Find your lost prose.

Where have I seen you? Your smile is so familiar.

Ah, I saw you in my dream, in my dream.

Midnight dream, a burst of inexplicable panic rose from the bottom of my heart, began to jump up and down wantonly, clamoring for commotion, and was restless for a moment.

Who is the smiling woman in the dream?

It's you, it's you, it's you in my dream

Who are you, who am I, who is who tonight.

-inscription

First of all, ask

Mirror, mirror, who am I? One day, a woman with a dull face like a spectre who just climbed out of hell stood in front of the mirror and looked at the strange and trance-like shadow in the mirror, asking nervously.

"You are a coward." The low and calm voice of the mirror came from space.

"Is that true? Do I call myself a coward? " Some women can't believe it.

"Yes, you are as decadent as a timid deserter day and night, as chaotic as a walking corpse. Of course you are a coward. " A deeper voice came from the mirror.

"Ah, is this true?" Women are hard to believe.

"Is the guy named coward mentioned in the mirror really me?"

"If I don't call myself a coward, who am I?"

"Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? "

The woman asked repeatedly.

Your name is brave. Suddenly there was a voice.

"Who's talking, Mr Mirror? Is that you? " Mr. Mirror shook his head and made no answer. The woman looked around for a long time and didn't find who was talking just now.

"No, you are a coward." Mr. Mirror's firm voice echoed in the narrow bathroom again.

"My name is a coward, and who is a warrior? Where did you go bravely? " The woman looked at the mirror hesitantly.

"Where is the brave? I'm going to find him. "

"I'm going to find courage. I'm going to ask courage if you know who I am. "

The door closed with a bang, and there was a woman's hurried footsteps on the stairs.

Second, find

In the busy market, pedestrians come and go, and women go back and forth on Minyuan Road again and again, walking up and down step by step with their heads down.

I don't know how many times I walked back and forth. The woman finally slowly raised her head and stared unblinkingly at the gate of the University for Nationalities. Will courage stop at the gate of a university that you have never entered?

The river of Qingjiang River glows with clear light, and the banks where the river flows are towering buildings. Up and down the elevator, three or five groups of white-collar workers are wearing professional clothes and are in high spirits. Courage seems to be crawling in a busy and fulfilling workplace.

Among the mountains, trees are shaded and birds fly in groups. The woman sat quietly on the smooth slate, and there was a bunch of bamboo on the edge of the cliff in front, and the bamboo leaves jumped happily with the slight wind. The wild lilies in the crevice are still there, one blooms two or three or four, and the lilies are free to open. Courage should be in the flowers where the sun rises and sets, and the wind comes and goes.

On the desk in the corner of the bedroom, I don't know how long the book has been sleeping, and the cover has accumulated a fine layer of dust. The woman stretched out her long-lost palm, gently brushed away the fine dust and slowly opened the book. The familiar poems in the past became unfamiliar, and the warm and beautiful sentences in the text jumped word by word, as if they had fled to a distant place. They said that the woman's sudden appearance disturbed their gradually accustomed dreams. Courage seems to flow in poetry and warm and beautiful words.

What's your dream? The TV host is asking the guests. Yes, what is my dream? Maybe a brave figure appeared in my dream yesterday. So, today, where is my dream to go? Is wandering as far away as bravery?

Brave, where the hell are you? A woman tirelessly looks for you in her dream footsteps.

Third, run away

The debts are high, and they are paid off one by one, as if there is no end.

Every time I just expect a little improvement, as if I were about to see a little hope, I was immediately pulled back to a darker and deeper pit. I just filled in a pit, only to find that there is a bigger pit behind.

The previous days were not as brilliant as their classmates and colleagues today, and also reflected the embarrassment and embarrassment of the woman.

Honor, work, dreams and youth have been lost too much, as if they never belonged to them.

It's all your fault that you have accomplished nothing. Abuse and complaints poured in. Women's sky has been dark for so long that I almost forgot whether there is any other color besides black.

Losers, total losers. The word loser circulates in my mind.

I'm afraid to tell my parents and friends about the recent situation, and I always use nice words to express it.

I don't know how to talk to my friends on the phone, and I dare not answer the phone. When a phone call comes in, I am often afraid to avoid it, but I can only reply to a half-fake message afterwards.

I am at a loss every day, always looking for food to fill my stomach.

The log in q space is also gloomy and melancholy.

I forgot how to laugh, and my face was stiff and expressionless.

I don't know when I started walking. Back slowly. When asked by relatives and friends, you can only use a waist injury to perfunctory.

I began to stutter unconsciously, so I had to make up an excuse that my throat was inflamed and uncomfortable.

Squatting in the corner and crying countless times.

I can't sleep all night for countless nights, and occasionally I will wake up inexplicably when I fall asleep.

My mother was ill and hospitalized in a different place, but she didn't even have the travel expenses for visiting, or the sworn sisters quietly transferred the money to the bank card. My daughter hasn't paid back what she owed in hospital, so she gave a timely help. How to express a word of thanks? That is a little warmth that has always existed in the long darkness.

In fact, the woman knows that she is very inferior and at a loss.

Women know that they have lost their dreams, their fighting spirit, their self-confidence and themselves.

The woman said that she drew a circle for herself, and she couldn't get out inside, and no one outside could get in.

A woman knows that she is drawing a prison and trapping herself. She tried to escape, but there was nowhere to run.

The woman who can't escape has to look back again and again, huddle in the invisible cage in her heart, and live yesterday and today numbly, over and over again.

Fourth, encounter

When I was wandering on the Internet, I accidentally clicked on the banyan tree, registered my account and began to send some short and pithy words.

Then one day, I saw a club called Mohist Literature. Perhaps it is because I once played with Weibo people like Qin Cheng, Mo Dian, and kept the promise to protect that gloomy time forever, giving Mo Dian a warm feeling, so I have a unique affinity for Mo Zi and cast an article in Mo Pai with a tangled heart.

Add QQ group without club, enter the group number to search and delete. It will be repeated for one day, two days and three days. When I deleted it again, my palms were sweaty. A grind, add.

Perhaps it is the unique affinity for ink characters, or perhaps the fate makes the ink school very warm.

It was from Uncle Dongfang, Mu Mu and Beibei that I learned and understood Mohism. There are more people. With their encouragement and kindness, women know that they have found their roots again when they meet Mohism.

Unfair and imperfect articles have changed from publication to community recommendation, and those little blue peas are like talking lights, enthusiastically shouting for fuel. Suddenly, the dark sky suddenly had a different color, and a feeling of moving and satisfaction quietly began to spread in the corner of my heart.

I don't know how to write perfect words, just express my feelings or experiences at a certain moment, simply express.

Words come from life, and life is words. Don't touch anyone, just touch and warm yourself. Perhaps this is a spiritual and spiritual sustenance. Words and Mohism brought the numb woman back to life. She doesn't know how to hide and express her inner joy and gratitude, so let her say thank you sincerely.

The turned books are neatly placed on the desk. Xi Murong's poetry anthology and Zhang Xiaoxian's prose anthology never seem to go far. There are some stiff smiles in the mirror, which don't look too ugly on a thirty-year-old face. The bad things in life don't seem so heavy.

Meeting, everything is the best arrangement. Yes, it is the best arrangement to meet Mohist school in the world of network and writing.

Five, Ann.

Who are you?

You are very brave.

Who am I?

I am who I am.

Who is who tonight?

You are me tonight.

Who are you?

You are me.

Who am I?

I am who I am.