Recently, many things suddenly stacked together, the whole feeling tired, tired to numbness. If the whole body numb okay, but the worst part of it is numb. If you are numb all the time, also good, but actually like the TV network step by step, the intermediate race against time to insert advertising. The most sad is that advertising is their insertion can not seem to delete. This feeling of happiness or frustration?
Someone once said: want to travel away from home to achieve the aspirations of youth.For me, sometimes the desire for travel is to experience voice of the soul, full steam ahead like a quiet cry. Recently, in particular, to a person in a strange place, walk, you can enjoy a daze, give yourself a sufficient space and time, do not do anything, do not need to take anything.
(A)
Always loved the feeling of the road. Chance of a lens, a mind transaction, can be a beautiful success. Thinking about a long walk to the place of the mind, only some of flying through a dream, really beautiful, beautiful. Outside the mobile landscape, the mind is the flow of the landscape, there should be and the, sometimes with separation, but a fantasy one, they drop a little sense, it is a spiritual immersion, immersion quiet and ecstasy .
The road is silent, but never feel bored all the time and space is full, leaving his own. Like standing on a corner, watching the ancient building, the next tick in the rain, played through the history of the charm. Like watching the sunset sky, long, long time, and felt a splendid vagaries of the atmosphere, and some Zen. Emotion and looked like a desolate stretch of the trees, reading its story, its ups and downs, a distant, a longing, to the distant winding of the extension of extension. . .
This is a trip, a trip away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. This is a spiritual immersion, a self-close look. In the journey through thoughts and feelings, is a nature of the publicity and release.
(B)
One day, somewhere one kind of fate began to travel, soul trembled, but do not know for what? Full of dough and the feeling of moisture beating heart, so much of a life color, but also an extra music.
Bubbling flow of springs silence, from life itself for many years the understanding of deposition, but also from the heart are not sure of the destination. In jis journey, do not want to leave does not mean that will not leave. Want to say this, but based in the heart.Stubborn silence, a voice, mind can not resolve the songs. Self-silence, is a color, the color of the mind can not be washed.
Sometimes feel the sky is pale, the earth is lonely, rain is desolate, fallen leaves are misty.Exposure to one person, feelings of regret and grievances. Always believe that silence is a kind of love, a watch. But also acknowledged that silence is more of a frustration, an escape, a moderate, and moderate in a self-stubborn. Only a deep sigh immersed in a dream, tells a truth: moderate never be perfect, and some just too much hypocrisy, or too many defects.
Once thought that travel only a spiritual enjoyment, came after many, just understand, come to care about travel, I feel nothing in respect of only one kind, a distinct feeling empty, but not touch, bringing biting ice cold.
Some people say: Wei mountain silence is a moth, clear water is a silent spirit. When you love something, you will understand that silence is an appreciation of the extreme, language and feeling weak compared to how the language is a constraint, can not describe long-distance travel in Xinyu.
So, let mind quiet, still dreams at midnight when the heart is tender. So, let your heart filled with blessings, drift into a lingering and warm air in the endless love of years, can still believe in themselves.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Fragrance of the Road
Always in the bloom season of Sophora japonica fragrant touch to dim. Faint fragrance deeply touch the heart of God touch the nose touch, even if it is not fragrant home specialty, but also be my memorable childhood laughter and tears, the ups and downs and the crystallization of China. Childhood always like playing in a playmate in a bamboo forest will naturally Cantabile like season play. Playing in the shady bits and pieces of bamboo, the play book to stay in the grass covered with Yin Yin stone paths, and playing in a stream of golden flies the years. The way to the playmate house is completed in the shady trees, but it seems never to go finish.
At that time only a few small home through the dirt. Herbs on the road without shore of long dead, even if the two deep ruts on the hasty step or a shallow pit is also stubborn a "jack."Until now I still busy walking on that dirt road, also very glad there is no construction of new rural back, because I walked this road for fifteen years, half of the thirties, memories flowing. But have not heard from the leaves floated on the birds, and smell the faint scent.There are only faint whistle told me not wishful thinking. For ah, the total not to let it back?And I can only let my memory back, retreated to touch the memory of the abyss.
