<   2013年 09月 ( 2 )   > この月の画像一覧

In August did not stop changing place

One day in August, the train stop in Renqiu station, I saw this small town deep red sunset, the platform is low, some old, only a small number of people get off, and then disappeared in the exit door, autumn is near, a quiet and peaceful town atmosphere, travel pictures, is often appeared in many movies塑身內衣.
Beside the young girl, in Hefei section, now going to school in changchun. I suddenly remembered when young, from one city to another city to read, that kind of work and the sense of drift, and the fate of the ups and downs of the solid earth tightly bound together, and we have to walk, arrived to shore.
The girl with a computer and a box of books, such a heavy burden, but her fullest comfort, on the train we talk, the girl asked me the impression of Beijing, I would like for a long time but don't know how to answer, because she does not know all the sadness in my life are scattered across the north of the city, but I know that girl the goal is clear, is a school in Beijing would like to study, like many young people in the city of longing, so nice, her confidence, believe that she will have a good future.
We in the West flyover goodbye, will each to the other, meet or farewell, already doomed. While the pace can not stay, necessary to go to.
People with the parallel life, slow, but we can't stop.
To leave a piece of the Inner Mongolia desert wilderness in the space of photos, lone bird habitat in sparse wood branches, Cong Bei has withered, the hidden in the sky, black and white color, the beauty of despair.
A friend gave me a message, envy I have been to such a beautiful place, I said, really beautiful, beautiful enough to let the life produces transient pain, and he had just graduated from University, get married and have children, to live, to busy all day, with little time to travel, so often complain to me.
I told him, the cold and hot, will be the same, this is our responsibility, is our final home.
Have been to many places, linger in each city, because to write many words, fill the soul required, sometimes, I will read the writing on the highest point of thinking, in order to complete it, a person go, give way, even if is wandering, but heart is warm, because I know, to meet the human and landscape, it will be a day in my writing, these are the experiences I have had, I also on the life of the memorial.
Maybe some people will read it, then listen to the call of the heart, give yourself a complete exile, perhaps this is a value added, because, we need.
The text can be through the breath, soul, also is a kind of strength at.
Of course, this is not what I can do.
Over 08 years after the college entrance examination, I began to plan to go out for a walk, mother firmly opposed, she told me, social blind mixed, deceive the haze at any time, this is not my age should try to understand, father, son grow up, the need to give him an exile, only exile would grow, charge or discharge, the consequences of the undertaker, finally still is him.
Departure, mother slipped me three thousand bucks, and told me not to let father know, I suddenly tears, unable to suppress the familiar move. At that moment, I suddenly understood, the love of parents, all the time, is a great deep, but we children could not perceive.
Often go to the bookstore to find some geographic magazine reading, such a book on Chinese each place scenery and the humanities are clearly introduced, and contains a picture, with brief and profound explanation, read it, the heart is glad, because thought that one day, I can pack, bring the SLR to travel, these have never set foot in place, what fun it is.
Remember once, I went to Zhejiang, blowing in Yiwu station square, the sky was a grey purple, I take Shen Mo posture overlooking the immediate city and pedestrians, suddenly remembered once loved a girl. I think, if she were here with me, I will take her on the top of the mountain, see the sunrise.
Young love sweet sweet, but no ending連褲襪.
So many years have passed, meet people, some disappeared, and some people still remain in the life.
Places to go, still keep the vivid picture, endless flow.
Everything did not stop.
[PR]
by fashiongirl | 2013-09-19 11:10 | gift

Mom and Dad love

"Why not call 'mother'?" His father asked him at the dinner table. He remembered the day is the beginning of the September, there was no rain position over several weeks, the house vaguely smell a smell of mold.

"Why cry?" He asked: "is she with?"

His hand suddenly lifted into the air, he went to see his son for several seconds, and let go.

He pretended not to see, Mentou eat, ear a long sigh. The woman, he thought, compared to how his mother吊襪腰帶?

