just like lovers holding hands, feeling so happy.
At this time, there is a feeling in my heart that seems to be urging me. I picked up my mobile phone and continued the unfinished message at home.
"I want to tell you a story. Will you? " At that moment, the smell of coffee and the nameless reply surrounded me at the same time.
Before opening it, I suddenly remembered and shouted to the lady who was about to disperse: What's the name of this cup of coffee?
She didn't look back: "I think you need this cup of coffee. Oh, sir, I wish you happiness! The name of this cup of coffee is love. "
I secretly took a sip of coffee, which tasted a little different from the coffee of the same name I had last time I came here three years ago. I looked down and it said: I do!
Time lyric prose 6 Let's have a good talk?
About what? Not always good.
You've changed.
Hmm!
What are we going to do? so this is it？
That's it!
At this moment, tears blurred the crystal heart, mixed with the taste of blood, mixed with various flavors. It turns out that in the end, feelings are inevitably dull. Just one person holding hands, one person was forced to break free.
Fill up the wine, forget it, and a bottle will be cool. Drunk, sadness will stay at that moment, maybe all this is a dream. When I woke up, I found that the world of drunkenness and death dreams stained my sadness even more. I hold back my tears and control my feelings, but I still have to burst my bank and let my tears flow out.
I'm crazy. I can't control myself. I can't control my branches any more, and they grow wildly one by one. It stung friends and made many people helpless. Finally cooled down, or an empty heart can't hold anything, what about the soul? I don't know where I went, but no matter how others comforted me, I couldn't get out of the whirlpool of love.
Qian Qian's absolute encouragement won't help. I began to inspire my depravity, turn grief into strength, and come out to see the outside world. But my world really collapsed and time went slowly. I followed slowly and didn't want to surpass it. Dreaming, thinking about the past, making up the story of the future, sitting quietly in a person's world, how good and beautiful.
The more you fight, the more cowardly you become. That hard heart, like a newly hatched eggshell, will break into pieces when knocked. Their words can only make themselves look more humble and unbearable. I just give up on myself and have no friends. Even so, I still try to let myself forget the past. A person can come into your life so deeply, how can you erase it temporarily and let it hurt quietly in a lonely heart!
Sink, sink!
Fall down, fall down!
Everything is over, the rain has gone, the wind has stopped, spoony people, silently, don't understand the sad cry.
Time is accompanied by sadness, and memories sting with heartache. Eventually, the wound will heal slowly, but it is no longer the mood of young people, empty and clear.
Take me away! Let the sword of time pierce my body. Since I have taken away all my soul, I still have a body to make myself cheap. It's not like you used to be, but it's also the most real. Everything has changed, and so has the world.
How many times have I called for time to choose, grieve and give everything back to me? As a result, one can't stay sad. In those lonely nights, it was like a nightmare, tangled and sleepless. Walking through the helpless night, but waiting for the helpless day, wearing a calm mask and living a tasteless self in the sea of people, is this a kind of life?
It's over. The most familiar voice in my life told me, "Cry!" Kid. "I was sad for a long time in my heart, and a little bit turned into tears, which broke her heart." Go home! Kid. Don't torture yourself alone. "How many helpless and those who inadvertently lost themselves, in the mother's arms at that moment, after the last drop of tears, restored the initial calm.
Now that time has removed all the' sadness', I still say my blessing in my heart, believing that it was the past. It also left a perfect ending for this beautiful story.
The feelings that have settled down are calm, as if many colors have been erased by time. In the colorful world, there are too many extravagant hopes and helplessness. It's better to be an ordinary self. Since time has passed a lot of strong colors, but it can't stand the diluted wind and rain, I finally chose to leave each other. Whether one person is sad or two people are sad, we are strangers, and we only have the best memories in our hearts. I believe that love will not go far.
Time Lyric Prose 7 Life is muddled, and after twenty, nothing is achieved.
Generally speaking, for people like us who are at a loss during the journey, childhood is really the most unforgettable fuzzy memory.
When it comes to that time, there are ups and downs. Until now, when I thought I could let go of everything, I still don't want to use the beautiful word "beautiful" to describe those days. "Youth" seems to be my biggest concession to the years.
I am not alone, but I am much more lonely than a person. I don't talk about loneliness, because my definition of loneliness is that no one shares inner loneliness. Loneliness is the loneliness of a group of people around us, not the loneliness in their hearts, but loneliness, loneliness, and the sky is gray-blue. Although there were not many people around at that time, there were not many people in my heart.
