Stew a bowl of chicken soup to nourish the soul

I will continue to stay with this city in another way I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. Whether your mood is like a year, or… Forever military dream Forever military Dream (Ma Xiaochun, Kangle county, Gansu province) memories are like meteors, passing through the unmarked and blurred eyes, and the outline gradually… Spring rain I like spring rain like everything on the Earth. Just after the new year, the sky began to rain. I really like the spring in Jiangnan… Plucked the snowflakes of Dreams (modified) Near the new year, the first snow fell. I was surprised to read a long scroll in the morning, the white one is snow, and the gray one is tree… Self The fashion is transient, and the style is permanent. Things that can shine on others may not be put here. In…

Confused between pain and Dream (selected by writers)

After the winter solstice of 2010, my mother left without discussion. I was very painful, mentally retarded and stupid. Mother left without preparation, and I was not ready to see her off. Life is like a cloud. The wind blows and floats without a trace. Even if it falls in other clouds, it is confusing. I didn’t try my best to retain her, and didn’t care for her with all my heart. She was my mother, my closest relative who gave birth to me and raised me! I felt guilty and guilty, so that I would tremble in the days when my mother left in the future. I felt like I lost my soul and was heartless. Afraid, cold, gloomy, alive like a walking corpse. I actually handled my mother’s remains quickly. I sent some of those clothes to my neighbors, and some of them were sent to distant temples and donated. There are also those shoes, hats and accessories that have been properly knocked down for my mother. In doing so, on the one hand, it transferred my pain, avoiding seeing things and thinking about others; On the other hand, it made my mother’s warmth shared with specific individuals. If she had spirit in heaven, she would certainly feel gratified because of such giving. A few years ago, I once thought about how perfect my mother’s hundred years were, where to start and how to end, which was the most appropriate way. I hope it’s a little trance, not so specific. More than once in my heart, I imagined the scene when she left, and pondered over the wonderful part of the memorial ceremony, which was such a heartbreaking person and spurred my liver! I thought my mother would live, at least 80 years old. But my mother had no confidence and no ability to live. But I was still in my imagination, blessing her, hoping her and supporting her with my own will. Therefore, everything was still in my imagination, and my mother died, which really caught me off guard. Although my mother was happier than ordinary people when she left, she was not so absent-minded. Therefore, when the reality was in front of me, I lost my voice and could not recite a memorial. I feel uncertain, powerless, helpless. I haven’t seen clearly the appearance of my mother before and after her death, a noisy funeral, and sent her up the mountain. A pile of loess and a mass of paper ash buried my mother’s innocence and diligence. After dozens of days, I was still dizzy, thinking that my mother was still alive because I often met each other in dreams. Until the spring festival of, happy people, hot firecrackers and gorgeous fireworks reminded me that my old age had been eliminated. I just cheered up a little bit, knowing that I was still alive and must live with everyone. However, living now is already an orphan. No one nagging, no one expecting, no dry, endless tears, can make me reluctant, bitter, and painful, thinking of a lot. The Buddhist books I read for several years, the exhortation to the world, the alertness to life and the revelation to the universe and the world played a great role when I was at a loss. Pain is in confusion, injury is in confusion, life is like a dream. In the spring of, I had already stayed on the website of Yibin writers, recuperated and licked the wound. After that, I wandered among websites such as red sleeve, Banyan Tree, Chinese online poetry, jinxianling, Sichuan writers and so on, using code words to pass the time. Words are charming. Driving them away according to personal wishes or concatenating them as chapters always makes people unable to stop. As if I was reviewing my lessons, I became warm and affectionate with the long-lost words. In this step, those previous rational lives used to resist pain were disturbed and became sensitive and fragile again. It seems that the world of mortals is showing off more, more confusion, and more changes in scenery. I am back to the season of dreams, greedy love, persistent, and flowing. Love beauty as well as kindness. It turns out that I also have a moving heart, from the end to the starting point. The moon is still that Moon, and the star is still that star. I still have a wandering journey, wasting my life and wasting my time. I will continue to drift, one journey after another. Will the situation be good? Who can know. In the spring of 2011, I participated in the second activity related to literature. For the first time, I went to a farmhouse in Gongxian County to enjoy Chinese food happily and met some literary friends who had known for a long time but never met. I also went to the Camellia mountain to enjoy the Camellia carefully, took photos with the Camellia, wandered in the sun, strolled on the layers of stones, confused in the vast sea of flowers, and did not want to go home. The second time was in a wooden house near the city of Changning County, participating in the activity of indulging Bamboo Sea to preserve health in Changning held during the Valley rain festival. I encountered the breeze blowing by the river and smelt the fragrance of the log cabin. In addition, many vivid portraits made by ebony sculpture, the solemnity of the three saints in the West, and the solemnity of Huagai and Liantai. In addition, I appreciated the splash-ink of a painter on the spot, the on-the-spot performance of several calligraphy lovers, the timely capture of music by a news writer, the ongoing program and the warmth of human feelings, the warm sunshine lasted until dusk. In 2011, under the inspiration of some poets and poems, I learned to write poems, exaggerating emotions, rendering atmosphere and feeling good about myself. The hit rate is not high, but it is very passionate, and I almost learned to write poems. In 2011, my prose collection “looking back at my Homeland” was rated as one of the excellent local literature books in 2010 by the propaganda department of the municipal Party committee. I also remember a leader’s earnest instruction and sincere encouragement when he met me. In this year, I also won Xie Jin literature and art award and Yang Hansheng literature and art award, which was a little rewarding and joyful. Immersed in the self-entertainment of small people, it is difficult to get into the Hall of elegance. In 2011, I looked forward to it unprecedentedly in the depth of my soul and was luxurious in the world of thought. Reverse the pain and turn the sadness into force. Warm yourself with words and face the society with Ah Q spirit. I swam, struggled, rose and fell in the fate, bleachered many wounds and pains, and floated many hopes and dreams. I am confused between pain and dream, burning limited life passionately and expanding the dreamy world naively. In 2011, I finally integrated into my life in a way of laughing and challenging the past with a similar crazy attitude. Half sober and half drunk. Floating Life lasts for years, and true feelings bet on tomorrow. My 2011 nian. (1847 words) Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. Reading from afar, it is just above that snowfield. The snow is really beautiful, after all it is spring… Waiting Waiting is a kind of persistence, sticking to a certain belief and never giving up. Maybe because of a certain commitment, or because of a certain… Be good at listening to different voices and opinions On October 6th, I published a travel essay: “beautiful autumn scenery”, which was obtained by many literary websites… Read The Bridges of Madison County “When the white moth spreads its wings, you can come to me at any time”. I think, if I am a man, be accepted… From today on, I want to be happy I read “the biography of Hulan River” long time ago, and I remember that I was really in a heavy mood for a long time. Which characters caused me… Sick time I sneezed one after another these days. I said someone was reading me and others said I was sick. Finally, the doctor also said I was…