Have you written your mother's prose (900)

My youth is invincible waiting for you to discover.

My dream oath will not change easily.

Don't back down, don't leave room for regret.

Put a smile on your lips.

Get ready to take a step

Conquer all dangers

Spread my charm to infinity.

-Inscription.

The complex world is bizarre, but it is accompanied by infinite reverie and longing. In urban life, colorful notes are jumping. She is cheerful and unrestrained, which is a beautiful landscape in the city and injects great vitality into the beautiful city. Friend, what is this magical thing? Don't be confused. This is the self with beautiful youth.

Youth is the green of spring when everything is in full bloom, and the responsibility is to be a tailor with scissors of "February Spring Breeze".

Youth is red in jubilant summer, and responsibility is to hold the rudder of "struggling forward".

Youth is the yellow color in the fruitful autumn, and the responsibility is the plowman who holds the sickle of "bumper harvest"

Youth is white in the cold winter with snow everywhere, and the responsibility is the climber who holds the "fearless" pole.

Youth is the spring breeze. What she brings is the revival of everything on earth. As long as you brush it gently, you will leave a beautiful seven-color rainbow. The wind of youth is transparent. The indulgence and mischief of childhood have long passed, and the wind is passing towards a goal. She pursues perfection.

Youth is the red maple in autumn. Autumn makes people feel sad. After all, autumn has a cuter side. Red maple is naturally red, pure red. This is the infinite yearning and pursuit of youth. She brings anger and courage to pessimists. And we young people have increased our confidence in running towards our ideals.

Youth is the summer rain, which comes quickly and fiercely. Young people, we have unlimited vitality.

Youth is also the sun in winter. The warm sunshine shines on the earth, and it is so fresh to stretch out your arms and take a deep breath in the dead of winter morning. You will find that the sun is new every day.

Youth is not red lips, but positive, indomitable, indomitable and self-reliant. Youth is the jubilant spray in the waterfall of life. Responsibility is not a vague prevarication, but an echo of the phrase "study for the rise of China" and the courage of the phrase "whoever goes to hell if I don't".

Youth is not a pink face, it is facing difficulties, working hard, being hard-working, self-respecting and self-confident. Youth is a fish flying in a deep pool in the sweet spring of life. Responsibility is not escape, but the courage of the sentence "Only the country can have a home", and it is the sentence "If you don't stand guard, he won't stand guard, who will defend the home, I will!" Heroes.

Youth is the spring of life; Youth is the ideal torch. Youth is the focus of a person's life, full of colors and dreams; Youth is the bud of flower of life, which is gorgeous and dazzling. Cherish youth, nothing in the world is better than youth, nothing is more precious than youth! Youth is like gold. You can be whatever you want to be.

Bid farewell to the sentimental rainy season, bid farewell to the nostalgic past, plucked the colorful strings, and we set foot on the border of youth. Youth is a flower, beautiful but easy to fade. If you don't take care of it, it will wither before it is beautiful. Youth is rain, hazy but affectionate. If we don't grasp it, it will turn into tears and break when we are sad. Youth is the wind, which comes in a hurry and goes in a hurry. If you don't stay, you will be fleeting inadvertently and drift away without a trace. Youth is hope, even if someone fails, there will still be a firm and persistent dream; Youth is freedom. If you want to sing, you can sing forever. If you want to cry, cry tragically. Youth is a kind of load, and people can't find a corner to rest in the cycle of giving; Youth is a struggle. Only when people know how to climb can they reach the Range Rover and struggle to succeed. Youth is an unrepentant road. If you leave, you can't go back. Youth is a heavy book, which can be filled with happiness or loneliness, but it can't stay on the title page because of waiting.

Youth has colorful dreams, and youth has dripping sorrow; Youth has our trekking footprints, and youth has our bright smiles; With youth, you have the hope of the future. With youth, you have the sunrise of life. So, all the sighs of youth turn into lighthouses, and go forward with everyone who loves life, and then go forward. ...

Youth is not the warm golden sunshine, but the red sun that trudges through Qian Shan. Youth is not full of green grass, but a great force to break through resistance and stand out from the crowd. Youth is not a crystal clear stream, but an impassioned gathering of bits and pieces.

