Are you sad or happy in the dark?

Lying in bed, looking at the dark roof, I feel very upset, I don't know what I'm thinking, and I can't sleep.

Every night, I always feel sad, unprovoked sadness, listening to the whistling wind outside, and the sound of some people riding bicycles, which is so clear in the silent darkness.

Sometimes I get scared. I stare at everything in the dark night, always worrying that something will appear, which scares me. I am timid. Every time I go to the toilet at night, I always run very fast, as if something is chasing me, and then I run into the house, slam the door hard, and quickly hide under the covers, especially when the room is lit with hot lights and covered with a big red quilt. My heart will be more practical, because I think these two things are the magic weapon to suppress all evil. I've always been like this, especially when I was young, and I still am. I wonder if you are?

As dark as the universe, except that there are no stars, no moon and no galaxy. This universe makes people feel lonely. I am like a ghost floating in this chaotic universe, and only I am looking for the light that does not exist.

I'm afraid of the dark, but I also like the dark. Darkness can blind people's minds to think nothing and worry nothing, but at the same time, I will also bring emptiness, loneliness, loneliness and fear, as if it is always dark and there is no light. That kind of black can float into people's hearts like a note, conveying the faint sadness in your heart, which will never be erased. That kind of loneliness makes people feel scared and scared.

Night is lonely, lonely and sad, especially when you stare big eyes and stare blankly, you are surrounded by sadness. ...

Maybe the night is relaxing, carefree and happy. At this time, you can relax everything and don't need to think about anything unnecessary. At that time, you were surrounded by happiness …

Are you happy or sad? Are you afraid or unknown? Are you enjoying or worrying? Darkness can tell you everything, please don't refuse darkness.

Cricket complex

A few days ago, my friend gave me a cricket, which is called cricket in Beijing, and even gave me a clay cricket jar with a quaint and elegant black pattern on it. This friend also grew up at the root of the city wall. His home is Chaoyangmen, which is close to Jianguomen, where I lived as a child. Now we all live in Wangjing. When it comes to childhood, we all feel the same way. There are dozens of cricket pots on his balcony, and many birdcages are hung on the beams. This friend's surname is Jin, Hui nationality, and she has a real Beijing accent. It looks like old Beijing at first glance. My friend who grew up in Qianggen Hutong in Beijing is a few years younger than me. He has a strong body and a pair of Beijing grandpa's courage.

I put the cricket in the living room and wait on it carefully every day. Besides the necessary water, I also supplied it with mung beans, carrots and sweet potatoes in different ways. The little cricket made a home in my room. When night falls, it makes a clear and pleasant cry. Lying in bed, listening to crying, my thoughts drifted to my distant childhood. Every year, the "hot summer" comes, and in the evening, there will be crickets chirping in the grass and bricks at the root of the city wall. My partner and I approached gently, turned bricks in the moonlight, and with the fragrance of earth, we could see a cricket flapping its wings and singing. I tapped my hands quickly, and most of the time it jumped away and ran away again and again. Occasionally, when I buckle it again, the little cricket is covered with my hands, carefully placed in my palm, put in the cricket jar and brought back to my family. Occasionally, I will take it out and fight with other children's crickets. If my cricket is defeated, I will retreat as soon as possible to avoid being bitten and unable to recover. Most of the time, I just enjoy myself. Whenever I lie in bed at night, I listen to my crickets and crickets in the grass outside. In the silent night, they sang for me with the most primitive songs. As described in Bai Juyi's poem "Sitting at Night": "Before entering the tree at night, sitting at night, the phoenix tree is on the stage, and the cricket is near the window."

When I grow up, I wander around the world. Whenever I hear crickets chirping in late autumn night, I feel homesick. Cricket left a good memory for my childhood. As Qiao Xiaoyang wrote in his article, "Yes, that cricket sings at your place and at mine. The song reminds people of childhood, carving bamboo to make cages, calling for lights to fall, and mother told us to add clothes ... "

No one plays cricket now, countless people wander in online games or video games, and there are games that I can't tell you yet. I heard that there was a cricket market in autumn, and most of the people who stayed were gray-haired, and the youngest was over 40 years old. "The deceased is like a husband." Cricket has withdrawn from the melody of the times, but it also has unforgettable beauty, only because of the changes of the times, future generations can't understand its beauty. With the hustle and bustle of modern times and the richness of material life, few people have experienced the simple happiness that is close to selflessness. Moreover, crickets have entered the era of money. I saw a program on TV the other day. An old Beijinger goes to catch crickets in the wild every autumn. He is very knowledgeable. In the cricket market, a fine cricket was sold for 5000 yuan. It is true that modern people have entered an era of only recognizing money. In the past, simply appreciating crickets was "Jin's clothes are ancient dust".