Sophora japonica, after all, a specialty of the Central Plains. The hometown specialties specialty is non-terraced fields on the expanse of the river bank Tada rape. After all, gold is also fertile ground storage hidden golden rape. Stored in the memory to the distant relatives, I always microwave rape Ao sail the sea, crossing the Golden time in Hong rape quietly flowing. In the Butterfly and Bee back in the golden position, feel that way have to go back fifteen years, crooked.
Grandmother's front door is a gravel road, now is a gravel road. She said that every stone rustle excited whenever they hear the voice of touch, I know I must have come - the time-tested method. But one day she did not find me coming. I startled her, then she wood, and a long wood. Her pupils are in the world become blurred. She said she did not hear that again and again, she knew she was older, I know - she can no longer take pride in the past.No longer. Grandmother's life dull, full of wonders, there is no big thing, no matter what, such as mustard. Like many rural people, students old and sick, weddings and marriage, like a one in a little mustard is micro wind blowing dust into the quiet water, no ripples, no trace. Eighty-five summer and winter can teach people to forget everything.
Memory of the late autumn road sleep with thick leaves, and numerous early winter northwest wind was like playing a local anesthetic like shivering, just like hundreds of thousands of butterflies Butterfly Spring mouth spray in the air swirling. But I still believe this is only the Korean romantic drama in the unit can occur in the scene.
Mr. Lu said: There is no way in this, people walk more they will become a road. Humans are changing the road are changing: from narrow to wide and short length, from mud to hard. Also from tangible to intangible. Different people, different achievements will be the road of life, different life trajectory. Just on the road, on the fragrance of the road, there are too many stories we vibrate, so that we fright.
Is the foot of a road, do not know the surrounding wilderness has experienced a number of mulberry, has no way of knowing how many filmed here Jingtao cliff. Fear of the number of wild waves. Years of teaching people to know how heavy the weight of it, the word in the rough for a long time. Xu ups out here, see the note in the annals of ancient China's familiar name. (Roof side of the county Yap has still proud of him.) Looked far ahead in the end should be. But centuries of sun, moon and sprinkling so filled with the story here.
Xia public if the joys and sorrows of today in this way he has re-take the rivers and mountains, is doomed to a life way different day. The old man told me, where the road is fairly good. Yes, this tireless road between heaven and earth to shop in the broad-minded, laid on the plains, laying in dwarf ICo. Some are barely leaning on the edge of a cliff, hanging on in the sluggish river. This is not some way, is leaning on the field of public Xia Jing, stick with the risk taken to the vine. Not insisted on leaving the cliffs, and there are thoughts which look at the scenery, only thinking about their own micro-life, three feet three inches up. I have long been established as early as the stone from the school read out the collection on the face of the bit in his pride, a few Chuxiong heart. He is to go their own ambitions, he wants to success is immortal classic, timeless legend. So, he went on the road. Use, such as rafters, such as peaks and exotic thin sketch of south China's long and arduous journey. Even if the line is so forceful, but not an ink empty, no one at the United States is little effect of the drug.
Walking alone. Wide expanse of land. Clear Jade glass days. Clean the Milky Way. The entire universe seems to have disappeared completely, altogether. A vague time. Pale.History seems to back the historical starting point, or into the end of history. But Xu is still walking, always walk the walk with impunity. Elusive and out of the descendants of altitude, out of the majestic history of the Compassionate large Toru - a navigable road in South China's day - a stalwart of life.
At that time only a few small home through the dirt. Herbs on the road without shore of long dead, even if the two deep ruts on the hasty step or a shallow pit is also stubborn a "jack."Until now I still busy walking on that dirt road, also very glad there is no construction of new rural back, because I walked this road for fifteen years, half of the thirties, memories flowing. But have not heard from the leaves floated on the birds, and smell the faint scent.There are only faint whistle told me not wishful thinking. For ah, the total not to let it back?And I can only let my memory back, retreated to touch the memory of the abyss.