Reading youth is like watching a waterfall, savoring the purest color at the beginning of life maturity in that regretless rush. Reading youth is like dating a flower fairy. Walking in is a living world, and coming back is infected with an impure aura. Youth is not as calm and deep as a river, as rational as a philosopher of the elderly, as complicated as a long speech, and there will be no depression of the ancient sunset road, and there will be no desolation of the wind and the waning moon. Youth is so free and easy, clear and pure, lively.

Thank you, colorful youth!

Because of you, we will not shrink back before the gap in life; Because of you, on the verge of falling, we will always have the power to struggle; Because of you, on the bumpy road full of thorns, there will always be sunshine in the hall of victory in our hearts; Because of you, at the low point of failure, we give ourselves another chance.

Without you, there would be no human footprints on Mount Everest; Without you, there would be no green figure stationed on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau for many years; Without you, the human team is like a blunt arrow. I really can't imagine how quiet and boring the world would be without you.

Youth reveals deep poetry; Youth exudes a faint fragrance and affection. Youth is full of youth, infinite vitality, beauty and self-confidence. The pace of youth will not stop because of difficulties, and the melody of youth will not be blocked because of wind and rain. Youth is sunshine and a sign of self-confidence; Youth is moonlight, which is the representative of elegance; Youth is a star and a pioneer in leading fashion. Let's raise the skirt of youth and set sail, let life fly here and let youth set sail here.

on the way

Dark, but warm and safe. I curled up and closed my eyes in peace. Suddenly, a huge thrust put me in a cold and empty space, which stung my eyes. Forced to leave the familiar environment and cry loudly. I groped around with my hands and feet, and a door stood in front of me, struggling to climb over and slamming open. There is a road outside the door, and the end of the road disappears into the sky. With curiosity and desire, I hit the road. Winter is the most frequent season on the road. Dead leaves and branches can't keep the rushing north wind, they can only look forward to spring. The snow covered my feet and it was difficult to walk. I fell down again and again and got up again and again. I lamented that winter was too long, even longer than I hoped. The north wind, with a cushion of snowflakes, condensed my tears into ice crystals. Stumbling along, the road was covered with snow, and fog and ice coquettishly amused me. It's just that in my lonely traveler's eyes, they are no longer bright and pure, and they can't make me exclaim. The road is infinitely rugged because of inner loneliness. How I want to hold fire, hope and wait for flowers to bloom. Spring has arrived. I remember when the birds sang in spring, I was a gentle pink baby, dreaming of the scenery on the road in my mother's loving humming. The grass grows and the warbler flies. I became a toddler who learned to speak. Grandpa's kindness and generosity became an eternal memory in my life. Slowly, I became a cunning and naughty boy, chasing butterflies in the wind. Without the help of my elders, I could walk steadily on the road alone. This road is no longer terrible. There is no sadness and bitterness on the road in spring, only pure happiness and simplicity. Joy and affection are the themes of spring, the warmth of cooking smoke in the streets, and the warmth of heart like apricot blossoms and spring rain. The road under the spring breeze is spacious and flat, or it is deliberately protected by family members, so the road will be like this. In summer, the heat wave is scorching, extremely fresh and refreshing. Sweating all over is very comfortable, and the mouth contains the coolness of the instant melting of popsicles. Love played the main theme of this season at the right time. The pain in my heart and the disappointment of walking alone are swept away in the warm package of love. Those painful folds are ironed by love. People seem to fly out of cocoons, without the strange entanglement of nightmares every night. Summer flowers are gorgeous and charming, like smiling faces, and the waves from green trees and cypresses are accompanied by the music of love. Summer is the season of love, and the scenery becomes wonderful. Even if there is a storm, it will clear up in an instant. The lingering greetings of love and the depth of love will make all the bumps on the road disappear, and the flat and wide road will make people feel lofty and ambitious. Friends who know each other and cherish each other are like fruitful branches on the road in autumn, which makes people always want to sigh. They sent charcoal in the snow, asked for help, and forged a lifelong friendship. How many cheerful and hearty laughter spilled on the road. A bosom friend is the most trustworthy person on the road, just like a towering mountain on the road. Standing there, you are happy, the green hills show charming colors, cheer for you, you are sad, and the green cages can be seen everywhere to silently resolve your sadness. The trickle of friendship makes people refreshed and full of vitality. On the way to autumn, you gain more. Looking back, I can't help but feel shocked. I thought there was no end to the road in the sky that hour, and I had already walked more than half. All the past on the road is a necessary exercise in life. Those rugged struggles in the snowy road, bright childhood fragments, lingering love in summer, and intimate friends who accompanied him in late autumn will all become the most precious and beautiful memories in this life. If possible, I hope the road under everyone's feet is smooth.

on the way

Odysseus is on his way home.