Two thousand years ago, the appreciation of crickets in The Book of Songs-July described the scene of farmers working in four seasons. It is better for insects to use crickets to set off their hardships: "July is in the wild, August is at home in September, and October is under my bed." It's the first month, so I'll let it stay at home. I put it in the living room, sing at night and sleep with me. "The bright moon shines at night, promoting the singing of the East Wall", listening to the chirping of crickets, I entered my childhood dream again.

Cherish the fate and experience the years.

Time is like a river, and no one can keep the lost waves. I have lamented the ruthlessness of the years more than once, looking for those past years, the vicissitudes of the world, and the vast sea of people. I can't help but think of our brief meeting twenty years ago, which was just a short greeting. Today, because of literature and our common hobby, we meet again.

Our reunion is a kind of fate. In the past 20 years, we have been slowly changing. We are all married and have a family. We are both busy with work and career all day. We are developing our hobbies. Occasionally, in the conversation of colleagues, you know that I live in a city today, but we haven't met for 20 years. Maybe it's curiosity, maybe it's hope, maybe it's emotion He added me.

From that day on, we only chatted occasionally, about family, career, children and recent situation, and finally talked about writing. Writing is just a hobby of mine. Because of the tempering of life and my understanding of life, I always like to write my own mood and diary. Over time, I wrote five diaries and read them once last year. Therefore, after registering the Selected Works of Heart Joy, you know that you visited me later and asked my space, and you did write it. "Today, I opened a collection of Xin Yue's works, saw her articles and saw her mental journey. The image of heart-warming reappears in front of us. She is a successful person who has been working hard and has been making unremitting efforts to pursue a happy life. "

I haven't seen her for nearly 20 years, but Xiang has changed from a girl to a dignified and elegant middle-aged mature talented woman. People say that "time flies like water", and the running water of the years can dilute and smooth everything. I haven't seen her for many years. She must be more calm and silent, and mature like a heavy ear of rice. I tried to find her in those years between the lines of "Selected Works of Joy", to understand her now, and to chew her biochemical process from the past to the present in "Lugo".

Through the collection of Xin Yue's works, I found that Xin Yue is a person who loves life, is unwilling to be lonely, is a person who dares to take risks, struggle and forge ahead, is a person who perseveres and perseveres in telling his life feelings in words, and is a person who has endured hardships and faced boring work for decades.

It is said that she loves life because she loves others and herself. In her spare time, she listens to music, dances fitness dance, realizes the beauty of life and imagines the comfort and happiness of life. It is said that she is a person who dare not be lonely, because there is always a warm current surging in her chest, and she always regards reading, writing, making friends and music as an elegant and fashionable pursuit. In the lonely and silent night, reading words attentively brings joy and excitement. It is said that she is a person who dares to take risks and struggle because of the hardships of life.

Forcing her to spend a lot of time, in order to open up mountains and forests, using her life to work, in exchange for the richness of material life, to support a high and open blue sky. It is said that she is a person who insists on telling her feelings about life in words, with perseverance and perseverance, because she has kept a diary for decades, kept writing her feelings, and kept writing what she saw and heard, and today she has assembled a book. How difficult it is! It is said that she is a person who perseveres in the face of boring work because she is determined not to look back. Persistence in the end is victory. The difference between people's success and failure lies in whether they stick to the end, whether they treat work, life and life with a consistent spirit.

As the saying goes, "Where there is a will, there is a way. If you cross the rubicon, 120 Qinchuan will be Chu after all; " Hard-working people, irresponsible, hard-working, three thousand Yue family can swallow Wu. "From Xin Yue's works, we can see her life footprint and love for life. Her emotions, joys and sorrows, joys and sorrows, joys and sorrows have all passed, but they all passed like the wind, leaving unforgettable words and memories. Everyone's life experience is different, and perhaps their perception of life is different. Just like reading the poems of Wang Guozhen, Xi Murong, Shu Ting and Dai Wangshu in college.

