Like an incomplete dream overnight, the beauty that had been missing for more than ten years surrendered to me.
If there are only 90 minutes, it is obviously not enough. But there is no injury time in life.
You can catch up, but you can never catch up with the pace of time.
You can only watch helplessly as the hands of time pull away the annual rings of time.
At that time, you were so immature that you longed for the coast of Piacenza and imagined the gloom and depth of Sampdoria.
Liekaas’s natural sounds and the most sensational monologue are enough to drive you crazy.
There is never any sadness in your personalized signature, and it still carries that inexplicable pride. In fact, you have only seen a few games in Italy. You are eager to announce to the world that you will always have blue on your body. blood.
Your deskmate also quietly gathered around and told you that his belief is that he is a prince who likes to point his fingers in the sky. His favorite number is always No. 8, just because he has watched the movie "The Return of Card 8" .
Many times, someone is not interested in your "belief" at all, and is even disgusted. You retort: ??"This is my lifelong belief and has nothing to do with the world!"
Then it rained heavily. It's a playground like a vegetable patch. You and your equipment are neatly arranged and you can run wild as much as you like.
Even if you understand that your game may never be the same as your body, it is hopeless.
But you continue to yawn for 90 minutes after another. What you are looking for, or venting, here, I am afraid only you will understand.
At that time, it seemed that "lifetime" and "forever" were always spoken so easily.
Until that day. Autumn is coming to an end and the grass is dying. The broken football was thrown in a corner of the playground, and the boys who had chased her stopped running.
At dusk in the west mountain, when too many familiar figures are fading away, you return to this vegetable field again with the photos of your youth, and you smile. Must have laughed.
Your smile is very short. You were dazed for a while, but still couldn't help but put on your sneakers and sweat like rain again. Every fight and every move you make becomes very reasonable and mature. You win the game again, but with a group of strangers.
As the sky grew dark, they left one after another just like they did before. You wiped your face, lowered your head, put your hands on your hips, and breathed erratically. Just like Argentina's No. 10 losing the Hercules Cup under the stars in Calabria.
You might as well sit down.
Open QQ Music, and the first song I remember is Jay Chou's "Sunny Day". You hummed the prelude of a simple chord in a decent way, waving your hands to play the air in a silly way. Even if you didn’t know at the time why you didn’t need to press the second fret on the fifth string in your left hand when you started playing 4323.
Your list name is very special. They are all Jay Chou's song titles. Just right too. For example, the place where the friends stayed was called "We Headed North." That list that is often 0/1 is called "Can't Open Your Mouth" and it only belongs to the girl you keep deep in your heart.
You sleep on the grass and look at the stars with your hands on your hands.
You are thinking, JAY has sung love songs for so many years, but the owner of these love songs is definitely not Kunling, but where is he? Then I thought about my little broken acoustic guitar. Where is its other owner?
You have a lot of questions. Maybe the time has been arranged a long time ago, with absolutely different scripts interspersing our lives.
I don’t know your past or present, whether you are being chased or exiled, your pain and joy. But I'm sure your story is unique.
One person, two people, a group of people.
A road, a fork, a zebra crossing.
11th Road, bicycles, buses.
Jokingly speaking, if you fall in love with taking the bus, will you still feel that it is not lively enough if you sit in a Lambo the next day?
You know best how many stories you want to lay out next, but you are confused, stop writing, and are too lazy to write.
What was it like when you held a cold hand for the last time? When you drink the milk tea she gave you in the jewelry store with her, why does it always taste bitter?
Probably because it was sweet before, no no no! The wording is wrong, because the pain is not obvious, so if you are selectively blind, you are destined to be unable to detect it, or if you are careful, you will press the countdown from the moment it starts.
It’s okay, um, it’s okay.
Do you believe it? I don’t believe it anyway.
In the past, he was determined to serve the world for the common good. He is a philosopher who holds high the banner of "life is higher than art, and freedom of love is contradictory". But I can only think about the bright moon.
I know a paranoid guy who likes Xu Song very much. I still don’t have "Why Not" on my phone because I saw her crush on her with another guy on the way home when I was in high school. , this song is playing outside the phone.
I remember there was a delicate young man whose every step seemed to be followed by thousands of cameras. He held his breath and recited a sentence affectionately: The flowers bloom on the other side, and the flowers bloom undefeated.
In fact, I am used to it, my distinguished friends and distinguished people, dragons and phoenixes among people, shed tears for the cinnabar between their brows, and drink to drown their sorrows. He complained about his frustration, completely.
The most wonderful of them sometimes deliver a monologue that others will never understand, and the taste in it is like a fish drinking water.
Even if there is a ".", you don't know how much courage it took for him to write it.
The huge city is summarized in someone’s name. He came to this city just to say good morning.
He wanted to do a magic trick for her. He wanted to tell her why the crow was like a writing desk. . .
There are too many of them, too many stories to tell. I can only think about it in the middle of the night. If I laugh, I will make money, right?
The last one, he really has nothing to talk about.
Tonight, he smashed the dream, two. He knew he had no story, never had. So I asked him to talk about it, but he never mentioned it. He really couldn't remember anything. So he simply sat down, just like he was sitting in the vegetable patch.
"Regard regret as the arms of Venus, and life will be close to perfection." This is what the paranoid wrote back then.
Wong Kar-wai said: "When I see a mountain, I want to know what is behind the mountain. I really want to tell him that maybe if you go over to the back of the mountain, you will find that there is nothing special. But he will not believe it. With him I won’t give up if I don’t give it a try.”
He is an old friend, a very wonderful guy. A few nights ago, she said to me: "To be honest, I thought you would never talk to me again in this life."
In fact, I really want to tell her that no matter love or hate, I guarantee that you will never talk to me again in this life. They are all liars, and there is still a long way to go and we cannot afford to protect them.
We can say that you are not old, because your youthful smile is still fresh in my memory.
We can say that you are getting older, because time is ruthless and only time is eternal.
I sigh, I love every word of yours, but unfortunately I no longer have it.
When a gust of wind blows, the kite flies into the sky, praying for you, blessing, and being moved until your figure disappears at the end of the sea of ??people.
If I tell you, I am him and he is you. I don't have a story. His story is also insignificant.
So what’s your story?
It must be the most sincere, hot and unique, sincere and sincere.
Just like clear glass and brilliant oranges.