I pulled out the sword of fate,

Pierce the chest of history.

This is the sound of hooves in the Iliad.

This is the lonely footsteps of Aeneas.

Yes, I'm following;

Yes, I never hesitated.

Before many years were wasted by human luxury, a genius compared life to a bumpy road. Since then, countless mediocre people have inherited this sentence again and again and carried it forward. Of course, people like me who can't be called mediocre can't help but compare life to a road.

Since young Werther jumped into people's field of vision, the suicide rate of teenagers seems to have soared. I think they must have forgotten that they are still on the road, thinking that the road has come to an end. It can't be said that they are doing stupid things, but maybe they can only be called cowardice and courage.

I followed suit.

I heard the earth under my feet sigh heavily.

"Road, why do you sigh? The person who should sigh should be me! " I squatted down and listened to the whispers of the road of life.

"Well, I thought I had smooth skin, but ... well, the past is terrible. Looking back now, I still feel like a knife! " Lu sobbed, "Now, my skin is as uneven as the surface of the moon!" "

I felt scared when I touched her body. This road is what I want to go!

"Is it fate? It put you here, didn't it? "

I stood up angrily, resenting the injustice of fate.

Road, shook his head, tears could not help but shake down again.

"No, it's my master. She destroyed me herself. But I don't hate her, I just feel sorry for her! "

"Your master? Isn't it fate? "

"alas!" Lu sighed again.

"Push your hand away." Lou pleaded softly.

I opened my palm, and suddenly, I understood.

I am the master of the road of life. The so-called lifeline, love line, wealth line, they are all in my hands.

I squatted down again. I seem to feel like that stupid king. After searching for a long time, I finally found out that I was the real culprit. Finally, I can only sigh with his evil mother brooch.

"For a long time, I walked very hard on the road. I thought it was fate that affected my life. Who would have thought that it was myself that influenced my bumpy life. "

Lu looked at me enviously and held me in her arms.

"For a long time, I seemed to be waiting for the angel of fate to lead me into a happy paradise like Dante. Who would have thought that I chose to follow the spirit eager for a second death into purgatory. "

"Look around you! Master! Your parents, your relatives, they love you, aren't they the embodiment of angels? " Road pointed to the distance, "there, is heaven and purgatory! You know how to cherish, it is heaven, if you are just pessimistic, it is purgatory! "

"I used to think that people with suicidal tendencies were brave and cowardly. They forget that they are still on the road and there is still a long way to go. And I, why can't I see which way I'm going? "

Lu took my hand. "Odysseus chose the way home. He is happy. Whether he can get revenge or not, he is still on the way to heaven. What about you? "

"Me?" I smiled. "I think I waited for the angel earlier than Dante. I am going my own way! "

My way ...

see you again ...

Six evangelical angels are in front.

They are praying for me.

The prayer is: remember, you are on your way!

Answer life

White clouds make notes, green branches make pens, and the coolness of the first morning light is turned into a poem by Chun Xue by a trickle.

The fragrance of flowers is smoke and the moonlight is wine. Turn the silence of the sunset into the notes of flowing mountains and rivers with a little star eyes.

Wandering poems trudge in lonely valleys. For the scenery in dreams, only with persistent steps can we read the loneliness of wandering and reunion.

Wandering piano music strolls in the streets full of voices. For the sake of the pure land in my heart, I always hold my head high to appreciate the troubles that can't be waved away in the vast world.

Dust and faint sadness often condense into fog, blocking life in a vast and desolate way; However, ardent expectations and firm beliefs will always converge into a torrent, surging with great passion.

Time flies like water, it is impossible to just carve tears; When the wind and rain are gloomy, you always have to quench your wings.

Wandering alone in the autumn wind, in the boundless desolation, my cold feet, I don't know what I am looking for.

Standing silently on a rainy cold night, in gloomy eyes, I don't know what to expect.

It is best to let the vicissitudes of time waste the past as soon as possible. Since we have chosen the long road of no return, all the deep and shallow footprints should no longer be haunting scenery.

Calling for Song one after another, how many days do we have?

The flower season, which comes slowly and goes in a hurry, makes us think deeply.

Roaming dreams, far or near, ask us how-

How to answer life?

