The wind can't keep up with the pace of the clouds, dandelion floats with the wind and steps on the shoulders of autumn in winter. I closed my hands and prayed silently: I only hope that the world will go away and we will all be fine.
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Go out, sad a few times, and heaven remains our neighbourhood, each is well. One meter of sunlight passes through the cold barrier, projecting colorful brilliance. One day, we will break through the world of mortals like this meter of sunshine and outline our own glory. Before that, the people I love, remember to take good care of themselves for me, don't be sad, don't be sad, meet again one day and say with a smile: Great, we are all fine.
Whenever autumn comes, I can't wait for winter, because when winter comes, I can greet my loved ones openly, remember to wear more clothes, drink more hot water, eat more, and don't get sick ... Of course, I will also receive questions from my friends, some pages and some words. Whenever this happens, my nose will always be sour, and you will silently say, Look! This is what it feels like to be remembered. It's good.
The world of mortals is troubled, and it is not easy after several times. How many teenagers can't see their faces, leaving only a vague and curved mouth, smiling like a flower, pure and flawless. Turning around, the smile is still the same, but a little more playful, ironic and indifferent. And those passers-by will tell you that you have changed and then turn around and go home. Those real eternity in life will hold you affectionately and make you cry.
It is not me who has changed, but the harsh demands of the world on us.
Mountains and rivers are silent, which is the tacit understanding of mountains and rivers, because they will understand some words without saying anything. Qiwen, this is my home. Find a piece of pure land and become my own world. More people pay attention to words, but their hearts are getting more and more empty. They will pursue some kind of praise and change their original intention step by step. Some people say that your writing is beautiful and lifeless. You struggled for a long time, even lost interest in writing and began to doubt yourself. So now I can proudly tell myself that it is because I have too little experience. Instead of pursuing what you can't achieve at present, why not be happy and seek inner peace?
Sometimes I will call each other inexplicably and care about each other after the connection. Some people always wait a few seconds and lose patience. Some people always wait for the other party to hang up, look at the lost phone bill and yell at you. You are stupid, but there are tears in your eyes. Deep down, we are all saplings, eager for sunshine and rain, so don't be stingy with the care and warmth of the people you care about.
When it comes to winter, most people always think of the word cold. Yes, it is because it is cold that it is particularly easy to feel warm. Sometimes it's a ray of sunshine, sometimes it's a warm quilt, sometimes it's a cup of hot porridge, sometimes it's a greeting, sometimes it's a person who can warm his heart when he looks at it. It's still a long time, and we can be together for a long time ... before that, don't get separated, because I have a bad memory and I'm afraid I won't find it if I get separated.
I like snowy days, because a friend has never seen snow since childhood and always asks me if the snow in Jiangnan is beautiful. I've seen so many things that I'm always used to vague thinking. At that time, my answer was that I didn't feel anything, but I felt her disappointment. Now I always take a picture or two of her every year when it snows. She always smiles at the flat scenery. I told her that I would take her to see the snow in my hometown when I had time. At that moment, I saw her eyebrows shine like an elf. Until then, I will appreciate dancing snowflakes and dancing elves for her.
When we leave, we always say yes and often come and go. In reality, it is either too far away or the environment does not allow it. But we all know that there are so many people in the distance, and they will inevitably care about each other. Distance can't stop deep thoughts, and time can't stop those fleeting years of wind and rain. I'm always too lazy to bother to care about something. People always say it's stupid and simple. Looking back, it is indeed true. Now my life is simple, my thoughts are simple, and my appearance is relatively simple, but I am glad: I am happy because of simplicity.
The sunshine gradually rises, driving away the slight cold in winter, and I still wear my clothes tightly, because we agreed that I would be fine and not make myself sick. No matter how cold the weather is, there is always concern for each other. It's a long way to go in Xiu Yuan, and we just want to be fine.
The end of time, punctuality.
A large number of anthologies have been collected over the years, and all of them have been published recently. There are masterpieces from small families and masterpieces that are still popular today. Whether it is humorous or free and easy, or shocking or sad, it is just what you like. In my spare time, I always feel that too much time makes people feel bored, but I can't resist the running of time like running water. Inadvertently, it flowed through my fingers.
The pages of Zhang Ailing's anthology are yellow. I don't know if the head on the title page is her own, but her eyes look bright. Take it out when you see it, put it on the bed, and turn a few pages occasionally. Words are always sad, and Leng Yan in old Shanghai holds a firm insistence, rendering full of loneliness. At that time, Hu Lancheng must have loved Zhang Ailing deeply. He must have been deeply pitied and deeply loved, and he must have thought of "wishing for one person's heart and never leaving each other." If not, how could he write down the beautiful sentence "The years are quiet and the world is stable"? Zhang Ailing, who used to be so proud and so clear, could never resist a kind of acquaintance and understanding. How abrupt, in her eyes is no longer presumptuous. She was willing to be a flower as low as dust, but Hu Lancheng's love for her burned out in just a few years, and the flower withered. At that time, not only an infatuation faded, but also the shocking writing talent passed away. Only the so-called: love is gone, love is gone, and thoughts are gone. Things change and time flies. In just a few years, Lao Yan has parted ways. Those who used to have a hard time crossing the sea will only wait for change in the end, but they are so sad!