One day three years ago, father had received official home. The woman called her mother ordered his pipe, he stubbornly raised his head, with a look to her, the woman was tall, with dark skin rough, wearing a dark brown plaid Dacron shirt, black pants swings the swing in the ankle, it didn't seem to be a woman. At that time father raised her hand, the woman stopped father said, the child is still small, want to give him a little time to adapt.

From the woman stepped into the door to their house that moment, he didn't love her. Once his friends said: "don't ask, see her uncomfortable, people meet for the first time or money, or to buy clothes, she could go, back a big bag of walnuts to our home, black hard -- and she looks like a kind -- say what oneself for baby, children eat more clever, I was forced to eat two...... I don't like her, one minute can also did not like."

My father works in the relatives of the architectural team during the construction of highway, away from home, home in the months and years pass by. Only he and the woman life. The woman responsible for taking care of his daily life, but he is more accustomed to one person. Breakfast is very poor, she has never bought him to be just perfect white fermentation as soft bread like steamed buns, steamed buns that were not really eat steamed buns, but she cooked steamed buns -- yellow, like the place for several days, just take a look at it is hard to swallow. And the old can not eat their own like chili, the woman said in his age children should eat chili. Lunch is worse, every day is the same -- garlic bolt fried meat, tomato fried egg, water cabbage soup, can add the sweet and sour lotus white. When he said the food is too salty, under the Dayton food will be as bland as eat chalk; when the protest has no taste, under the Dayton food will be extremely salty entrance. Dinner is rice porridge, black do not know with what, there is unspeakable taste. This makes him want to do not understand, why the woman even rice porridge can't honestly do? There's a rice porridge more simple thing?

The day after school early, he and the girl in our class go home together. The girl saw, pointing to a figure of garbage collection station said, that is not the man you home? He took the girl to the direction of the fingers, saw the man wearing a black and brown plaid Dacron shirt, carrying a basket carried on the back, holding a wire long clip where scavenged the garbage. Although never want to know exactly what the woman, or the woman what to have nothing to do with him, but he certainly said to the girl, not in our family, my dad to earn money for the family, is not about to descend to pick up litter. When the woman returned home, he had walked into the living room, a past hope musty sour taste will blow against our faces, which makes his heart leaping nameless anger. It also did not have even dinner, late at night only to bubble bowl of instant noodles for myself.

Later that day, he often eat out something to go home, go home, symbolic to eat it back to his own room, and shut the door, the moldy rancid taste but also in his nostrils.

The woman worried look at him, touching his forehead to ask him: "you this time is it right? Not too comfortable?"

He hated to see her one eye, pushed her rough manly hand said: "I'm fine you take care of yourself!"

The woman was surprised to see him a few seconds, he also gave each other, until she returned to her kitchen.

"It is past hope!" he thought.

The desk is the mother and his group photo, my mother was a tall, fair skinned woman, wearing a light blue flowers cheongsam, oval face, eyes gentle, good-looking hair even in the picture is reminiscent of a vibrant garden. She was in his arms, his mouth open, missing teeth, sweet smile.

What the mother is why leave us?

He didn't answer, eyes looked at the photos, the heart gradually float a fact -- I don't want to find the answer.

He began to hate his father, hate the woman, then hate. He thought, why this body also grow old? What time to get to school? How time passes so slowly?

University is good, he finally said to myself.

Finally to high school, he was a tireless machine, have to get to sleep until two in the morning every day. The woman may have to call my father. The father on the phone, he must go home for dinner, must eat walnuts every night, must go to bed early緊身衣.

His father asked him to do not want to do -- food hard to swallow, walnut and astringent and bitter, during this period of time to go to bed early is not possible. Think, think the woman holding a feather when the arrow is more hateful.

Anyhow, the college entrance examination, to the admission, away from home, he felt free, even the air is sweet.
[PR]
by fashiongirl | 2013-09-18 12:25


All time is no time when it is past.


by fashiongirl

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