At that time, I was very devoted to reading. Nowadays, when people reach middle age, reading it again seems to lack the passion and realm at that time, just like Xin Qiji, a poet in the Southern Song Dynasty, wrote, "Teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow, fall in love with the building, and say that sorrow adds new words;" Now I know what it's like to be sad. I want to say I still have a rest, but I want to say I still have a rest, but I know it's a cool and good autumn. "

Now we don't have the troubles of Xin Qiji at that time, but we are a little more calm and heavy than the frivolous when we were young. I only hope that everyone who loves life will embrace life and nature, so that truth and love can become a passport to the human world. I also hope that Xinyue will live more and more happily in the future, because life will not disappoint those who are prepared, because every day of life is a new beginning.

After reading "Selected Works", I suddenly thought of a couplet in Suzhou Liuyuan: "Reading correctly, reading easily, reading coquettish and quiet, reading the novel, reading the language firmly, the years in the book are the most interesting;" As wild as chrysanthemum, as sparse as plum, as clean as lotus, as fragrant as orchid, as rhyme of begonia, it must be called a fairy among flowers. "To happy people with the same hobbies.

The first time I saw your writing. To tell the truth, you write sincerely, and what you write is true feelings. Besides, your writing is good. I think so, too. Perhaps our writing is still raining in Mao Mao on the vast road of literature. We should continue to study and read more, and constantly improve our writing level.

I cherish our hard-won fate. Because of your acquaintance, because of your mutual understanding, our communication has narrowed the distance between our hearts. Because of our love for literature, our communication is more extensive. Our conversation is like a trickle, warming our hearts. Because of understanding, we entered each other's spiritual world. Maybe this is a rare fate. Let's cherish the fate and experience the years.

With the growth of age, the center of the earth will gradually become indifferent, and more and more people find themselves enjoying a quiet life. After going through a lot of storms, they will learn to face everything calmly. The beginning of our friendship is the beginning of fate. Because of the emotion flowing in the text and the entanglement of imagination in the text, we began to approach, wait for the weather, and wish ... Such support and encouragement made me so moved, because of that happiness, even shocking, because of that effort, you knew me better than myself, but you didn't deliberately say anything. Everything is natural.

Cherish this fate, time, and walk with the United States. Those feelings that have been remembered and told in words are still there, so I have been waiting and trying to cherish such a permanence. Really, do you feel it? I feel it because of your thoughts and sincerity, because of your concern and greetings. Although we are just chatting, I will cherish our fate, because it is rare to find someone who understands me in this world!

Because of words, there is a yearning, because of words, there is a warmth, because of words, there is a cognition, because of words, there is a treasure, because of words, there is a touch.

Step on the leisurely ladder of words

The blue sky leads me step by step to the quiet world, stepping on the leisurely ladder of words and walking in the moonlight. Like a flower, like a painting, like a painting, but I can't describe what is entangled in my heart at the moment, like sadness, like cold. The distant bell sometimes knocks out the sadness that I can't let go. If you can send your feelings in the winding path of this wonderful text, even if you can't feel the comfort in the secluded place, you will certainly get a moment's respite and joy. Even if I spend my whole life, I can't reach the realm of Zen. At least, when I crawl in the depths of the text, I can pick beautiful scenery that I can't forget, and I won't wave my hand at the tip of my memory and the coolness that is about to gush out.

I can't escape the chaotic struggle between clarity and turbidity. I would like to be as clear as lotus seeds and clear as clear water at this moment, quietly enjoying the dew condensed from heaven and earth, and washing away fatigue and loss drop by drop. How I wish I could meet Guiyan, who is familiar with each other, in a beautiful corner, and chase the ups and downs that belong to us with them, and feel how the restless pulse in their blood overflows my heart lake bit by bit, ready but not ready. Or lying quietly in the embrace of the wind, looking at the blue sky and overlooking the bustling crowd, your eyes may be full of tears, and your mouth may still have a warm smile, sometimes longing and sometimes melancholy. Maybe I can let the rain penetrate my body unscrupulously, and only make my soul unique and independent, although I will be unable to extricate myself bit by bit.