The mountains are high, the clouds are light and the wind is light, which should be a scenery that will never fade in life. For the sake of the cup of life, there is no longer a trace of bitterness. What can you forget with tears? What is facing anger?

Almighty, we answer life.

Throw the sun and the moon, and we will answer.

music

I have always been a person who loves music. I have always loved music. The persistence in my bones is often unreasonable to others.

On sunny nights, I always play a folk song in the CD player. I have always liked the sound of dulcimer and the shallow singing of a female poet in the Zhu Dynasty. The cherry is red, the banana is green, and the window sill is wet by the rain. And I am surrounded by the warmth of the sofa. In the low-key and flying fragrance of Nestle coffee, I clearly know that the wind outside the window is extremely cool and the white clouds are inlaid with moonlight like water. Everything is perfect, tomorrow will be sunny, and I can be unscrupulous.

However, I am in a bad mood most nights. Loneliness. Desolate ... and a little scared. This time, I will choose Zhang Chu or Tang Wei. I always sit on the blue and white hair in the corner of the living room with a resisting attitude, like a lonely but stubborn child. A full face of resistance and anger, but with bright eyes open, listening to Zhang Chu sing "God Bless the Full", singing without words. I am a person who doesn't eat on time, so God doesn't bless me. I often feel depressed and miserable, and I burst into tears. On the opposite side of my beloved blue-and-white sofa is a white wall, a large piece of white, which is as empty as Mount Tai. I tried to hang some of my favorite oil paintings on it, but in the end I took them all down. Blank, or blank. That white wall reminds me of the hole in Anne's palm and the unknown desolation in my heart. It's all warm and painful And once the music starts, I will touch the bright colors on the wall, which are concave and convex.

Zhang Chu always reminds people of the sultry long streets in the hot sun. Crowds of idle people in slippers are walking on the hot ground with glassy eyes, like meek and stupid sheep. However, a child wearing black trousers stood on the asphalt-soaked black road and announced with bright eyes that he had a cold. A crack appeared in the cold bone, like a fragile crystal cup. The child's name is Zhang Chu, and he says lonely people are shameful. He said ants are good.

Selling Wei always gives people a taste of late spring and early summer. Every time I hear his voice, I can keenly feel that there are a lot of water molecules suspended in the air, which become tears when attached to my eyelashes. Saiwei's voice always stirs up a black wind through the hall. In the wind, the big black blooms alone, and the burning brilliance burns my light gray pupils. Seville always gives me a feeling of shrinking. Return it and then return it. It was not until he retreated to a dark corner that he could rely on that he was willing to let his voice flow like a spring. Children usually have rebellious nature. Don't you know that Wei is still a child? Anyway, I am a child. I always sit in the corner of the library, creating and waiting for my little happiness in that corner. Whether my blood is boiling or my body is stiff. In short, I don't want anyone near me.

Music is really a good painkiller. To me, it is like a cave, where a stray and often injured beast can hide and I can lick my wounds.

My friend said that she could fly freely in music, flying all the way over the sun, the moon, Cangshan, the water, the endless rivers and the black peaks until the dark clouds cleared and the sun shone.

I don't think I have that freedom. I can only shrink my body tighter and tighter in music. I fell asleep until I opened my eyes and all my troubles disappeared.

Then I will be very happy and won't cry alone in the dark.

Those are as dreamy as the sky, as dreamy as clouds, as electricity, as weeping, as flowers, as phoenix, as andante, as Qiang Qin Opera/My Black Elegy.

film

Wong Kar-wai.

When I wrote these three words, my fingertips hurt slightly but severely. He is a person who is good at creating hallucinations, and I am a person who is good at indulging in hallucinations. Just as he is a good actor, I am a die-hard fan. Wong Kar-wai manipulated too many fates and lonely too many people. Happy characters are always sad at the end of the play, and sad characters are either crazy or dead at the end of the play. Loneliness is Wong Kar-wai's killer, and loss is his night clothes.

Those lively winds, those lonely people. Takeshi Kaneshiro, who kept eating the expired canned pineapple, kept waiting for the miracle, Faye Wong, whose eyes were empty and his gestures were lonely, Leslie Cheung, who repeatedly looked through the almanac, Brigitte Lin, who was dancing his sword against the reflection in the water, and Tony Leung Chiu Wai, who finally sealed all the secrets with mud, and Zhang Mangui, who was wearing a coquettish cheongsam under the dreamy street lamp, were as lonely as those who refused to heal, and would always rush into my dream like an iron horse glacier every night. Past lives Things are different. The stars move around. Things have changed the dream of a thousand years. Never wake up.

