How time flies

The weather in June, the expected heat is very aware of the delay of current affairs. This city in this season, some people feel pity. In the impetuosity of life, some small delicacies have become a luxury.

Time is as expensive as gold in some people's hands, and as humble as mud in some people's hands. And I was inexplicably at a loss when I was holding on to these days. Meet with D to go to Shaanxi Libo, from ancient times to the Qin and Han Dynasties. From broken tiles to finely carved gold and silver, each piece reflects the wisdom of immortals, which is amazing.

Of course, I can't describe its greatness and profundity, but I think more about what we are looking forward to, what we have lost, and whether people create museums to display human wisdom and remind us of our own forgetfulness.

The ancients said that one simple bowl of food and one gourd of drink is enough. Simplicity breeds great wisdom. What humans tend to ignore is the most important.

What I most marveled at was the totem on a pottery pot, the freehand brushwork on a tile, the carving on a tripod of bronze, and the ancient people's intentions and intentions to life that I saw in these shadows. They won't miss the beauty and details of every life. Each bowl and comb should be decorated with its own belief and aesthetics.

In the early morning, Weika walked upstairs gently, and the concrete floor was rough and cold. Luan's room still exudes dim light. Some of the lacquered tables are littered with things, dusty discs, half eaten biscuits, pencils, water glasses, and a half turned French novel Balzac et la petite tailleuse chinoise》， There are some micro cards that may never be understood. Of course, Luo An may not be able to understand them, but she likes to immerse herself in the inexplicable and ignorant state. Luo An slept heavily, with sweat beads on his forehead and frowns. The light casts a shadow on her face, and you can see the light hairs on her face. Weka envies such a stable sleep. In many such times, she is always unusually sober and alone to digest all kinds of disturbing sounds and flustered reverie from the dark night. The window of the room was half open, and the Weka went to the window. On a dreary summer night, it was dark, only the insects were chirping in the countryside, and there was no wind. Micro Casso closed the window, turned off the light and returned downstairs. So the whole house fell into darkness again. After sitting alone in the stairwell for a while, Weika was still sleepy and bored, so he had to lie back in bed again and force himself to sleep.

The lane turns yellow and leaves the setting sun behind

Green Bamboo Wants to Show

Shocked the bird in a panic

Black tile

But the new clothes are painted with neon

Twilight

Only time left to sit alone in the empty room

Step up, black bricks and black tiles and the former gate tower. It's the present whitewash.

Quiet and peaceful streets, old people resting, children playing, women chatting, students in a hurry. Come and go, shuttle constantly, the constant is the setting sun

Sometimes I immerse myself in the world of movies, every character, every scene, every piece of music, every dialogue, every turn,

The vivid story unfolds into a life story. None of this reflects our life more or less.

However, the screen belongs to the screen. Even if it is full of the shadow of our life, they usually live a more detached life, and the rest of these audiences continue to return to the ordinary, and taste the loneliness of their own after people leave.

But those spirits at least teach us something to think about. Therefore, I am happy with this immersion and subtle observation.

Sometimes, a common road can be very rich

A lazy place has finally created a lazy person like me

College people are too independent or too alienated. They go their separate ways after graduation without any nostalgia. They are decisive and determined.

It is the reality beyond the ivory tower. We just have to.

The high school student record has always stayed with me and followed me everywhere. Now go around and come home again.

In fact, I seldom open it, afraid of seeing the eyeful of things and people changing.

A sketch book on white paper, each page is elaborately designed with all its own art cells

Leave everyone to scribble freely. No affectation, write with your heart and record with your heart.

Does everyone think that high school is more fulfilling when they think back?

China's education system makes thousands of children go to the wooden bridge to kill each other

But now I really want to thank it for the irreplaceable and indelible years in my life.

We pursue our dreams in high school, and we face reality in college

Only these pictures and words bear the weight of years, and the experience will grind and shine

Shanzhai works: a painting imitating several meters, which is carved out by oneself with gouache. As a college souvenir, I gave it to Z

In the rush years of senior three, I lay down under the high stack of books every day to pick up these things, and I never tire of it.

In the era of crazy love for posters, the youth's green onion had already passed away from his face, and the computer was also very humiliating. Only half of it was displayed

Too beautiful things are always hard to touch. They are brewed like newborn babies, pure and fragile.