On that day, I told the person I liked that my greatest wish when I was a child was to play with my friends. Tying a thick rope between two trees may be the simplest swing. The flexible movements of clay hands are lifelike animals or hard clay balls used to play slingshots in a blink of an eye; In the cold winter, water is sprinkled on the deep and far downhill. What a simple skating rink. Poor and backward toys have become the biggest luxury in my age.
Once, I was beaten into hiding in the kennel because I secretly ran out to play and forgot my teacher's homework, and finally I was dragged out to continue playing. Well, my elders all want their children to get ahead, especially in rural areas, and adults all want their children to get out of that barren land. How difficult it was to farm at that time, unlike all kinds of big machines, there was no need for manpower, no time and energy, just a few rumbling noises.
When I picked up the book, I was depressed because I couldn't write the last poem "Busy Flying Kites in the East Wind". Even if I got the first place in the school year in that exam, I would still be unhappy, because my mother said, "You see where you are better than others, why can't you see where you are worse than others?" I feel that I still have a lot of dissatisfaction. It was really ridiculous.
Now that I think about it, entering the university is really more and more energetic. At first, I didn't expect a vigorous love, just wanted to talk about a marriage. I am no longer eager to get excellent grades in every exam, just add my usual attendance and ask the teacher to let me pass. I don't expect to find a group of friends who know everything, just want to be able to cooperate perfectly. Really decadent.
Standing at the gate of the children's playground with the person you like, you still don't have the courage to walk in. I don't know if the person standing next to me can understand my timidity, but I don't want to explain. Plain love has become a tacit understanding that you don't ask me, I don't say anything. Although we often imagine the future, a lovely daughter and a warm home running back and forth from his home to mine can be regarded as a grand trip across China, and our wishes are getting smaller and smaller but closer to reality.
The children coming and going in the amusement park snuggled up in their parents' arms and looked at me in his arms. I don't know whether it is intentional or unintentional. I always show a shy and timid expression or say "hello aunt" in my parents' kind eyes.
Aunt, it sounds like there's nothing wrong with the person who hugged me, but I'm shocked that I'm really old. I have already passed the age of seeing through the snake that ate the elephant, or I have never seen the sleeping sheep through the box. Although this is the nature of Aries children, I am still old and have no choice.
Finally, in fact, I can only watch the years slip away in my hand.
I want to be a writer, I don't need to be famous, I want to have my own physical book, write my favorite words, write inspirational sentences, write popular articles, and have six certificates needed for graduation. I hope one of them is a "marriage certificate". Today, when my English teacher asked me to write my wish for four years in college, I simply outlined my simplest fantasy on paper.
I am getting old. I admit, I am willing to let go of the happy and unpleasant memories of my childhood, just because they are all over, and I am also willing to let go of my future wishes and disappointments, because those will eventually become the past.
Time lyric prose 8 can't hold time like water, slipping through the fingers. We are in the tunnel of time, teasing memories.
At that time, you probably loved me. I remember that night, the soft moonlight spread all over the earth, and in the morning, I suddenly had a splitting headache. Sweat dripped from my forehead. You looked at me in distress, panicked, and temporarily forgot to call the emergency number. After a few minutes, you suddenly pushed the door and went out, leaving me groaning in pain. It took you a long time to get back. Behind you is your cousin, who is a doctor. Cousin looked at me and turned to you and said, get a wet towel quickly.
You seem to have got some straws, and a gust of wind went out. You brought wet towels all day soon, my cousin said. Call the emergency number. You woke up suddenly, took out your cell phone and made an emergency call. You said that night, you prepared for the worst. You said, we are the lotus of Bindi. There is no same life, but it is good to die together. I looked at you with tears in my eyes and said, no, you should live well. Even if one day I am not with you, you should still be alive, because there are a pair of eyes watching you all the time not far away.
Time that you can't hold, like water, slips through your fingers.
Later, you probably didn't love me? I remember that night, you came home very late, and when you got home, you were already drunk. When you get home, you start swearing. You said, I am no longer beautiful; You said, I am no longer gentle; You said, my cooking is not delicious either; You said you were tired; You said that your heart is so bitter; You said, can I let you go ... I looked at your painful expression and was speechless for a moment. When I was lying in bed, I kept asking myself, what happened between us? I remember that we were so in love. We agreed to go on forever. You said you wanted to give me happiness.