A few days ago, I saw such a signature at a friend's house: "The years are quiet, how dare I grow old before you come!" ! Words are so spiritual. When you see such words, don't think about their affectation. These words contain the most profane feelings. Whether it's a long talk or a few words, there are many joys hidden inside, many sighs hidden inside, and many sorrows rising in my heart. Maybe only a willing heart can understand a thing or two.
When I saw the signature, I saw a smart and quiet woman. It should be a rainy and colorful night. Leaning on the windowsill, wearing a long skirt and long hair, she quietly looked at the misty distant mountains, her eyes flowing and looking forward to smoking. Perhaps the years have climbed to the corner of her eye, or maybe there are a pair of spoony eyes looking back at the place where the wind and rain have stopped. Such a quiet space, such a worrying moment, that faint sigh, even if it is slight, has nowhere to hide. How many idiots and grievances have a sigh provoked? Who cares about paying for the fleeting time? "The wind blows the willow gradually, and the rain falls and the peach blossoms are scattered all over the world." Only typing, all regrets: years are quiet, how dare I grow old if you don't come yet!
Who wrote a touch of sadness with a shallow pen?
Who makes words bloom in the fleeting time?
Who bowed his head with tears?
Who sighs frequently in the middle of the night?
Such scenes, such people, such words, such time, and other charms!
Tap on the door of time, it's another year old. What have we kept at the end of time? What did you get? Or is something missing? Several years have passed, and I have been looking for it outside my dream. I have been entangled in this world for a long time, but my vision for the future has faded. It seems to be a feeling of numbness. Perhaps, in this complex world, not being sad or unhappy is also a kind of acquisition. However, the road has been extending under your feet. No matter whether it's smooth or bumpy, you should always walk through it, so that you won't waste your life! I only hope that the quiet years can always bring those beautiful things to every ferry in time, and I will never forget them as long as I look back!
Perhaps, there will always be a period of time worth waiting for in loneliness; There is always a scenery on the trip that is worth stopping for a drunken rest. Count the years in silence, watch the flowers fall, the wind blows Ye Er yellow, watch the snow dance, and plum blossoms push the branches several times. I am looking forward to the spring breeze and green willows, and I am looking forward to the geese coming home. In the sunset sky, keep a quiet time!
Fingertips crossed, leaving only ink.
Who will look at a chess game beyond the world of mortals after the chess player has left?
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The meteor crossed the sky, leaving no trace except the glory of that moment, and then fell into the unknown wilderness and declared extinction. That moment was beautiful, but no matter how beautiful and gorgeous it was, it was just a passing cloud, and everyone couldn't catch it. What's the use? In order to get this dazzling second that no one appreciates, is it worth it to use everything? I can't deny the courage of a meteor, just as I can't deny that the setting of the moon and the sinking of the stars are eternal laws. Maybe everything will have its own destiny, and it should have its own unique way and direction, so I can't understand other people's lifestyles. All I want is to be plain and real.
Life is too long and too far. In such a desolate time, we always have to face many distant scenes, and then we will be corroded by the dirty gas of interests, and we will never find the original simplicity again. Life cannot be measured by matter. In this world, just like Rolex is a material luxury, true feelings are a spiritual luxury, but life is so fragile that we can't afford so many luxuries. We can dream, but we can't expect too much. Those things that we regard as the most precious and admired will eventually come to nothing. The road we have to walk, looking at the flowers all over the ground, will we suddenly realize that those flowers covered by years will be blank?
Jing M.Guo once said that in this bustling city, all luxury goods are like the sound of a harmonica in the dark, which can be felt but not grasped. In fact, I think this sentence is very suitable for a person, a person far away from us-Genghis Khan. Everyone says he is a hero, and I have to admit that he is a hero, but he is only a military hero. He only knows how to shoot an eagle with a bow. He is just a walking corpse dominated by desire. I don't know if I can hear endless screams in his dreams. I wonder if he has forgotten that the blood flowing in his body is also bright red. He thought he was brave and expanded the territory of China to an unprecedented breadth, but he lived a normal life for a day. He's just a machine, a killing machine. He was very sad. Because he got nothing in the end, he just buried his life in the horse he used to be proud of. Years are long and time flies, but it is just a few black words left on white paper. What can we get from the fame and fortune we have been pursuing all our lives? All achievements are attributed to later generations, who are called storytellers. It's better to live this life flatly and fully.
We have experienced four seasons, too much prosperity and glitz, too much pessimism. The luxuries we want by hook or by crook will eventually run counter to us. The torrent of years hits the surface of the roll, but it is just a little ink left on the white paper. What's the use? With all the chess players gone, who cares about scrutinizing a game other than the world of mortals? The glitz we strive for is just a net of bondage woven for ourselves, and the epic we want to write is just a touch of black left on the page. When the paper crosses, only ink remains.