I have never had a cat. Cats look so cute and should be fine to keep. When I was a child, I saw a neighbor¡¯s mother cat give birth to many kittens. Their hair is soft and shiny, and they look cute and cute. I really want to raise one. But then it didn't develop.
When I was young, I raised a dog with yellow hair. It was given to me by my grandmother. When it arrived at my house, it had grown very tall. I tied it to the yard with a rope, but it kept barking, and I was very upset. The little brother who was older than me joked that she thought about it At that time, I didn¡¯t know what a dog was, so I went to my father anxiously and told him that the dog wanted a dog, but my father gave me a hard stare One glance, let me roll aside.
I didn't know what to do to calm the dog down, so I squatted beside it and kept comforting it. I don't know if it can understand what I say, I say a lot, but it keeps barking. I was getting more and more flustered when I was barking, and then I saw that it lowered its head a little aggrieved, with tears in its eyes, and it kept grabbing the rope with its paws. I, it yearns for freedom
After hesitating for a long time, I decided to let it go. When it was free from the binding of the rope, it immediately rushed out like an arrow that left the string.
It finally stopped calling. It got the freedom it craved.
At that time, I liked it very much and hoped to tie it with a rope, but things didn't go as I expected, it didn't want to stay by my side, it belonged to a wider world.
Later, I rarely kept pets, and I didn't have anything particularly important. I have always been passive. To accept and be accepted, to love and be loved, to hope and to be hoped wandering, wandering.
Recently, I have been having nightmares all the time. The things in the dreams are very clear, as if I am pulling away the most important part of my body. I never knew what was the most important thing to me, until the series of dreams, in which I kept struggling, struggling, and even wanted to cry, which really made my heart ache. The saddest part of the heart is reassembled, divided. Seems like seeing pieces of illusory shadows, I try hard to catch something, but I can't catch anything.
I opened the notebook on the dining table. The white paper is filled with my handwriting. Black ink blots like clouds. In fact, my handwriting is ugly, and I hate my own fonts. When I'm sad, I feel bad about everything I see. I think it's because of the cold weather that I've become lazy. very lazy. I just want to curl up in the warm blanket.
I was in the rainy weather, the temperature was a bit low, I was wearing sandals, trousers rolled up, standing in the bathroom, put the summer mat under the tap to rinse over and over again, the sound of water flowing mixed with the rain outside the window Sound, I washed very hard. It was the first time I did housework seriously. I was afraid that the washing would not be clean. The water was cold, brushed my fingers, and danced on the cold feet. I didn't think about how to dry the washed things. I just went to do one thing, but I didn't think about how to deal with it later.
I am obsessed with watching short videos on the Internet. Takes up a lot of my time. As a result, the novel I always wanted to write has been delayed.
I didn't write a single word. As for the beginning, I have denied it thousands of times. I don't know how to start to handle the plot more perfectly. How to write in order to carry on the story.
If one day I really have no inspiration, I can't write a word, my life is only left with these emptiness.
What kind of sweet words will be said between lovers. What do you call a couple? what is love I have been writing about such topics and repeating such stories, but I don't understand and understand them at all.
I think of that dog, and I remember that I named it Ah Huang, a very earthy name. It exists in my memory, many years later, I still remember it.
When I think of grandpa, I always feel that he is by my side, he laughs, he cries, he calls my name, he says that I am his hope, pride But when he died, I was not by his side. I didn't have time to look at him one last time, and he didn't have time to say goodbye to me. He went to another place alone and I will miss him. Later, I often dreamed of him, dreaming that he kept talking to me, I didn't know what he was talking about, but I didn't stop him, and listened to him quietly, at that moment, I just wanted to do A filial granddaughter.
My world is divided, divided into different parts by me. I play different roles in different parts.
The story does not end here.
I'm the one who creates the story, so I'm still here. Drink a sip of tea, chat with colleagues around you, take a look at the scenery outside the window, and listen to the music on your mobile phone.
The person is still the same person, the scenery is still the same scenery, but the artistic conception is different. Feel different, think differently.
I like it??Winter, just because it snows.
Just like I like nostalgia, just because I am too lonely, not because of hypocrisy. (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com