When I turned my back on you, I burst into tears.
Time that you can't hold, like water, slips through your fingers.
I haven't seen you since that day. You begged me, but I can't see you again. When I miss you, I tell myself that you have gone far away and it will take a long time to come back. When I said this, my heart was calm and there was no waves. In fact, since then, there has never been a ripple in my heart.
Time is like water, but you and I are duckweeds drifting with the tide, wiggle wiggle. One day, we lost each other.
Time that you can't hold, like water, slips through your fingers. We are in the tunnel of time, teasing memories.
Time Lyric Prose 9 Every autumn, the scalpers at home are getting more and more tired. Pulling the old wooden cart, I went back and forth to the village field. My father's hasty whip urged me to catch up with the unhurried years under the four hooves of the old cow, as if it had gone through countless times, and the traces of those hooves printed on the dirt road had withstood the soaking and sharpening of wind and rain.
When I was twelve years old, I was lying in a car full of corn cobs, and the air was filled with the smell of harvest. Looking up at the light clouds in the sky, you can feel the slight vibration of the wheels running over the ground. Or pull the hay back to the grassland and sink your body deeply into the haystack. A long and narrow leaf keeps cutting the blue sky, and the breath is full of the fragrance of the land.
Many years later, I heard a folk song: "Buried in the haystack, walking slowly into the plain, poplar leaves rustled by the wind at the fork, then raindrops fell, ducks in the pond chased the rain bubbles falling from the sky ..." In the distant desolation, there is also a distant warmth. I have experienced such a scene on the ox cart, but I didn't expect that one day, this scene would become a strong attachment in my life.
My favorite night is when there is a moon. I went to the wild shop to pull hay with an ox cart. Bundles of hay were loaded into the car, high, and then lay on it, swaying in the slow pace of the old cow. The moon in the sky seems to be closer to us, closely following our ox cart. The road in the wild is dark and empty, only the heavy hoof sound of the old cow. Occasionally, abandoned graves will appear in the forests on both sides, which makes me feel shocked and surprised. I tried my best to get into the haystack for fear that a ghost would rush out of the roadside. And my father's whip sounded crisp, which exceeded all my fears. I felt very warm when I saw the lights in the village.
One year in the twelfth lunar month, relatives from the city came to my house for the New Year, and we rushed to the town to meet them. When I came back, the people in the car were freezing, and the cow seemed to be extremely slack and walked very slowly. Everyone is curled up in a thick quilt, 18 miles, and this speed is worrying. Uncle couldn't stand the cold, so he got out of the car and trotted to the car. The cow trotted at the sight of someone running. This discovery surprised us, so we took turns getting off the bus and trotting with the cows, which not only improved the speed, but also drove away the cold. Many years later, people who have been on the ox cart will remember this scene, but they are far apart and can never get together again.
The ox has been in my house for many years, and accompanied us through the years of poverty, cold and unforgettable, but it has been silent. On the left front edge of the wooden cart, it is where my father drives the cart. Sitting there for many years, it has been polished like a mirror. I always think of my father at that time, and the long whip is crunchy all over the sky, as if I have inexhaustible power. Now, my father is old and walks very slowly, much like an ox.
Later, the family moved into the city, and the old cow and the car were sold. From then on, I never rode in an ox cart and walked across Qian Shan. After the vicissitudes of the world, I realized that the extremely slow and broken ox cart is the warmest and most carefree place in my heart.
Opened the northern window of time lyric prose 10, with a chill. The wind blew over the passion fruit leaves in front of the window, and the clear sunshine trembled.
The open window is much wider and the room is very bright. My eyes are closer to the outside world.
I stood at the window and was silent for a long time. My child came over, raised his arm and touched the window eaves. I asked, what did you touch? He shook his head.
In the distant building, some windows are still closed in winter. Everything was given to Dongyang. Others are open. Looking from the north window, I occasionally saw some black shadows walking in the depths of the house.
At this time, the dog's bark is the most appropriate, clear and audible, deep and long, with a little whimpering feeling.
Open another window and see what else is closed. It should be fully opened.
In front of the window, the bougainvillea leaves have fallen and flowers have blossomed.
My child touched bougainvillea and looked around. I said, what did you touch? He smiled, I said, touched the spring, right?