Essays like me - growing in clothes

What time is the Qingming Festival in 1987 on April 5th?

It started at 0:00 on April 5th. Qingming Festival, also known as the Grave Sweeping Festival, the Ghost Festival, and the Hades Festival, together with the July 15th Midyear Festival and the October 15th Lower Yuan Festival, are collectively known as the Three Hades Festival, all of which are related to the sacrifice of ghosts and gods.

The day before this Qingming Festival, I woke up from a dream. I was nearly twenty years old, and in my diary on that day I wrote down some unusual words, a little more than half of which I would like to excerpt below:

My dream has long since woken up, and in this moment of farewell or farewell, let me tell you a little bit of my own business. I don't have any desires myself, and I don't have **.

If there is, it is also designed for others for them.

I myself am self-combusting and extinguishing my own life, whether it is romance or love, dancing and writing, it doesn't matter what I want, it is just a way to show that life exists, just like you, unlike us, with braids, silent outside our circle, and leaving the school and going somewhere else. Perhaps, as you were most unwilling to do in your first year of high school, give full play to your female natural ability, give birth to another uncertain life, and print another superimposed figure under this sun. When I woke up from my dream, I was not lucky, but now I clearly know that the remnants of the dream are like a root armor on my body, and I can't get rid of it, but I am not sad and declining.

I only feel that the pear orchard in my hometown should not give me the clothes of my dreams, and I dare not wear his strange appearance to the world. So I'm going home too, and I'm going to put down a piece of wheat with that sharp-toothed sickle, and [replant the summer grain], so that the fat bread and the red weed will grow like me—clothed!

I remember that in my dream, I was not afraid at the beginning of my awakening, and I was still a little ignorant, so I thought of something to do. First it fired a warning shot at the poor fish, and then a shot blasted him away

I said some words that were left over from my dreams, heha! I really don't even have half a head? Why don't I want to think about why I should recognize a 'sister'? How can I, [such a self-reliant person], have feelings of admiration? I don't have any parents, let alone outsiders.

You say, 'That kind of affection is not precious,' but you must already know what a precious emotion is.

Maybe I'm in a dream right now, the world is so confusing, who knows if I'm really awake? So I want to ask you, with your money, to help me buy a copy of "The Interpretation of Dreams". But the dream, like the courage to wake up, burst as fast as I didn't dare!

I'm actually very pitiful, no youthful laughter, no happy pleasure, no encouragement from relatives, no affection from friends, no hope of success, I seem to be irrelevant to everyone, what is the point of such a life?

Fleeing back to the countryside, there is no new plan and courage, and there is a little bit of end to life in this crack?

In the inscription of "The Faint Moon", the third issue of the monthly magazine "Shandan" novel, Erton Qige said: "It is not the human being who struggles on the bitter sea, but the soul. "I'm the opposite.

My soul is not struggling, it is my flesh * body that is struggling, and my flesh * body bears a qiē for me, but my soul is in the middle of the operation.

I won't forget your gentleness and dignity and gaze, every time we meet, I am so indifferent, and the enthusiasm after each separation is so intense.

My soul has no body, and my body has no soul.