Text | Aromatic sauce picture | Source network intrusion deletion
We often secretly look for resonance in other people's texts.
Even if we just find that a few words just happen to have some kind of fit with our hearts, we will be like a magnet meeting iron, tightly absorbing and carefully considering.
——— Oh, there is a silly child like me in some corner of the world, and "I" hurt her as much as "I" myself.
So, we read from the beginning of the article to the end of the article. From the surface into the heart, from the eyes into the heart, pushing us non-stop, from one feast of words to another feast of words.
So back and forth, "my" world seems to be no longer so lonely.
You see, in the world of words, she lives the same life as "me", has the same encounters as "me", and experiences the same experiences as me.
She is happy with the happiness of "me" and sad with the sadness of "me".
In other people's words, we can get the comfort and peace that we want in our hearts without much effort.
I admit that I am not looking at words, but by the profound analysis and interpretation of another "me" by others.
She is torn apart, pulled away, seen, released, healed and loved.
She can be ugly, vicious, abstract; she can be gentle, elegant, virtuous. She shows the most original and authentic appearance, without embellishment or reservation.
She was like another "me" who never dared to show it in front of people.
She is lonely like "me", she is stupid like "I", she is confused like "I", and she is persistent like "I".
The shyness of "me", the weakness of "me", the inferiority of "me", the embarrassment of "me", the conceit of "me", the purity of "me", the selfishness of "me"... She interpreted it vividly.
And these interpretations are the secrets that "I" want to vent but never dare to reveal.
She let "I" have a hidden heart, and gradually let go of her defenses. "I" identified with her every word, even, every punctuation mark.
What she said was what "I" wanted to say. Yes, "I" feel the same way she does. She seemed to have been spying on my soul for a long time, how could she know me so well?
The moment when this kind of thought bursts out, it is the most satisfying moment!
We always try to pursue our own shadow in other people's stories, and then sit in the right seat, as if we really became the protagonist of the story.
But when we talk to others about a certain past, it always seems that something will be missed, yes, we deliberately did it. We will deliberately turn those stories of sadness into rivers, secretly change the situation, and change the Lord. Even underscored, understated!
Then, when we are alone in the middle of the night, we will secretly write to ourselves in a locked diary, a sentence that has no logic and can only be understood by ourselves:
"I want to send myself a dream at dusk, full of the joy of the victors and the beautiful stars of the universe.
Sniff the fragrance of the rose in your hand again, and use all your strength to absorb the magical energy that never disappears.
Heading for the moon, even if you can't reach it, you can stand among the stars, and your smile shines brightly. ”
We are always used to taking other people's stories to comfort and enlighten ourselves, and the nutrients we draw from them are locked in the diary as a treasure and buried in our hearts.
On a certain day, there will always be a certain day, we are in the café around the corner, listening to the young people at the next table, talking about them, isn't that exactly their youthful self? Suddenly enlightened, and the protagonist at this moment is no longer us.
Hopefully, when we are a little older, we will return the "protagonist" to those who were once young in the past tense and not to us in the present moment.
I hope that after some years of baptism, we will return the "protagonist" to those who are in their youth or the elders who are well versed in the world, rather than the old-fashioned us.
Be brave and face every one of our lives in the truest form.
Let's be honest and strike at the most straightforward feelings in our own hearts.
The sunset, the ripples of the pen, "I" is the warmth that I have reached in winter.
END
The "she" I love is sometimes open, sometimes covered, sometimes half covered, sometimes trying to be unreserved and reserved.
May "she" become more and more gentle and full of strength, entering everyone's heart and smoothing those frowns.
May "I" read a thousand texts and know the world without being sophisticated, still retain three points of innocence, and accompany the breeze in bright days to withstand the long years.
@Fang Sauce said
#Life Insights##Word Control##Emotional Headlines ##情感美文 #