Like the hope of conversion, I am here, alone in my cell. Getting used to it is the feeling of darkness. Come and go, swaying in the wind of Meng Dong, there is no affection. Blog, already old, no old friends come. Like yesterday's peach blossom, I don't ask, and you don't have to pursue it, staying in the eyes of lovers. I know you. You're not just saying that. Your words are really sharp.
My computer has not been upgraded, but I must restore your story.
For a long time, I didn't settle down to read minds. It seems that people who travel far away are tired. Think about the past alone. There is no original me, only a new one. Only a new departure, only the loneliness of love, only one person can bear it, only eternal love as light as water, only the copying of calligraphy, only the understanding of reading, only the narrow adjustment of changes, only the persistence of diaries, only the ethereal comrades, only the way of meeting each other, only writing it down, will leave traces for my years to taste and entertain myself.
I don't want to write anything, but I have endless meditation. My wine, drunk in the past handshake, your years are old, but your mood has changed, but I have not experienced it. Fingertips touch endless mistakes, and when they pass by, they sing to each other. My midnight, publishing your poem, is so beautiful, just like your eyes, smiling and bending the moon unconsciously.
I'm not lying to you. I will wait for you here. Time didn't lie to me. He is waiting for me at the corner. In the meantime, I still cherish the leaves in my heart, just like love letters floating in the wind, leaving only faint scars in the wind, leaving few left.
I don't understand secular boredom. I shouldn't understand, that's parochial and blasphemous. My casino, only myself, gambles on time, and I can't afford to lose, so I smell chickens dancing and race against time. What does the hesitation of waiting have to do with me? I have to move on. On the way, I met you and realized it together. In this life, I have crossed mountains and rivers just to meet you.
One day alone, drinking tea, reading, calligraphy and playing the piano. A person's years, meditation, daydream, loneliness, elegance. It seems that there is nothing in the world, just like Master Hongyi's seclusion. My world is not frozen, only an ethereal white beard shows endless happiness. Loneliness is the song of life. Loneliness breeds a poet, or music and beautiful words flow at my fingertips. Don't ask where my lover has gone. People who know me have not yet been born, and those who are born no longer know me. Too bad you can't sing. My field, fertile loneliness, I heard that love will come back in autumn.
When I hit the keyboard with one hand, I thought of my classmates, my hometown and my lush years. How can I comment? Your fate is unfortunate. How did you become so embarrassed? The ups and downs of life began. The scars in my eyes made me really understand the fragility of life. I am here, where is your health? I can't understand your pain, suffering and struggle. Who is your pillar and your blessing? For ten years, I sang and prayed for you, for my well-being and for my friends on the road, and prayed for a happy journey. I forgot everything else, because it was dark, I slept, you were drunk, you had no regrets, and your heart was the most beautiful.
The rest is a little melancholy. He doesn't belong to me. I turn on the light, I write down the dream, I am awake, you won't understand. Once! On the day Hongyan delivered the book, I was in the army, my triangular seal, my red memory, my army photo and my calligraphy. Haha, my smile used to fly on the road, just to find the dream lover. I burned all the love letters, and only God knows my passion.
The most beautiful, has always been a song. I'll write the brush strokes you took at night. The words in the diary record each other's feelings. Listening to the calm voice and heartbeat, I know that the world is full of tenderness and love, and there is a happy home in the twilight of my eyes. I will come back, my Po, my buttonwood, my fields, my jumps, my lights, and the bugs under the streetlights. My thoughts are so flowing, my fingers are so light and my mood is so clear. Oh, where the hell have I been? Even I'm a little silent.
Here, there is only war and inner peace. I can't beat words, so I became a captive of words and served him. Here, there is no reference, only peace of mind. Waves, to me, are pale. At this point, the sunset has been a little tired and slowly faded away, and my morning light has just begun. How nice to be young! Where there is any trouble, only happiness and freedom, you ask me, where is my confusion? I said, he is old and no longer an opponent. I killed him.
Only when you are alone can you understand the preciousness of time, and only when you are alone can you listen to the heartbeat of time. Where did you go in the season of love? Looking around, people are rootless grass, floating in the wind everywhere. My heart has roots and is firm.
The mobile phone is asleep, so quiet. Today is Sunday. It's rare to be so free. The quiet world is so beautiful. Life is like summer flowers and silence is like water. Peace of mind brings wisdom. Time has always given me more than that, and my epiphany and persistence have sharpened my character and my will, because I am here.
I want to read a book. Don't disturb me. I want to sleep. Don't disturb me. I want to drink tea, please don't disturb me. I want to meditate. Don't disturb me. I'm leaving. Don't disturb me. I want to be alone. Don't disturb me. I want to go alone. Don't disturb me. Only one person knows how to practice.
Only today is the most beautiful day.
Please stand up straight.