15 beautiful essays 100 200 words or so Thank you Hurry please

It is recommended that you find a lot of good articles in "Conscience and Desire" and "Living Like a Dog" in Heart Time and Space.

The only scenery ---text) Deng Kangyan.

Simple bags, heavy faith, generations on the road.

It doesn't matter from **, or even to**, what matters is the experience and feeling of walking. A road outlasts a person, and many people widen and lengthen the road, and the cracks in the sand and soil of the road are filled with love, anxiety, longing, and sorrow. People are vectors, a one-way line that does not return, and cannot be re-landscaped.

Heaven has created a password that will never be repeated, and your file is in your own hands.

From swaddling to old, a sigh of love.

I sat there quietly, hearing the sound of raindrops overhead, and at this time the sound was better than the silence, and I felt immeasurable joy in my heart, as if I had drunk the fairy dew and inhaled Daigo, and I had a great sense of fluttering immortality. This sound is slow and urgent, sometimes high and low, sometimes loud and sometimes heavy, intermittent, sometimes such as golden sound and jade vibration, sometimes such as Huang Zhong Da Lu, sometimes such as big beads and small beads falling on the jade plate, sometimes such as red and white hu sinking into the sea, sometimes such as playing the prime, sometimes like dancing thunderbolts, sometimes like a hundred birds contending, sometimes like a rabbit falling into the eagle up, I think about it, I can't help myself, my heart is full of joy, and the wind is born at the bottom of the pen. The dead words seem to come alive, and I seem to be overflowing with youthful vitality again.

I have rarely had such a spiritual state in my life, and it is even more difficult for outsiders to be human.

Excerpt from the essay "Listening to the Rain", by Ji Xianlin.

About 200 words, okay?

Last night's autumn rain wet my eyes, quietly watching people come and go, green leaves and red leaves, tireless heart, cruising in the forest of red maples. In the previous life, for the encounter in this life, I didn't want to cross the Nai He Bridge, I didn't want to drink Meng Po soup, turned into a drop of dew, hung among the maple leaves, soaked in the maple leaves, accompanied it to be lonely, and burned with it. And let the flame of that tree turn into a zither, let my three thousand green silk for the strings, in such a silent dawn, for you, play a song softly, red maple is the flame beating in the dark night, green silk is the mark of the previous life, you are the unforgettable life.

Only you can understand the sound of the kite, because I was not drunk last night, it was the splendor of the trees that woke up the dream that had been sleeping for thousands of years, and when I woke up, I still couldn't grasp the waiting love, and I couldn't see the moment of love.

In such a gorgeous background, if you have not come, this bustling eyes, this beating flame, this gaze can only leave emptiness and loneliness. Don't ask about the past life, don't ask about the next life, think more, just get drunk in the quiet dawn, with your attention and tacit understanding as always, smooth out the vicissitudes of my life, wipe away the sorrow of my dark night, let me feel the quiet beauty and delicacy of a maple leaf, the crystal and purity of a drop of dewdrop, and the tenderness and yearning of a wisp of breeze.

Autumn Rain