Sophora japonica, after all, a specialty of the Central Plains. The hometown specialties specialty is non-terraced fields on the expanse of the river bank Tada rape. After all, gold is also fertile ground storage hidden golden rape. Stored in the memory to the distant relatives, I always microwave rape Ao sail the sea, crossing the Golden time in Hong rape quietly flowing. In the Butterfly and Bee back in the golden position, feel that way have to go back fifteen years, crooked.
Grandmother's front door is a gravel road, now is a gravel road. She said that every stone rustle excited whenever they hear the voice of touch, I know I must have come - the time-tested method. But one day she did not find me coming. I startled her, then she wood, and a long wood. Her pupils are in the world become blurred. She said she did not hear that again and again, she knew she was older, I know - she can no longer take pride in the past.No longer. Grandmother's life dull, full of wonders, there is no big thing, no matter what, such as mustard. Like many rural people, students old and sick, weddings and marriage, like a one in a little mustard is micro wind blowing dust into the quiet water, no ripples, no trace. Eighty-five summer and winter can teach people to forget everything.
Memory of the late autumn road sleep with thick leaves, and numerous early winter northwest wind was like playing a local anesthetic like shivering, just like hundreds of thousands of butterflies Butterfly Spring mouth spray in the air swirling. But I still believe this is only the Korean romantic drama in the unit can occur in the scene.
Mr. Lu said: There is no way in this, people walk more they will become a road. Humans are changing the road are changing: from narrow to wide and short length, from mud to hard. Also from tangible to intangible. Different people, different achievements will be the road of life, different life trajectory. Just on the road, on the fragrance of the road, there are too many stories we vibrate, so that we fright.
Is the foot of a road, do not know the surrounding wilderness has experienced a number of mulberry, has no way of knowing how many filmed here Jingtao cliff. Fear of the number of wild waves. Years of teaching people to know how heavy the weight of it, the word in the rough for a long time. Xu ups out here, see the note in the annals of ancient China's familiar name. (Roof side of the county Yap has still proud of him.) Looked far ahead in the end should be. But centuries of sun, moon and sprinkling so filled with the story here.
Xia public if the joys and sorrows of today in this way he has re-take the rivers and mountains, is doomed to a life way different day. The old man told me, where the road is fairly good. Yes, this tireless road between heaven and earth to shop in the broad-minded, laid on the plains, laying in dwarf ICo. Some are barely leaning on the edge of a cliff, hanging on in the sluggish river. This is not some way, is leaning on the field of public Xia Jing, stick with the risk taken to the vine. Not insisted on leaving the cliffs, and there are thoughts which look at the scenery, only thinking about their own micro-life, three feet three inches up. I have long been established as early as the stone from the school read out the collection on the face of the bit in his pride, a few Chuxiong heart. He is to go their own ambitions, he wants to success is immortal classic, timeless legend. So, he went on the road. Use, such as rafters, such as peaks and exotic thin sketch of south China's long and arduous journey. Even if the line is so forceful, but not an ink empty, no one at the United States is little effect of the drug.
Walking alone. Wide expanse of land. Clear Jade glass days. Clean the Milky Way. The entire universe seems to have disappeared completely, altogether. A vague time. Pale.History seems to back the historical starting point, or into the end of history. But Xu is still walking, always walk the walk with impunity. Elusive and out of the descendants of altitude, out of the majestic history of the Compassionate large Toru - a navigable road in South China's day - a stalwart of life.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Penetrate the soul of music
I would never lay it across the soul of music, deep-seated quietly listening to the melody.
No one from the concert have been so memorable, not a concert ripped through your bladder, it will make you hurt to the bone, it makes you love to not give up, this is the charm of regret, a people they can not bear to listen to listen to music.
Looking back on all of the music, just my memory of the hourglass, as time goes on, have been light out in my mind, only it stamped in my heart remain.
Slowly, accustomed to its rhythm, used to read it in the dead of night, to resolve its internal, but also used the time to listen to it in the frustrated sad talk. Gradually, it became my writing in the shadow.
You listen to that low and the female voice, sounded in grief in the music of strings, as if the dark night alone in a helpless ghost wandering the wilderness in the mountains, either cold rain hit in the face, all the pain are out of the hole in the music.