Catkin is swaying gently where I can reach, reading the poems of birds, the secrets of flowers, the frustration of warm air and the melancholy of green grass. If I can float leisurely behind the bright light and shadow, in a white cup, I will find a hangover that I have never had in a thousand years; Or in the search for Yi 'an laity, walk through the deep courtyard; Perhaps in Xin Qiji's Long Night Flute, we can create the same lovesickness mistake without regret; You can also ride a thin horse in the west wind of the ancient road in Ma Zhiyuan to experience the sadness of looking far away; If I can still see it at first sight in Nalan, I will only say: The Tao at that time was ordinary ... I was always addicted to this plain and elegant writing trap, holding pieces of idle clouds floating around as if I had no time in my hand and sticking a trace of sadness on her forehead. No matter who receives the clouds I daubed, please don't sigh. She is just a cloud floating across your sky unintentionally, and it will not turn into a lingering drizzle and wet your world.

Don't be happy, I'm just a cloud, and the distance is where I want to go. Please stop and listen to a cloud and put yourself in the loneliness of the sky. Endless twists and turns in my heart, holding a beautiful and vivid text, can't make me stay for one more second. The wind is blowing, and I want to dance in my own world again.

Let the words string together a feeling to fill an indispensable part of my life, which was stolen at a certain time because of the wind and rain. Savor the joys and sorrows of a flower, listen to the moon and her whispers, and watch the wind kiss her laughter unscrupulously. I can't help but immerse myself in this quiet and beloved time and space, and my heart will move with me and linger. Please don't wake me up for a walk. In those years when I couldn't be reincarnated, I could read all the topics unrelated to words. I miss this moment, holding a wisp of light smoke, passing through the encirclement of Tang poetry and Song poetry, crossing the dangerous beach with a hazy heart, and standing quietly on the river bank that belongs only to the night.

Let the warm breeze gently stir the hair tips and smell the temptation of flowers carefully set on the other side. Only with dreams, implication, silent love, silent joy.

Dancing on the strings of spring

When winter is over, spring will come.

A snow took away the memory of winter and brought the blessings of this season. The remaining dreams gradually heat up under the touch of time. The sleeping river, attracted by Miss Chun, opened her hazy eyes and witnessed the miracle of cosmic reincarnation. In this way, a river of spring water flows eastward.

The withered branches can bear loneliness. generate has accumulated the strength for a winter, and the wings of hope fly in the sky, crossing the waters of Qian Shan and sprinkling green on the world.

Buds bloom quietly. Smoke and fog are full of deep poetry. It is like flowing music, permeating between valleys and rivers, purifying the polluted air, restoring the courage of life to humble souls and filling plain souls with wisdom.

In the face of a vibrant life, the seeds of hope will take root and sprout, and they will have the strength to break through many obstacles, break through the ground and seek room for growth. A touch, a concern, and the wings of dreams are getting fuller and fuller, and we have regained our confidence in life.

Buds spread quietly. Solemn, elegant, brilliant and virgin. Waving, some colorful butterflies stopped on the branches, dazzling sunlight crossed the wings of butterflies, some empty illusions scattered, and the earth was clear.

Look, one leaf, two leaves ... Bud stretches her waist, showing her charming face to the sky and the vitality of life and the spirit of making progress to the earth. A bud will grow into a towering tree and a bud will grow into a dense forest.

Oh, behind the sunshine, I see those buds dancing on the strings of spring.

The sunshine in my heart

The sun is shining; Care is sincere. That care and encouragement again and again is the sunshine in my heart and the driving force for my progress.

In this cold season, missing is a glass of cold water. Dare not touch, also don't want to touch, but accidentally knocked over. Miss began to turn into the ocean, and the surging tide drowned me inch by inch. ...

The scenery of life is changing all the time, and impermanence seems to be a natural situation. Many times they argue with each other about whether it is fair or not. In fact, the creator has his own ideas. Man is only a part of the existence of wonderful things, not the specific owner.

In my memory, the most profound thing is my mother. I was very dependent on my mother when I was a child. Mom needs to take care of the family alone in our university. I am her youngest son and her favorite person. Every time I grab something with my sisters, my sister cries and runs back to my room. My mother always does it for me.

I don't know how much happiness was contained in pride at that time. In any case, my mother will talk about her lovely and clever little son in front of her neighbors. My mother has lived a hard life at home since she was a child. Because she is the oldest child, she is not allowed to study at home, so she doesn't study very well. Only later, under the guidance of her father, she would read literature books slowly, and sometimes she would smile and want to tell me about the shortcomings of my published articles!

