Step middle-aged

Looking back, the Green years seem to be the scene of yesterday; Looking up, it is already an immediate thing for people to reach middle age. Inscription the day before yesterday, my daughter found out my photo when I was 18 years old, and she was surprised unconsciously. In the photo, my head was like silk and black hair scattered on my shoulders, and a white coat made my skin look white as snow. The delicate face was cut with autumn water reflecting the moon, and the gurgling eyes were flowing. Although it was not a country, it was also a small family Jade. Now I can’t find any shadow of the past, even my daughter laments the ruthlessness of the years. Years are ruthless. A simple word may not only refer to the appearance of getting old, but also the appearance of youth has passed away! My slightly cool fingers touched my dry cheek, and my heart suddenly felt a little sad. From youth to middle age, it seems that there is only one step away. It is so close that people have no time to recall and think. However, the eyes are charming, and there is only vicissitudes in the eyebrows. How sad! qi yue flow fire. The hot sunshine was burnt ruthlessly, and even the leaves were curled up, with less anger and hope, reflecting the bright light burning people’s eyes. Tonight, the sound of insects outside the window chirps. The tireless summer cicada was making noise on the plane tree, and several dogs barked and echoed in the distance. The small town was brightly lit, and The Mountain Shadow was blurred in the distance. There is no trace of wind in the hot and dry air. Open the window and welcome some moths to accompany me. Watch them rise and fall around the light, flapping the light with a pair of thin wings, the lamp was banging. That was a brave worm. Unexpectedly, the fervent high temperature didn’t avoid it deliberately, but rushed forward. This kind of behavior naturally falls into people’s eyes and is ignorant of the current situation. Sitting in the room, the hot air encircled and suppressed, sweating like rain. The thin shirt sticks to the back wet, and a little coolness invades the skin, but it doesn’t feel comfortable, and it gives birth to infinite irritation. This feeling is like a traveller walking in the desert. The sun is scorching his body, the sand is burning on the soles of his feet, the water inside is all evaporated, he opens his weak eyes and drags his floating steps, struggling to use all the strength, stumbling to find the oasis. If there happened to be a hint of wind blowing, it must be like seeing green in the desert, with green light shining in eyes, open mouth, sucking greedily and swallowing. When I was alone, the music was sad, the air was lonely, and even the books at hand were covered with a thick layer of loneliness. There is more rain this year than in previous years. In the daytime, I like holding an umbrella, melting into the rain and fog, watching the water vapor rising in front of me and the pedestrians around me in a hurry. Take a little raindrop in hand, just like holding a crystal clear tear, watching it rolling in the palm, broken, with the fingers flowing, the prosperity of the whole body dispersed. From time to time, there is always a rainstorm pouring down. However, the process of brewing rainwater is long and tangled. Let alone external incentives, internal conditions are also indispensable. Only when appropriate opportunities are brewed, the Thunder will stir the ground fire, dropping thousands of miles. It was like every quarrel between husband and wife, which was always caused by the indefensible and irreconcilable contradictions accumulated for a long time, and caused by external factors, it was vented like a storm. After this vent, it actually enhanced the understanding and understanding between each other. Quarrel has become an indispensable blend in the relationship between husband and wife. It seems that there is such a phenomenon: the couple who seem to quarrel to death but love each other deeply. The couple who seemed to love each other, but they were all in harmony. However, things always have two sides. The fight with my husband a few days ago was like a thorn in my heart, which was hard to get rid. Therefore, my friend said that the drizzle made me worry, and the rainstorm irritated me. A rain unexpectedly made me worry, and I felt so funny. The long road of life, the strange two people from the initial acquaintance, run-in, tacit understanding, to the last interdependent, never leave, bitter and sweet self-knowledge, fortunately and unfortunate only in the heart, it is unknown to outsiders. Raindrops beat the canopy, splashing water drops on the windowsill, just like crystal flowers, exquisitely carved. The green curtain at hand is bright and clear in the rain and fog, like a flourishing tree, which is swaying. When a Rain Flower was blooming in my eyes, I suddenly felt a breeze blowing through my heart, which was infinitely appropriate and cozy. The soft voice of my daughter came from behind me, which was as clear and sweet as the wind under the eaves passing the bell, and the sweetness reached the softest place in my heart. Looking at my daughter’s flowery face, I felt a little trance. It turned out that my daughter was so big. It turned out that the years went so hastily that I was really middle-aged, it turns out that all of these do not need to feel sad. I couldn’t help thinking of: when I was a child, I was a silly person; When I was a teenager, I was innocent and fearless; When I was young, I was a lofty and conceited person, but when I was a middle-aged person, why not? Looking back, the Green years seem to be the scene of yesterday; Looking up, it is already an immediate thing for people to reach middle age. Blink. I can’t keep my youthful appearance, and the temples in the mirror are already dusty. The smile on the lips is no longer pure and fearless. The eyes that used to be like water are all delivered to the world of mortals, and there are no longer blue flowers and shadows. Looking back, in middle age, there is only a soft wave in my eyes. A heart is only given to Su Nian, and only given to streamer. Like (prose editor: dancing alone with rain) 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…

