fter the Spring Festival and the major festivals. It is also a good day to remember the old days. If I compare the time I walked through to a starry sky, then the cluster Memory is the most special existence in the night sky. I tried to fill it deeply into my heart. This is not the star's embarrassment. It is a terrible whirlpool that makes people struggle and despair. It is a huge black hole that is not shocking at all. It��s a muddy marsh that is corrupt and stinking, and the grandmother has been preparing for the practice. Because the row is the play of Gao Ji and Wu Sanchun, the grandmother is more cautious. I didn��t expect that day. In the morning, the squad leader suddenly came to the door. He said: "The troupe is getting worse and worse. I know that everyone has had a hard time in the days, and there are not many bronze gongs in a few plays a year. "The grandmother screamed at the sound, not to mention. He said; "We have arranged for these plays, and the big guys are also tired of it." This year's row is another old drama..." Before he finished, Grandma sighed and shook his head. Just saying that I understood it, I closed the door and walked back to the room alone. At this time, I was at Behind the scenes, I saw a few touches of silver on her head, as if the change of the powerless dance of the grandmother, even if it was added, was so clear. In the middle of the night, the long sighs sighed into the window along the wind, and I turned to get out of bed. Looking at her through the door, she shuddered and took the old photos and watched it over and over again. Anytime, anywhere, unconsciously, when I got up early in the morning, I forgot to add salt when I made breakfast, so that the noodle soup was light and tasteless. In the afternoon, when I practiced, I actually appeared in a mess. In the wrong step, sitting in the wicker chair in the yard in the evening, I accidentally stabbed my fingertips while doing the needlework in the sunset. Grandma never looked so worried. I realized afterwards that my grandmother was only too deep into the play. Soon I understood what happened. I knew everything that night, and the new one was beautiful, and the wicker chair was rounded around the stage. The grandmother played a Lao Dan. What the class owner said that day? I also understand, but because the grandmother is acting too much, everyone has long lost their sense of freshness, and the grandmother is old. Yes, the grandmother is old, but it is better than the young girl who was in the 28th year. Is it only the grandmother who has a "high machine and Wu Sanchun", who is better than the grandmother? When he saw the high plane at the beginning of the spring, he also decided to take the high plane. Pain. A madness, a self-cutting sedan, the pain of the bones, unless it is a grandmother who enters the theater, who can play the curtain after the curtain call, she unloads the makeup home, and re-paints the mirror, finely traces She wants to dress up the familiar young Hua Dan. I look at the beautiful and awkward woman in the mirror, watching her painting a time to wipe away the cruel years. Time is easy to pass, Hua Hua is old, and she wipes it all away. All, no traces left, mentioning the jade hand, the slim blue finger is also like the ambiguity of the year Marlboro Red. I remember that the grandmother once said that although the same is the blue finger, but the unmarried woman��s blue finger in the play, Convergence, like the need to put Child, not a high-pitched gesture. The moonlight sprinkled on her, sprinkled in her gaze, and smiled with a smile. I saw it, my grandmother still seems to be in the photo 30 years ago. So beautiful, the makeup is always appropriate, and the troupe is old, and scattered. The white hair of the grandmother is slowly rising, the wrinkles of the grandmother gradually pull out the branches, and the grandmother��s body is getting more and more bloated to hide herself. She was hoarse and wide, and her voice was hoarse. Any song couldn��t be adjusted. She also became dull and huddled in the corner of the years. Even the smile seemed to be in the stage of the performance, and the stage was old. With TV and computer, where do the villagers still have to spend time and effort to see the live performances of this family? The ancestors have spent a lot of hard work on the hot and cold days, how many sleepless days and nights, How many years of hard work have been carried out, how fast it is, and it��s all empty overnight. Grandma has been singing in her life, but now she��s not even seen the stage, she can sing to whom, to whom Look at the village people without a word Not to mention a smell, as if that side of the stage promoter, staged on that side of the sub-stage clutch joys and sorrows, noisy laughing at the stage sub worrying about Newport Cigarettes Coupons, have never been to, so quietly away. Grandma sang a lifetime of drama, and finally sang to the end. In memory, she said to me in detail, she said that even if the basic skills are solid, then it is only a watch, just a thin face. If you want to be a good actor, it is not enough to be a watch. This kind of performance is the soul of the play. When you step onto the stage Marlboro Cigarettes, when the lights and the eyes of the officials are gathered on you, you are not yourself. You are the character in the play. This play is your life. You live in the play, you can't walk out, like a plain picture, you can't see others, you can't see others watching you, you don't have to think about anything, you are the woman in the play, the woman in the play, It is you. Grandma lived in the play for the rest of her life, and she entered the play too deeply. These memories made me afraid to be tight. I was afraid that the drama was old, my grandmother was old, and the drama disappeared. My grandmother, how can I feel comfortable and screaming, disturbing my noisy thoughts. Then the strong drum sound and the harsh electric spurt came out, and the music of the class rang, it was a song "Moves Like Jagger". The messy pronunciations and the whistling raps in the sound are all incomprehensible. I only feel squeaky. Standing in the corridor overlooking the distant sky, I suddenly realized that there were fallen leaves on the ground. In the past, the time was like a white pass, coming and going, sighing and sighing into the painting, a lifetime. Related articles: Newport Cigarettes