Sad music spoke the voice of frustration, the wound the soul in baptism, when the cries of regret sigh followed. It will not let you relax, will not let you pleasure, it can give, but sad when you make you more lonely lonely.
This symbol is faint music in your tears when you gave a hint of relief can relieved, the tears will be washed rushes your pain, your hurt, let you in the mood in the stirring music indulgence once. www.sanwen8.com
Sad does not mean lonely in this music, love seems so far away, but seems to be at your fingertips. Always set off in the hazy mood sultry mist.
Sad music stopped ringing, ringing stopped, kept repeating, at the moment, you hear the music in it?
No one from the concert have been so memorable, not a concert ripped through your bladder, it will make you hurt to the bone, it makes you love to not give up, this is the charm of regret, a people they can not bear to listen to listen to music.
Looking back on all of the music, just my memory of the hourglass, as time goes on, have been light out in my mind, only it stamped in my heart remain.
Slowly, accustomed to its rhythm, used to read it in the dead of night, to resolve its internal, but also used the time to listen to it in the frustrated sad talk. Gradually, it became my writing in the shadow.
You listen to that low and the female voice, sounded in grief in the music of strings, as if the dark night alone in a helpless ghost wandering the wilderness in the mountains, either cold rain hit in the face, all the pain are out of the hole in the music.
Sad music spoke the voice of frustration, the wound the soul in baptism, when the cries of regret sigh followed. It will not let you relax, will not let you pleasure, it can give, but sad when you make you more lonely lonely.
This symbol is faint music in your tears when you gave a hint of relief can relieved, the tears will be washed rushes your pain, your hurt, let you in the mood in the stirring music indulgence once. www.sanwen8.com
Sad does not mean lonely in this music, love seems so far away, but seems to be at your fingertips. Always set off in the hazy mood sultry mist.
Sad music stopped ringing, ringing stopped, kept repeating, at the moment, you hear the music in it?
Music, colorful gardens.
Music, colorful gardens.
It is in the moonlight, in the spring behind the house next.
I love music, love of life through the power of it.
I love music, love music and the natural essence of the devil, it is omnipresent active in the universe, there is in my blood.
The face of music, who is the most rational appreciation of quiet, you will see the garden under the moon, is shining with beautiful sheen, this is the music.
Years of water, people, ah, you deep into the music, the Kingdom of it, will hear the sound of birds Pina wing, hear the water gurgling from life.
Music is the sea.
Stroke jumping waves in the sea breezes to appreciate music, you excited.
Into the music, surprised to find himself discovered.
Embrace life, close to music, and let the universe every note into a beautiful wreath.
Grateful for the unlimited nature, accompany our growth, our out of a lack of language.
Grateful for the unlimited music, use our simple and robust attachment, opened up a block of barren heart of the countryside.
It is in the moonlight, in the spring behind the house next.
I love music, love of life through the power of it.
I love music, love music and the natural essence of the devil, it is omnipresent active in the universe, there is in my blood.
The face of music, who is the most rational appreciation of quiet, you will see the garden under the moon, is shining with beautiful sheen, this is the music.
Years of water, people, ah, you deep into the music, the Kingdom of it, will hear the sound of birds Pina wing, hear the water gurgling from life.
Music is the sea.
Stroke jumping waves in the sea breezes to appreciate music, you excited.
Into the music, surprised to find himself discovered.
Embrace life, close to music, and let the universe every note into a beautiful wreath.
Grateful for the unlimited nature, accompany our growth, our out of a lack of language.
Grateful for the unlimited music, use our simple and robust attachment, opened up a block of barren heart of the countryside.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Musical taste and aftertaste of coffee
Coffee, a can and wine famous "art", the type of coffee as much as has become a culture, it is with wine only difference is that people who really understand them, to products to which the unique taste, the content , and they become friends. Life is a cup of coffee, you will feel bitter, hard to swallow, add the sugar, the taste will be good, but maybe people do not really understand it added anything to drink is simply the most original taste, then drink is still food for thought.
Not drink coffee, always have a lot of fantasy to it, as the first coffee smell from the mouth before the taste of it, really sweet, but after a drink, but found no rich as sweet as others that have may just be bitter and sour, life is also the case, did not try to not have too many feelings. Started as a simple, always original.