Memento picking up of four

Nowadays, there is no evidence for rivers and mountains. In the sound of drawing corners, horses come and go frequently. Who can say anything about desolation? The West Wind blows the old Danfeng tree. Should there be countless bitterness in the past? Iron Horse Jingge, Qingzhong dusk Road. Passionately devoted deep dash? Deep Mountain sunset deep autumn rain Nalan Xingde “Butterfly Love flower. When I was young, when it came to Qingming Festival or other festivals, my father led me to go to the grave. After worshiping some tombs in my family, I would climb a hillside and a narrow terrace which had been deserted in the past, in the middle of the sparse grass, there is a lonely grave. Father raised some food in front of the grave, burnt some paper money, and knocked three heads after finishing. At that time, I also kowtowed. The man buried in the grave was called Ma Shuan, a relative of my distant family. My father called him grandpa. He died early, probably in the 1960 s. I was born late and had no chance to meet him. My father told me about this relative of Ma Shuan when he went to the grave at that time. He was the former actor of Shanxi North Road Bangzi Opera Troupe and the Enlightenment master of Jia Guilin, a famous actor of North Road Bangzi. My grandfather is a super opera fan. Maybe because of him, one year the North Road Bangzi Opera Troupe was singing opera in our village, and Jia Guilin was having meals at my grandfather’s home. My grandfather is proud of it every time he mentions it in the world. He played in the troupe, that is, he played a trick. He entered early. Before liberation, he lived in some private theatrical troupes. He had suffered a lot. He knew a lot of plays, one move at a time, with enough kung fu on the shelf, and the performance was getting old, most newcomers in the theatrical troupe are led by him. Maybe it is because the sky is not a dummy, and the voice is born to be insufficient, so it is not satisfying to sing, so there is a saying that there is no horse plug for singing. However, no matter which role is short of people at ordinary times, he can go to emergency, which belongs to today’s golden oil and so on. Actors, in the past, most of them had no way out to enter this field. xue xi hard, long for life wandering, acted on the stage genius and beauty in pairs, in reality and goes for rare someone home. The social status is low. When you are on the stage, people will cheer for you. It is not necessarily possible to get off the stage. Once you get old, you can’t sing any more, then you will make people in the theatrical troupe look supercilious, and it will be difficult to eat and eat. The elder relative of my distant family, who had never married in his whole life, had been living in the theatrical troupe. When I was old, I was ill and couldn’t help me any more. Some people in the troupe inevitably said coldly and frowned, so I was embarrassed to continue staying and sent a message to my grandfather, my father and several uncles brought him back from other places. After a while, he died of illness in our village. His hometown was in a village called Ma Jian dozens of miles away from the east. No one in his family was willing to handle his funeral, so there was no way out, my father and uncle buried them on the hillside beside their graveyard. I have been studying and working for more than twenty years from my hometown. During this period, I also went back for several times. When I went to the grave to make up for the filial piety I owed to my relatives, I would certainly climb the hillside, burn some paper money and respect some food for him. Sometimes I sat in front of his grave for a while, looking at the surrounding long loess, grass breeding, wind blowing through the hillside, and silence around, I would think that the underground world, it should be more desolate than this! Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) change the way to continue to stay with this city 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…