Wong Kar-wai creates a false impression and a black wound. Every wound is like a black Datura, enchanting and painful, with endless black fragrance.

Calculate my horoscope and look at my palm print. I think I'm finished.

A person always subconsciously approaches some people who are similar to himself. I remember someone saying. So I know that the blood flowing in my body is so lonely. Ice blue blood is the loneliest.

I always have amazing touches on the characters in some non-mainstream movies, just like a small impact on mimosa is disappointing. I have seen many unknown movies, most of which I selected from thousands of movies. And the people in those movies are always lonely. I clearly saw a man standing in front of the dimly lit French window tearing the calendar, page by page, persistent and crazy, until he finally went crazy and jumped from the eighteenth floor. When he was flying in the sky, large colorful clouds flashed in the sky. I still remember a woman who bought herself a bunch of roses every night and threw them away the next morning without looking until someone finally gave her a bunch of roses. When she saw the rose withered the next morning but could do nothing, how did her eyes flow all over the floor?

There is also "Tokyo Love Story", which I have always regarded as an extended version of the film. Whenever the theme song of "Tokyo Love Story" rings, there will always be a bright and painful smile in front of my eyes, and that smile will always pull my soul out of my body in an instant, and then pull my body out of this world in an instant. Every time I look at it, my heart tightens. When I see a handkerchief tied to the railing of an unmanned station that says "End smelting forever", when I see Chi Ming Li want to squat down on the train and cry like a child, my eyes will feel faint and swollen.

See your figure squatting on the football field; I kicked the ball, too. I called your name softly. Did you get a look at him? After melting, I carved "Blooming in the Bright and Fragrant in the Sweet" on the pillars of the school, with your handwriting written when you graduated eleven years ago. At that time, you should be a radish. I really hope the engraved name can fill the blank memory between you and me. I don't know if my name can stay here for ten or twenty years, just like your name. Even if it may be short-lived, as long as our names are side by side, it is enough.

Who sings a black elegy/who looks at the white village/my mercury/my fireworks/and my black hillside is covered with yellow tails/lively wind/lonely people/clear soul burning brightly/you are me/gentle scars that refuse to heal.

writing

Writing is a dark suicide, Duras said so.

Some people say that I am good at telling stories, so I won the first prize, which is outstanding all over the country. Actually, they are wrong. I can't tell stories at all. I'm just good at cutting myself open bit by bit and then telling them everything about me bit by bit. I will not be a good novelist, because I am not used to telling other people's stories. Even if I want to write about a hardworking farmer in the Zhu Dynasty, I will still blame myself in the end. Even when I write the heroine, I am used to telling the story in the first person, constructing a good framework, and then filling my own flesh and blood bit by bit. This state needs enough tension to last.

And I am a Gemini, so what I write will have a great contrast. I am a person with dual personality, and obviously, Xiao always tells me that he can't tell whether I am a sunny person or a person who is used to suffering in the dark.

I live alone in an old house near my school now. At night, I always sit in front of the windowsill and write a lot of words until my fingers start to twitch. Small ah said I was a desperate person. Sometimes I sit at my desk and watch the shadows of branches on the curtains outside the window, swaying like sign language.

In fact, I want to live a truly peaceful life in the future, do a normal and stable job, find someone to love, get married flatly and live in an ordinary house. I think I will leave my writing life and this displaced life one day. I just need to be a good husband and father. I think: happiness in your hands should be simple and transparent. Just like two geese, flying slowly across the sky together, so simple and so happy.

I have always been a complicated child, and many people say that I am difficult to understand. So I smiled at them. I am a person who often laughs today, but I am not always happy. Many times, when I am sad, my tears have not come up and my smile has climbed to the corner of my eye. I am angry with the people I like, but the people I don't like smile at them.

Until one day I found the pleasure of writing, so I began to write constantly. It's like chasing black happiness blindfolded.

The hand of the river/the throat of the night/the bamboo house hanging on the moon/who cooks sake for me/those burning bamboo slips/those blooming wounds/and my Gemini/one here/one there.

I am such a child. I am honest and don't lie. But if one day you meet a child looking up at the sky in the street, it must not be me. Because when I look up at the sky, no one sees it.

It is said that the world is a very good novel website, which is worth having.