My mother is a kind person. During my schooling, my mother always greeted me with satisfaction and worry. I remember, when I was a child, my mother told me that there were too many obstacles on the road of life, but I must not be discouraged. Ten years have passed in an instant, and I have encountered too many difficulties, but I will never live up to my mother's expectations and will never be angry. Life is an endless road, and I keep going. When I am confused, there will be a voice whispering in my ear. When I encounter darkness, there will be a ray of warm sunshine to light up the road ahead for me. I gave it to my dear mother when I was a toddler. ...

Life with relatives is beautiful, and happy freehand brushwork is more about the experience of love preparation. After so many years, my mother loves herself very much. In a trance, my thoughts returned to my childhood. I saw a busy figure, that is the mother who is working hard; I saw a tired figure, that is my mother knitting cold clothes for me; I saw a cheerful figure, that is, my mother was happy for my study progress.

Think carefully, in this life, when did I lose my mother? Whenever I cry, my mother comforts me; Whenever I feel like a lonely and helpless bird, my mother will open her wide arms and give me warm and loving breath.

Once I had an injection in our school, I felt dizzy. It was noon. When my mother heard about it, she rushed to school without even having lunch and went to see a doctor behind my back. Later, my mother asked for leave to accompany me to the hospital. At that time, I saw my mother very sad. I don't know why, but I also feel a little sad. Another time, my parents and I bought a big watermelon. When I got home, I didn't eat and my mouth was watering. After my mother cut the melon, she gave me a piece of seed with less meat and sweet taste. She eats a lot of melon seeds, and melon meat is not very sweet. But maternal love can be very strict sometimes. I have always had a bad habit of carelessness. Once, after I went to physical education class at school, I accidentally lost my clothes. When I got home, my mother severely criticized me. But I know that my mother is actually very sad and doesn't want to scold her son, but only in this way can I get rid of my carelessness. My mother often urges me to be a man and teaches me the way to live.

I remember when I was a child, my mother could do many things by herself, and she did all the housework at home by herself. But now, my mother can't stand the torture of years. In my memory, you are fragile, old and covered in cocoons. You are not the sunny you used to be. I am an audience watching this film honed by years. What I feel is nothing more than: life is to be created and to be strong.

Perhaps, I don't know how long a meteor can fly, and I don't know whether it is worth pursuing. I don't know how long the cherry blossoms will last and whether it is worth waiting for, but I know that no matter what the reality is, my mother will always be the dazzling and eternal sun in my heart. ...

The years are quiet.

Words are a part of my life.

I feel depressed and uneasy recently. In the ocean of words, I am intoxicated, snuggling, soaring and swimming tirelessly. No, this kind of fatigue is a habit, a kind of enjoyment and an instinctive impulse. Write your own feelings, feelings and stories, colorful, with laughter, tears, sadness and happiness. ...

For me, writing is a kind of unspeakable happiness, tapping my mood gently on the black keyboard, and there is a kind of emotional catharsis that people can't stop. How I hope my words can blossom and bear fruit, and how I hope my words can bring me a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that nothing can replace. How I hope my words can not only be appreciated by myself, but also make others feel like spring breeze.

Words are my only sustenance. It can pass away my loneliness, it can fill my emptiness, and it can enrich my spiritual world. In my spare time, I can't walk with my feet, watch TV, read other people's articles or understand literature. Only words can bloom beautiful flowers in my heart.

I don't know poetry, but I can improvise what I want to express and make it up at will. I know it's not allowed and out of rhythm, but I'm not happy if I don't write!

Whenever I speak my mind to the words, my feelings will rise and fall involuntarily, sometimes I feel gloomy, sometimes I am moved by myself, and sometimes I burst into tears.

A netizen once told me that words are used to express a person's feelings and heart. If you overemphasize the importance of your article to others and want to make it public, it will be too vain and will ruin the purity of the text itself. But seriously, I can't do it without showing off. Is it disrespectful to show off my words and myself? I am not a person without shortcomings, nor am I a person without vanity. Of course, I hope my article can be affirmed by others, but if I get praise from others, my heart will be as happy as flying in the sky. Once I can't get praise from others, my heart will fall into the abyss.

Writing is not my whole life. It is not as important as family, but it is also a part of my life. I love it as much as I love a part of my body. It's about elves, lively and lovely, young women, pure and kind, old people in time, and years on paper.