Cang ink bar

Sometimes, narration is just to commemorate one’s existence. It is like the vicissitudes of those who count down time. Day after day, year after year, my heart counts every cycle of time. But it is also like a person guarding the independence, sitting alone beside the river and watching every wave put out on the river. I just want to cherish the world axis that I don’t know when it will suddenly break. If, obsolescence is just a kind of sadness, which cannot be copied, but it often strikes. The years are like moving in the silent time. The red and green brick walls covered with moss and the old wooden buildings covered with black and white walls all show a familiar old smell. The chair with a creak, pressed against the heavy old body, just sat alone in the alley. The turbid eyes had already lost the most colorful color in the world. The dust that penetrates the sunshine is still lingering here, jumping excitedly, floating, and slowly silent in a dark corner, continuing to write the traces of history in the next chapter. I hate the feeling of missing the past, but it is easy to see some familiar things, familiar scenes and the same dialogue. He also let himself miss and Miss involuntarily, and then his mouth was full of the smell of old vicissitudes. If, words attach power. Always when I was about to give up, what I said to myself was just a bloody killing, but it could let me continue to face it. No matter what the ending is, I have persisted in some things. I just stick to the end, but what I get is not the result I want. Does this make me look stupid? But I knew it was silly, but I still kept being silly. Some things, I said to myself, as long as they still exist, can not give up. Because nobody knows the result, but if you give up, that is the result. Three lives, three lives. If I live, if I live for the world. Why generation after generation. Do your best and listen to the destiny. So, now, no matter what, I insist on doing it. Although it is a kind of self-oppression without words and a way of self-abuse. At least, I can prove that I still exist in this world. The world is really small; The whole life is really short. Jumping out of the universe, the world is just a sphere. Through time, life is just a few decades. The bizarre Society and the ups and downs of life, and what is the expression. No one can predict tomorrow’s life, but can arrange tomorrow’s life. Who can’t guess? We are just puppets in the hands of people in another world. If God is the director, it is both crying and laughing to arrange you to cry. Because it cannot be proved, everything is still a scene in life. If, words attach power. The truest thing is just self-comfort and hypnosis. However, it does have power, along with killing blood, which can make the heart stronger. If I only shortened my life course, it would be my shortest journey. The only thing we can do is not to give up what is in front of us easily. Until the end, there was no result. 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…