When the first taste of coffee and then drank the second oral product of the moment, seems to feel that unique fragrance of coffee began to distribute from the body, the following make you feel the music, only to comprehend what is post-traumatic stubborn after the price.
The following are some pleasant music can bring you back to childhood, carefree space inside that home. Best in the warm afternoon, basking in the sun, blowing warm air blowing from a distance, close my eyes, accompanied by the sweet aroma of coffee, enjoy the sun, music, and those sweet memories.
Not drink coffee, always have a lot of fantasy to it, as the first coffee smell from the mouth before the taste of it, really sweet, but after a drink, but found no rich as sweet as others that have may just be bitter and sour, life is also the case, did not try to not have too many feelings. Started as a simple, always original.
When the first taste of coffee and then drank the second oral product of the moment, seems to feel that unique fragrance of coffee began to distribute from the body, the following make you feel the music, only to comprehend what is post-traumatic stubborn after the price.
The following are some pleasant music can bring you back to childhood, carefree space inside that home. Best in the warm afternoon, basking in the sun, blowing warm air blowing from a distance, close my eyes, accompanied by the sweet aroma of coffee, enjoy the sun, music, and those sweet memories.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Jeff Bridges follows his 'Heart' to music
As a high school senior enthralled by Bob Dylan, The Beatles, James Brown and surf-rock, he started Wednesday night jam sessions that continued for 15 years. He sang, played guitar, wrote songs and assumed his passion and abilities would lead to a career in music.
Explaining the professional path that left those ambitions sidelined for decades, Bridges, 61, resorts to typical understatement.
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"Well, I've been making movies," says the prolific showbiz veteran with 65 films on his résumé and five more in the pipeline. "I had success with acting, so I went that way."
Bridges grins broadly and adds, "But I always carried my guitar with me."
Quiet devotion and woodshedding finally led to a broad public breakthrough for the troubadour side of Bridges in 2009's music-driven Crazy Heart, a springboard for his self-titled major-label debut on Blue Note, coming Tuesday. It's not his first album. Be Here Soon, a shambolic set of rock and soul, was released in 2000 on his own label to little fanfare (3,000 copies sold, according to Nielsen SoundScan). He contributed several tracks to the soundtrack for Crazy Heart, co-produced by T Bone Burnett and Stephen Bruton.
Both resurface on Bridges, as do songwriters Greg Brown, Bo Ramsey and John Goodwin, Bridges' pal since fourth grade. Bruton, who died of throat cancer in 2009, wrote first single What a Little Bit of Love Can Do. Burnett drafted his crackerjack regulars, including keyboardist Keefus Ciancia, guitarist Marc Ribot and drummer Jay Bellerose, and such guest vocalists as Rosanne Cash, Sam Phillips, Benji Hughes andRyan Bingham. The latter's Crazy Heart theme, The Weary Kind, won an Oscar, Grammy and Golden Globe.
"It seemed to be the season for this to happen," says Bridges, who won his first Oscar for portraying Crazy Heart's Bad Blake, a washed-up country star. "This album came out of that experience in several ways, especially the material. A lot of great songs were written for Crazy Heart, but there were only so many slots."
Crazy's roots reach back to the 1980 Western Heaven's Gate and Kris Kristofferson, who introduced Bridges to Burnett. Their enduring bond proved pivotal to the Crazy project.
"I took a pass on Crazy Heart because there was no music attached to it," Bridges says. "Then Bone got involved. So I was in, but I felt like, 'Oh, my God, am I going to risk dropping the ball?' I had some reservations."
A year away from movies
His worries were groundless. The film and its Grammy-winning soundtrack were warmly received, as was Bridges' recent showcase, sans the Blake mask, at L.A.'s fabled Troubadour, where his family, Burnett, older brother Beau, friend Jackson Browne and sundry glitterati joined enthusiastic fans. He was introduced by Quincy Jones, who licensed Bridges' original Lost in Space tune for the film John and Mary when the actor was only 17.
