My heart is in my hometown

What kind of life do you want, decorated with gold and jade, wrapped in rungra, or looking for a landscape, tea and smoke? When watching the harem drama of ancient costume, all the women who were just selected to enter the palace were clean and bright like the MORNING DEW in the morning, but later, power status and harem honor were like the Apple of Eden, the temptation made people stretch out their hands. From then on, step by step in the abyss and never return to the head. I used to feel sorry, but later I thought, that’s it. Since I chose it myself at the beginning, don’t look back even if I was wrong. It may be the reason for learning literature. In my selfish mind, I don’t agree with that kind of red dust rolling and prosperous world. I always think that one day I will find a small town, I built a bamboo house in the place where the mountain was accompanied by water. I watched the morning glow in the morning and could enjoy the sunset. Except for the working time, I must spend other free time, lying in the rocking chair under peach tree in front of the court, I slept heavily. Such a day really makes people think like this for a long time when they are young. So far, I have thought like this, it was not until one day a poem that I really began to think about what I wanted, you? The poem said: My heart is in my hometown. The landscape is attractive, but I always feel that the shortcomings are not satisfactory. However, there is a lack of peace of mind. Although a person is at ease, there is always a gap in his heart. The doomed person hasn’t come yet, so he can only be lonely first. I’m waiting. Jun won’t come. I’m not old. The girls around seem to have found their other half, and they are unscrupulously sweet. I also yearn for the feeling of being loved, but I don’t want to make do with it after all. The scene described in the novel has always been unforgettable. I wrote it down with a pen and engraved it deeply in my mind. It said like this: the man who slept soundly for a day woke up, the sky was already dark. Looking outside through the warm window of the kitchen, snowflakes were dancing under the street lamp. The room was warm and fragrant. I opened the casserole and took a look. The hot and white Air was blowing on my face, making people want to cry warmly, in Huang Chengcheng’s chicken soup, green vegetables, winter bamboo shoots, mushrooms, black fungus floating and heavy, and Partridge eggs may have a small white belly, full of a pot, full of color and fragrance, hot air in the dining room, the two dishes and one soup she cooked squatted on the table with joy. The two bowls of white rice were piled with tips, crystal clear, chopsticks in pairs, with the opposite happiness and round lines of spoons. Sigh, this time is really good. Because I have you around, I feel that every minute is worth cherishing and every moment is sweet. The hero was just an ordinary person, but he married a beautiful woman like porcelain until one day he finally couldn’t help asking why. The girl just smiled and said, do you know, good porcelain needs high temperature and rust to burn crystal glaze to lose penetration. Don’t you think there is a feeling of simple precipitation? The man didn’t understand, shook his head, and the girl still smiled gently, and her eyes were sentimental. Fool, how good are you? I don’t know. Why do you like you? Why? I just feel that I am very depressed and at ease with you. Xin’an is home. My heart is in my hometown, and you just make me feel at ease, that’s all.

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