Nostalgic Prose (2)

Prose of the Old Times: Touching the Old Times

I wonder if it's because of age. I always miss some old things recently. Old tunes, old clothes, old stationery, even a worn-out old bracelet and a read old book can bring me incomparable secret joy and faint melancholy.

They have a familiar smell, a happy or sad story, and small details and traces that only they can read. Along those winding memory paths, I can always find my past self easily. The Bible says: What is visible is temporary, and what is invisible is permanent. Only memory is eternal and will never be lost.

Everything old is expressive. They will smile at you and cry at you. Always a word with temperature and emotion.

Once I dug out a skirt I wore when I was six years old in my mother's old wardrobe, which my father bought for me when I went to a meeting in other places. Lovely bubble sleeves embroidered with white lace. The sky is blue and quiet as blue and white porcelain; There is a big white magnolia flower on it, as if waiting for China's care. I think I must like it very much at that time, so I will wear it every day, face the morning breeze, step on the morning glow and listen to the sweet and crisp school clock, and walk through the young years day after day.

At that time, there was an old organ in the corner of the classroom, with old mottled traces. Every time the teacher plays, he has to step very hard to make a sound. The voice is dull and slow, like a person in his twilight years, and he can no longer play cheerful music. The teacher used it to teach us a song called Yu Meiren, which is the most beautiful and sad song I have ever heard. Now that I think about it, everything at that time was like a black-and-white photo, frozen forever, leaving only vague and melancholy memories.

When I was eighteen, I received a letter from far away. Just looking at the words on the envelope, I think it was written by a very educated person. When I saw the letter, it was brighter. On the yellow antique small rice paper, there is a word written in small letters with a brush, which is Xin Qiji's Jade Case. In the crowd, I searched for her again and again in vain. When I suddenly turned my head, I found her there, dimly lit. ? Such beautiful and subtle words, accompanied by the fluttering words like Youlong, are simply a work of art, and the edge of the rice paper is also stained with some ink-scented plum blossoms, which are poetic and fragrant. People get drunk before they get drunk. Of course, a heart has been gently opened and accepted by a soul who understands it. There have been days of longing and longing, times of singing and knowing each other, but most things in the world are fly in the ointment and it is difficult to get what you want. Without water, things are impermanent and separate from each other. Only this old notebook has accompanied me for the rest of my life.

Every time I open this dusty stationery for many years, I will vaguely see this most beautiful past. How many earthly years have I spent with the aloof and peerless plum blossom? With the growth of age, only memory, like ivy, keeps the green of life forever.

Years of habit, there is often a book by Wang Guowei at my pillow, which has accompanied me through many lonely lives. I bought it from the antique market more than ten years ago. Although it's only a few cents, it's genuine and the notes are translated in detail. Books are the closest confidants and understanding friends. Wandering for many years, I am in a foreign land, and I am like a bean, and it rains at night. When I couldn't sleep, I opened my book and began to read. The elegant rhyme of the old saying comes to my face, which makes me feel like a spring breeze, and my mouth is full of fragrance. All my troubles have been temporarily forgotten.

Maybe it's a familiar old song, maybe it's an old desk that has been used for many years, maybe it's an old photo, maybe it's old moonlight. It's all the scenery in your memory, and it's inextricably linked with you.

Some people say that the old days are a kind of beauty. I think she should be a classical beauty, with a gorgeous skirt and a peerless but lonely face. It's just that beauty ages easily and beauty is unlucky. Her gorgeous skirt dance has achieved the best in life. We can only look at her from a distance through the time tunnel. This bleak scene finally turned into a rain in our dreams, fluttering and shaking, how much red was blown away?

Rong Ruo said, "Gambling books makes tea fragrant. At that time, this was just a normal phenomenon. " .

Behind every seemingly ordinary old thing, there is a long period of poetry and the true meaning of life. Pick it up with a sensitive and delicate heart and cherish every shining thought. Then, no matter how old life is, we can always have a crystal clear and poetic heart.

Old Time Prose: Hello, Old Time.

There is a book called Hello, Old Times. The deep and shallow words in it are so plain, but they almost inspired your first half of life.

At a certain moment, I shed tears for the so-called * * * sound caused by the collision between the text that has been revised countless times and the line of sight.

Actually, I'm not being melodramatic. However, as a text that exists for the purpose of touching the soul, if it can't touch others and make people cry, then its existence is meaningless.

If it's just words, you can turn over a primary school Chinese book, which will be more vivid and interesting.

Today, I rarely watched the singer Ku Kuiji sing "Stars", which made me cry under the stage and myself.

Perhaps, if you do something yourself, even you can move, then you can move others steadily.

This has nothing to do with melodrama.

It's just that when a sound is added to a scene, an environment or a piece of music, even if you are calm at first, that feeling will come at once. At the same time, various gadgets have appeared to help you express this feeling. Like tears. Like a sad expression. For example, frown.

In fact, it is just to cover up a truth. That is, I just remembered the past. Yes, before. I think I should always bring up the past. Everything in the past, happy and sad. Crying and laughing.