Cold Night

One day in the winter of 1967, suddenly a message came from my father’s unit, saying that my father was ill and asked his family to take care of him. Hearing this news, my mother asked me to go to the Xipan town where my father was sent. I am the eldest brother in the family, who was fifteen years old, the eldest sister was twelve years old, the second sister was ten years old, the eldest brother was six years old, and the younger brother was only three years old. My mother couldn’t get away, so I could only take the responsibility. At about eight o’clock in the evening, I set foot on the last train passing that station on the Shanghai-Hangzhou line. Looking at the dark area outside the window, my heart was very heavy, as if hanging a lead pendant. I don’t know what’s wrong with my father, and I can’t even manage my own life? I guess the disease must be serious. I stared at the darkness outside the train and was distracted for fear of missing this small station which only stopped for two minutes. About an hour later, the train stopped slowly. I got off the train quickly, only to find that there was no second person getting off at this station. I have never been to this small town, and I don’t know where to go. I had to ask the duty officer on the platform, only to know that the station was four or five miles away from the town. Out of the platform, it was dark all around, and there was no pedestrian on the road. I walked alone on this strange country road with one foot high and one foot low, as if I was a drunk who drank too much. The wind was very cold. I wrapped my clothes and straightened my collar to keep out the wind. Walking and walking, it began to rain. I didn’t bring rain gear, didn’t want to take shelter from the rain, and had nowhere to take shelter from the rain. I could only move forward mechanically, but I was very anxious. But the more anxious I was, the more I felt that this endless dark stranger had no end. I didn’t know how long I had been walking. I found a light blush street lamp appeared in front of me. I knew the town was coming soon. The wooden pole stood on the roadside alone, and the light in the half waist was emitting dark red light, In the wind and rain of this cold night, this faint blush gave me a hint of warmth in my heart. I stared at this dim street lamp silently, and my eyes were even a little moist, as if there was a person to talk to for the grievance I suffered. The town has arrived, but where is my father’s unit? I was at a loss again. Ask someone, there is no figure on the road. In this cold and drizzle winter night, in this winter night when the Great Cultural Revolution made everyone in danger, who would appear in the streets of this town to drink northwest wind? I had nothing to do, so I had to take the most stupid and primitive method: Looking at the signboards or the written words door to door. My father’s unit should have a signboard in this small town, which makes me confident. I walked along the street, and the shadow under the street lamp was from short to long, pulling into an infinite dark color, adding a trace of terror to the silent street. The cold wind and drizzle hit my face. I shivered and got under the eaves beside me. I looked at the door of this House and the door of that house. I found that they were not, and I felt a little scared. I was terrified, helpless, and even felt a little wronged. I didn’t know what to do, so I had to bite my head and continue to look forward. It was not until the end of the street that I saw the signboard hanging in front of my father’s unit, and the light was revealed from the crack of the door. I knocked at the door with courage. Someone inside asked me. I reported to my house that I wanted to find Zhang Longwen. Someone came out to open the door, I didn’t know how to call a man in his thirties. I just called him Comrade according to the habit at that time. He was not cold or said Zhang Longwen was there. Pointing to the cabin on the left, he walked into the middle room. I walked towards that small room, heard the buzzing electric current and saw the light coming out. I entered the room and saw my father, who was lying on a single bamboo bed without falling asleep. Dad, I’m. I called him. My father heard my cry, raised his head and told me with a little difficulty that he was badly ill and had a fever for three days. He couldn’t get up. Was it raining outside? Seeing that my hair was a little wet, he motioned me to wipe it with a dry towel. Dad, do you want some water? I poured a glass of water from the thermos and asked. Well. Dad, have you asked a doctor to see it? I asked. No, I thought it would be better to endure. Who would have thought that I was so sick. My father owed his body, and the bamboo couch made a creaking sound. I’ll call a doctor to show you right away. So late, where can I call a doctor? Tomorrow humor. Maybe I can get up tomorrow. You haven’t had dinner, have you? My father seemed to notice something and asked. I said I was not hungry at all. I looked at the house where my father lived, which was about five or six square meters. Besides the bamboo bed my father built, there were some messy old wires and electrical materials beside it, there are several big switch knives, one electric lamp on the wall, and several ammeters are constantly buzzing. This is an electronic control duty room and a small warehouse in my father’s unit. Because my father was sent here with a black hat, such as a member of the three youth league of the Kuomintang and an agent of the management, so that he could stay in such a loud and bright place as a shelter, it was said that it was a preferential treatment for him to take a 24-hour duty officer. My father was still having a fever. I squeezed on my father’s narrow single bamboo bed and couldn’t close my eyes all night, except pouring water for my father several times, I really couldn’t stand the strong hum of the dazzling light on my head and several ammeters. I tried to cover my head with clothes, only temporarily covering it, but in the silent winter night around, the buzzing thunder above my head kept pouring my earmuffs, as if several fighter planes were roaring, how could I sleep? I don’t know how my father slept in such a preferential environment? Will he sleep well? The next morning, I was dizzy and took two enamel cups to the canteen of Jiexi commune to buy three Liang porridge and two pieces of fermented bean curd. I washed my father’s face, but he seemed to be more spirited. He put up his body, leaned against the wall, picked up the cup and ate porridge with spoon. At this time, I also held up the cup. Somehow, a drop of tears fell into the cup. I turned my head quickly to prevent my father from seeing it. Written in 2003.4.4. Night 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. 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