"When an actor sets his sights on fronting a band, it can often be a cringe-worthy affair,"Variety noted. "Ego ends up trumping talent and the music can leave much to be desired. This isn't the case with Jeff Bridges, who … seemed completely at ease holding a guitar and commanding the audience with his laid-back, gravelly baritone and natural charisma."
Albums by actors tend to get bashed, often justifiably, as vanity projects (think Kevin Costner, Bruce Willis, Lindsay Lohan, Don Johnson, Eddie Murphy). Such a snap dismissal of Bridges would be unfair, says Phil Gallo, Billboard's senior correspondent for film and TV music.
"To make a sophisticated record like Jeff's takes time, and he carved out a year from movies to work on the album," Gallo says. "Crazy Heart made it plausible. He's saying, 'Here I was in fiction, now here I am in non-fiction.' There's some overlap, but there's plenty of Jeff Bridges that is not Bad Blake.
"It's a very pleasant album that's going to appeal to people who like his mature characters. This isn't an album The Dude (of The Big Lebowski) would make. It's more in line with his thoughtful roles. It's broader than country and could appeal to Americana fans."
Getting booked this fall on PBS' Austin City Limits was "about the smartest thing he could do," Gallo says. "That's a perfect audience."
The day before his Troubadour gig, Bridges, who lives 90 miles up the coast in Montecito, Calif., arrives at a posh L.A. hotel for breakfast casually clad in a white T-shirt and brown jacket, sporting a beard and wavy, thick gray hair that brushes his shoulders. He orders coffee, grapefruit juice, rye toast and scrambled eggs with onions, avocado, salsa and Tabasco.
"How about chutney?" the waitress offers.
"Interesting," he responds. "Sure!"
Bridges, admired in the entertainment industry as cheerful, candid, grounded and humble, heaps praise on his collaborators, resists carping and shrugs off setbacks.
When Be Here Soon bombed, "I was a little disheartened, but it didn't dampen my feeling for the music," he says. "It was great fun. I thought, 'Oh, I have a relatively high degree of fame. I can get this thing heard.' But radio is completely different from how I remember it as a kid."
Regardless of radio or chart response, Bridges considers the new album a solid success: He worked with ace players and won the approval of his three daughters and wife Susan.
"She's thrilled because she knows this has been a dream of mine my whole life," he says. (They've been married since 1977.) "She's so strong and so supportive. She's holding my kite strings."
To those who might deem the album self-indulgent, Bridges says, "Everything is vanity, isn't it? The guy who set the benchmark for the so-called vanity project is William Shatner. I applaud him for saying, 'This is interesting.' There's something wonderful about that. And caring what people say? I guess I do, but I try not to care too much. People don't like this crossover stuff. They want you to be one thing."
Multiple creative outlets
Bridges is anything but. He has dabbled in ceramics and painting. He's a cartoonist and published photographer.
"I remember trying to memorize my lines on location somewhere 20 years ago in a hotel room," he says. "I thought of a song idea and was picking on my guitar for an hour. I said, 'What are you doing? Get back to the script!' I used to get upset for being off-purpose.
"Now I realize shaking up my creativity makes all of it better. When I did Fearless, I found myself getting art supplies, big sheets of paper, and painting and going crazy with charcoal."
The hues on Bridges' songwriting palette veer from country to art-rocking Tumbling Vineand hallucinatory Slow Boat.
"There's a lot of Jeff in Bad Blake, real country music, but I'm very interested in his psychedelic stuff, and I would have liked more of that," Burnett says. "He's a stone California character, a real nature boy. The music comes from deep in his soul."
Bridges, an inexperienced recording artist, quickly adapted to studio technology and the producer's musicians, "who play in a very back pocket, behind the beat," Burnett says. "Most people, I'm talking about good singers, need a while to adjust to it."
Bridges likened Burnett to a director, "and I look to the director to help me transcend myself," he says. "I respect Bone's ears a lot more than mine."
Keeping it fresh
He drew other lessons from his Hollywood background.
"The trap often in acting is you do a first take and, 'God, that was good!' So when you have to do another take, you think, 'OK, I'm going to do it exactly like that.' Well, you can't. You have to create that emptiness again so freshness can come."