But I don't think I'm addicted to the past. Although I have never answered my future. I just happened to think of the past. Because the so-called * * * sound is explosive.

Probably because I should miss the past.

I miss the past. I often miss the old days. Look through the old things occasionally and say hello to the old times.

In my rare cleaning activities, every time, I will pick up a book and read it with relish. Some are clear, some are vague. Some have been forgotten. Think slowly. Then clean things up and stop. But I like this feeling. Open it. Hello. Turn it off. See you later.

I think I will have big problems in the future. Because until the moment before I got married, maybe I was still worried about what to do with the textbooks I packed years ago, starting from primary school.

Discard, how reluctant. In other words, I must abandon the past. I have nothing to turn over and nothing to recall. I won't say hello again for a long, long time, old times.

I am a forgetful person, and I need something to maintain my feelings. Forgetting is better than forgetting.

I miss some friends, those who accompanied me and lost friends in the old days. Yes, I got lost a long time ago I think I still regret it ten years later.

Think about how embarrassed I was before. Now the vague memory can't make me feel as clear as yesterday. Therefore, I can't understand how I used to be so arrogant and take it for granted.

Perhaps, in the middle of the first half of my life, being afraid and careful about being nice to others is a temporary convergence. Because, to this day, I am still arrogant.

Just, fortunately, today's arrogance is still moderate. Before, I knew how to threaten and take it for granted. I can't believe I forced strangers to let others choose whether I quit or others quit. At that time, it was a matter of course. Now I will ask myself why. But then, it was so reckless. Of course. The ending should be lucky. I am the chosen one. But now I want to ask, why?

Maybe I hated myself, so I restrained myself later. The image of a half-gentle man has continued to this day. Of course, people who know me may know that these semi-civilized people have long been eliminated, or they have never appeared.

Those are all illusions of whitewashing peace.

After all, it is everyone's responsibility to help harmony.

I think of people who gave me encouragement and a kind smile in the past.

People like me have gone and will never come back. He is also an extremely indifferent person. Therefore, when we meet again occasionally, we will only say hello and take care in the old days.

Although, I said. I will care and cherish those who have left traces in my life, and I will miss them when I still have memories in the future.

I think I'm a contradiction. Or, it is another level of indifference. I only missed you in the past, but I am a stranger now.

I think, seeing you now, you are still speechless. I think. Just passing by. This is different, okay? This is a stranger.

I got along so well in one year that I had to be treated differently. It is this feeling that makes me feel very cold in the next year. I know what the gap feels like. But at last I stood up and let those who passed me coldly giggle in front of me and reach out to see what I had. Somehow I didn't know it was a victory. That was the most beautiful battle I thought I fought after many years. Then I turned around and forgot.

Looking back, I often miss a person who often sweats seriously. I think how difficult it will be. Will ask me, why not grow taller. Maybe my innocence and cuteness played some role. This is pretentious and narcissistic.

Meet after many years. It seems to have shattered all my fantasies.

Just met by chance.

Maybe those are so ordinary, but at that time it was so deep into my heart. Until now.

Especially because of one I still feel very affectionate, which can reflect that I have a special title. It seems. Look at that. Only I am called that.

I think. I think my name is too awkward.

I don't care. I am insensitive to the goodwill given to me by the outside world.

I feel lost every time I think about it.

Sorry, it's not qualified.

After all, I haven't been back.

After all, it's been years.

After all, I have grown up and you are old.

After all, it's really just a chance meeting.

It's just the feeling in those days, too strong.

That I won't forget it for a long time.

I think I should be grateful.

Thank you for meeting by chance.

This makes me unforgettable.

Bye, bye.

I think so. There will be no future.

I miss the old you and the old me around you.

Now, lost for a long time, we have nothing to do. I don't know where to start. How can you talk and laugh?

After all, the past is only a short and distant topic, and laughter cannot last long. There is no intersection now, and after greeting, there will be no less silence. There are more and more embarrassments.

Think about the past and look at the present. Maybe you will think goodbye is better than goodbye. There's a saying, Ben. It's better to miss each other than to meet.

This gap between the past and the present, if not bridged, will surely die with the beauty of the past.

What's more, I actually forgot the past. Perhaps, I only remember one person, but I don't remember what I said or did together.

The saddest thing is. Come here. Hi, long time no see. The other party only, oh, hi. Then I said to myself, well, who is it? I don't even remember.

In fact, the ending is not uncommon.

Stranger, there is no other way.

Some people are always passers-by

After all, it can only be passers-by

We can only, stop for a minute, leave a trail, go on, gallop.

Some growth can stand the agitation of youth, but it can't stand the dullness of the fleeting time.

There are many people passing by. Meet not far ahead, and separate further ahead. All, just pass by your life for a while, and then walk away for a lifetime. We'll even forget what it was like.

Turn around and live in peace.

No connection, no future.

Time teaches us to forget what we shouldn't remember, and it is inevitable to clean up what we hope to bury together.

Years have left us with old faces and gray hair. From shallow to deep.

The shadow of neural memory left by time. From long to short.

Very weak, I forgot.

Hello, old times.

Goodbye, old times.

Hello again. In the past, long time no see.