There was a dove in aunt’s house, which was her grandson’s little pet. That little imp always called it after school. It was also fed with water and food. Everything seemed to be so harmonious, but I didn’t find it so pitiful until one day my aunt took Xiaobai downstairs to bask in the sun. It turned out to be a Flying Pigeon with wings cut. It was in a large bird cage, quietly, pecking or drinking water, or pecking its white coat with its mouth. Some kids of one or two years old would pull their mother or grandmother to watch this dove, and these restless kids would touch the feet of the dove with their hands, after a while, he directly grabbed its mouth, which made the poor little flying pigeon nowhere to escape and could only hide in the corner. The hostess of the Dove, that is, the aunt, even put the dove on the ground for those kids to catch. It could fly freely in the sky, just like other flying pigeons, but its hostess cut its wings cruelly, depriving it of the right to fly. It could only walk slowly on the ground, but was still chased by some kids. Later, the kids went home with their families. Aunt might have been busy with other things. The Flying Pigeon with broken wings returned to the Birdcage again, the Bird Cage was caught by the aunt under the roof of the garage. It was quiet, without big resistance or loud noise. It only drank water occasionally, pecked at food occasionally, and occasionally raised its head and glanced at its companions flying through the air. The Bird Cage is fishing in the air, There was a small piece of white in the Birdcage, which was a small white, a poor Flying Pigeon with its wings folded. Stay in this big Birdcage until the end of its life.

Like (prose editor: indifferent) the 30th year of my WeChat era

The year before last, my eunuch planned to buy a smartphone for him on his birthday. The main purpose was to teach them how to play WeChat, and let them…

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Everyone moves towards a better life through his own efforts. The answer to the consultation letter is just encouraging an existing…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 14, 2018)

January 14, 2018: Today, the temperature in Wujiang is relatively warm, not as cold as a few days ago. Yesterday and Today, Wu Jiang’s…

Be a person who never stops growing up

Teacher Lily coughed with a strong nasal tone when she was in yoga class. Maybe it’s uncomfortable, she has less demonstration action today,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 13, 2018)

January 13, 2018: Yesterday, my sister and nephew Little David didn’t come to the Dongwan village of jinjiaba where my mother and I stayed temporarily,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 12, 2018)

January 12, 2018: The day before yesterday, I said, “my mother will go to Kunshan tomorrow.” However, yesterday, my mother did not go to Kunshan…

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Lying in bed ready to fall asleep, listening to Wei Xueman’s “I am Really Love You”, suddenly had an idea, get up and turn on the computer. I haven’t written for many years. This function, which has been blocked by real life, always spreads to my heart leisurely in the middle of the night, especially when I hear the music of feeling. Over the years, it seems to continue to write something, but it is always unable to do so. It’s not old, not tired, not lack of thinking, unable to use words to describe a sense of unease, stretched out his hand to touch, but feel so far away. Articles without sense of reality are often cut off by themselves. Maybe that’s it. I was afraid that half of the writing would suddenly stop, and I couldn’t touch the direction of the continuation. I used to be talented and proud of myself, but now it seems to be dusty. I can only miss it in the dark night. But does missing represent losing? I don’t want it to be like this. I feel that I don’t know much, only these are left. But now I have no motivation to know myself in the past and the traces of words. The lyrics are sung, let me go with you, let me go with you. But where did you go. I was still moved by the moving prelude to the piano. It turned out that I had never forgotten that I could write something, but it slept for too long and it was not easy to wake up. Facing the present era, how much can I tell if I can adapt to it. I really want to go back to the past, not because the past is so good, but because the past has really been lost. So it’s hard to let go. In fact, there are a lot of things, but too much silence makes people ignore its existence. I used to think that the words and phrases at hand came naturally and stayed calmly without fading away. But I lost it, silently. Looking for it, I knew it was a difficult search. Maybe there was no chance and tacit understanding to fit, maybe it was lost. Close your eyes and recall the past, and try to find a way to wake up the feeling. Now, it’s really a little difficult, a little difficult……

Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the 30th year of my WeChat era

The year before last, my eunuch planned to buy a smartphone for him on his birthday. The main purpose was to teach them how to play WeChat, and let them…

Comments on the Chinese version of “worry-free grocery store”

Everyone moves towards a better life through his own efforts. The answer to the consultation letter is just encouraging an existing…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 14, 2018)

January 14, 2018: Today, the temperature in Wujiang is relatively warm, not as cold as a few days ago. Yesterday and Today, Wu Jiang’s…

Be a person who never stops growing up

Teacher Lily coughed with a strong nasal tone when she was in yoga class. Maybe it’s uncomfortable, she has less demonstration action today,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 13, 2018)

January 13, 2018: Yesterday, my sister and nephew Little David didn’t come to the Dongwan village of jinjiaba where my mother and I stayed temporarily,…

An emotional diary of a Christian (January 12, 2018)

January 12, 2018: The day before yesterday, I said, “my mother will go to Kunshan tomorrow.” However, yesterday, my mother did not go to Kunshan…

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