Bridges, whom the late film critic Pauline Kael dubbed "the most natural and least self-conscious screen actor that has ever lived," doesn't consider musical expression necessarily more personal than acting.
"Acting could be thought of as make-believe, fake, or it could be thought of as action," he says. "A lot of ingredients go into that cauldron, and sometimes real magic happens, too. That's alchemy — I'm not going to pretend to do that, I'm going to do that. And in music, you're creating illusion, playing a part in a song. You're not being you, but there are elements of you in there. It's mysterious."
Showbiz may have greased his musical wheels, but it also put on the brakes. Blame Sea Hunt, the TV hit (1958-1961) starring his dad, Lloyd Bridges.
"My father and my mom were so gung-ho about showbiz," Bridges says. "Every time there was a part for me in Sea Hunt, my dad said, 'Come on! You'll get out of school!' They didn't discourage my music, but they weren't as encouraging as they were about acting."
Now both callings beckon.
"You never know what the future has in store," he says. But he's certain Bridges isn't a swan song. "This is the tip of the iceberg."
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The past as the cloud
People walking in long life on the road, will have countless memories.
Past, is a loss of time, through the years is the period; past, a look at the books sealed and frequented the album, is a page could not bear to tear off the calendar and helpless.
Past, some memorable, often in the aftertaste, some painful, could not bear to look back; some sugar, sweet as honey, sweet like nectar, and some bitter race berberine, too astringent alum; some fleeting, fleeting , and some recurrent, long knows no boundaries; some have been indifferent, long forgotten, some memorable, unforgettable; some a happy, comfortable laugh, and some lose, heartbroken; some chance, occasional sudden , some fate of the doomed, doomed; some singing until dawn, smiles everywhere, and some jealously guarding the night, tears filled lapel; some exciting and boring without AIDS, and some spectacular, blockbuster. Some smooth, quick, and some hardships, ups and downs.
The past is the past thing, thing of the past is a story, whether past or story, in fact, like all things in the past is yesterday. Cloud, floating floating on the loose, smoke, blowing blowing gone, under the action of wind, clouds and smoke will dissipate, and in the long course of years, but can not erase the memories and stories. Many people are saying "ma'am" is in fact deceive ourselves, because in too many sad memories, and even woke up people in there who is willing to go in their own mind to find it this past ? Others are often more willing to be filed, so the use of the word ma'am, do a self-comforting, self-mockery. If the past is wonderful, can often make people laugh wake up from sleep, or deliberately in her spare time to pursue some of the past process, taste some past feelings, often between friends or show off, with many of these past who will definitely not, "ma'am," talks about the word, that he would "smoke" with the words "painting", which read as "past picturesque." Who does not want to "ma'am"? Who does not hope that "past picturesque"?
The content is very rich past, can not always be good, can not be all sad. No matter what kind of content, what type of memories, and make people more or less experienced some emotional sustenance to whom. In fact, many memories and feelings about themselves, and mostly related to emotional and difficult to let go of the past, almost caches in the soul, from time to time will flash before your eyes, come to your mind. Emotional memories are always people lingering, especially if you had deliberately and for, work hard so that you always remember the past is not erased. This is a fact that no one can deny, who can truly make memories smoke it? Even if you have a sad goodbye to the past and usher in a new life, happiness and joy will always accompany you, you can not do so past, such as clouds usually dissipate. So ma'am, just past the attitude towards the parties only, a hope nothing.
Ma'am, Ye Hao, past picturesque worth mentioning, after all, already a thing of the past, two different words, bears a different feeling, nothing more than a beautiful and sad differences; also represents a different mentality, that is to face and to avoid the difference. Past, whether good or sad, do not expect it to go specifically to the same as the clouds dissipate, it is not written on the blackboard on the Fen Bizi, rub board, there is no hint of it is true, after all, has happened, is specific people at specific times, specific locations in place, no matter big or small, good and bad, will stay in your memory mark, the same as deep seal engraving. Past, although sad, do not deliberately go to avoid it. In order to forget, but often difficult to forget. You do not want to mention others, but others can not be obscured by the mouth, should have the courage to face all the sad events of the past, when the right person is reading a biography or history. Because, even if you as the events of yesterday, before the tears flow do not let the clock back, let history be rewritten, more importantly, do not let that flow into a river of tears has washed away the road you continue to live!