So we can only hide this deep in our hearts, like burying treasure, because it is so precious and unique.

At noon, I had a dream, a dream about the sky

It is a person who often dreams. Every time he opens his eyes, he always forgets or only has a few pieces left.

Today is the same, but the blue sky in my dream shocked me. Yes, I can't find words to describe this kind of blue.

Transparent, pure, deep... Just remember that the following is the outline of a city, and the whole picture is occupied by this blue

This dream gives me blue. I think I really failed to take the camera.

Maybe I have refined the meaning of this little dream, but at least I see the beautiful scenery in the dream.

Remember someone said that dreams have no color, is that so.

I often think that half of a person's life is spent in sleep. So if we spend half of our time dreaming all kinds of pure or interesting dreams

So is our life at least half happy?

Like to see the sky, transparent sky. They are so magnificent or show an incredible blue

Recalling the Japanese drama "Calling for Love in the Center of the World", the heroine's hospital bed was covered with pictures of the sky at various times

What do they symbolize? The beautiful world outside the hospital bed, their incomparable love, and the enlightenment of life? All right

Therefore, I am grateful for this small dream, which will constitute half of the beauty of life.

The silhouette of characters under the sky is a perfect combination and freedom

The sky after rain when hiking, cotton candy like white clouds

Rainbow is the exclamation point of the earth and hope

A path near the Binjiang Park. Things have changed for so many years. I clearly remember taking a winter scene at the same place last year

It's another year in the twinkling of an eye. The grass is sprouting and the river is overflowing. It looks like the river can't hold its own

In March, cherry blossoms are in full bloom. Here are the withered and yellow reeds, which are growing tenaciously day after day to infiltrate the baptism of water spray

When passing these two houses, I once commented that this cloth scene is really suitable for the image of a hanged woman. The bleak figure swayed on the high turret, chiseling the heart of every passer-by. However, the gap between imagination and reality is reflected here. When the old house is shaking to a drunken distance, there is still no thriller story that stimulates the nerves, or I don't know it. But you can see there are three or two peach blossoms outside the window. Maybe it's also an old and mottled romance


The pictures taken are full of flowers. The reflection of floating light, where the breeze passes. Is it the coolness of the river that blows back and forth or people's disturbing concerns?

The southwest is dry for months, and the land is cracked. However, the small town still has a few days of chilly drizzle. At noon, I went to the post office to retrieve Dangdang's package in a smaller uniform with my savings. I am very satisfied with this article. A copy of "Hou Hei Xue" has great weight. I don't know when I can finish this Chinese philosophy

The book "Marry a Tibetan Man" in the middle is a gift. I thought it was just a small magazine, but it was a book with a price of 24 yuan

The messy desk is very empty. At this time, all the people are gone, and only I stick to it. Boredom, helplessness



So force yourself to read. At least in this complicated world, we can find clean words

One day when I was sorting out photos with my mother, I inadvertently revealed many black and white photos of them in the 1980s

I am not deeply attracted when photos are spread on the desktop. Unlike our current photos, colorful and flamboyant color photos do have fine black and white edges. It is a thick feeling to hold them in your hand. There were people and things decades ago. There were pictures of my mother's classmates in the same class at that time, and there were parents when they were young.

Suddenly I saw my parents at that time. They were born in an era of great social change in China. They started from scratch and experienced hardships. Till now, I have devoted everything to this family, and I love it selflessly. Looking at their parents when they were young, they used to be like us now, full of vigor and vitality. Now, when the years begin to erode their time, I still feel like an ignorant teenager who can't understand their unhappiness.

In those years, my mother's health school classmates gave each other pictures. I accidentally found that the parents were in the lower left corner. But I can only sigh about the time and remember it attentively.

The old photo album at home, which was in my memory when I was very young, decades ago? Some things are forgotten carelessly, but sometimes we need to remember them. These photos of the eighties make me fall in love with that simple and innocent age.

Young parents and friends, the father in military uniform was also a handsome young man. The age when one man joined the army created two most balanced friendship camps, comrades in arms and classmates. But now few people have comrades in arms, and classmates are no longer as affectionate as they once were.