Good memories, allows you to look back at what might happen for the future to provide experience; sad events of the past, but also allows you to reflect on the things that may be encountered in future provide a reference.
However, all past, the best think on it only occasionally. Not because it is beautiful, you indulge them, too infatuated with the beautiful past, you will lose forward direction, the loss of power struggle, should strike a balance, learn to smoke the picturesque memories of the past into indifference; Do not is sad, you get stuck, completely contrite past sad, you lose the courage to survive, discarded the hope of tomorrow, should take heart and strive to interpret the events of smoke into the picturesque past.
Past, is a loss of time, through the years is the period; past, a look at the books sealed and frequented the album, is a page could not bear to tear off the calendar and helpless.
Past, some memorable, often in the aftertaste, some painful, could not bear to look back; some sugar, sweet as honey, sweet like nectar, and some bitter race berberine, too astringent alum; some fleeting, fleeting , and some recurrent, long knows no boundaries; some have been indifferent, long forgotten, some memorable, unforgettable; some a happy, comfortable laugh, and some lose, heartbroken; some chance, occasional sudden , some fate of the doomed, doomed; some singing until dawn, smiles everywhere, and some jealously guarding the night, tears filled lapel; some exciting and boring without AIDS, and some spectacular, blockbuster. Some smooth, quick, and some hardships, ups and downs.
The past is the past thing, thing of the past is a story, whether past or story, in fact, like all things in the past is yesterday. Cloud, floating floating on the loose, smoke, blowing blowing gone, under the action of wind, clouds and smoke will dissipate, and in the long course of years, but can not erase the memories and stories. Many people are saying "ma'am" is in fact deceive ourselves, because in too many sad memories, and even woke up people in there who is willing to go in their own mind to find it this past ? Others are often more willing to be filed, so the use of the word ma'am, do a self-comforting, self-mockery. If the past is wonderful, can often make people laugh wake up from sleep, or deliberately in her spare time to pursue some of the past process, taste some past feelings, often between friends or show off, with many of these past who will definitely not, "ma'am," talks about the word, that he would "smoke" with the words "painting", which read as "past picturesque." Who does not want to "ma'am"? Who does not hope that "past picturesque"?
The content is very rich past, can not always be good, can not be all sad. No matter what kind of content, what type of memories, and make people more or less experienced some emotional sustenance to whom. In fact, many memories and feelings about themselves, and mostly related to emotional and difficult to let go of the past, almost caches in the soul, from time to time will flash before your eyes, come to your mind. Emotional memories are always people lingering, especially if you had deliberately and for, work hard so that you always remember the past is not erased. This is a fact that no one can deny, who can truly make memories smoke it? Even if you have a sad goodbye to the past and usher in a new life, happiness and joy will always accompany you, you can not do so past, such as clouds usually dissipate. So ma'am, just past the attitude towards the parties only, a hope nothing.
Ma'am, Ye Hao, past picturesque worth mentioning, after all, already a thing of the past, two different words, bears a different feeling, nothing more than a beautiful and sad differences; also represents a different mentality, that is to face and to avoid the difference. Past, whether good or sad, do not expect it to go specifically to the same as the clouds dissipate, it is not written on the blackboard on the Fen Bizi, rub board, there is no hint of it is true, after all, has happened, is specific people at specific times, specific locations in place, no matter big or small, good and bad, will stay in your memory mark, the same as deep seal engraving. Past, although sad, do not deliberately go to avoid it. In order to forget, but often difficult to forget. You do not want to mention others, but others can not be obscured by the mouth, should have the courage to face all the sad events of the past, when the right person is reading a biography or history. Because, even if you as the events of yesterday, before the tears flow do not let the clock back, let history be rewritten, more importantly, do not let that flow into a river of tears has washed away the road you continue to live!
Good memories, allows you to look back at what might happen for the future to provide experience; sad events of the past, but also allows you to reflect on the things that may be encountered in future provide a reference.
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