In the beautiful festival, Tanabata, between legends and ideas, in the glory of mythology. Starlight is charming. Today, I woke up on a morning as white as porcelain and looked up at the thick fog outside the window. ?
A foggy world, buildings with vague outlines, trees with vague gestures, like the spread of smoke, like the shallow singing of sound. Foggy days make people feel that life is unreal, and it seems that nothing can't be untrue. Everything, you can't catch it, they are making fun of your eyes, and everything can be lost inexplicably in an instant. In those moments before you can understand. ?
Tanabata, a day that had nothing to do with me. I still spend such a wonderful holiday with a sweet heart. ?
Twenty years of silence, I inhaled through my nose. ?
Twenty years of glorious years, exquisitely poured into my blood, between my heart and ventricle, bound to the end of my body by greed. ?
On this day, we have no reason to be sad or complain. Get happiness and enjoy it quietly in your own time. The pain of loss, let's burn a sheet piling for it to commemorate that immature memories of youth. ?
I am confused, but I don't want to sleep. I am lying in bed alone, with my feelings, to deliberately cater to this day that has nothing to do with me, so as not to waste it. After all, there is a lack of such a beautiful festival. ?
I don't understand love, and I haven't found it. I met only a passer-by, and it was just a sweet past. I grew up in a hurry like a flower. Endless thoughts and memories, I have no love, but I imagine her. ?
I like the word "old", especially in love. Love is old, and whoever loves it is willing to bear the disease that day. I was moved by it. ?
People are hopeless. They like eternity, all beautiful eternity. And beauty can never get old, ugly and rusty. If love can grow old together, it is a rare eternity in the world. More beautiful because of old age. ?
And after all, I don't understand love. ?
Tanabata, it seems, is another kind of sadness and wonderful hidden behind dullness. ?
I can't understand the afterlife and this life of love, and I can't see doom and fate. But I believe in love and everything about her. ?
Love should be pure, although the real society has made her too secular, too often, love will almost become a material slave. However, love should be white, just like this foggy morning, you can't be clear, you can't tell the direction and distance. But love must be pure and cannot be defiled and profaned. ?
I'm speculating about what love is like. ?
It's getting dark, but it's not bright yet, because it's rainy on Tanabata this year. But behind the thick clouds, the cowherd remains the same, and the weaver girl remains the same. Once the stars were bright and sweet, whispering for many years, but unfortunately they did not belong to today's night. ?
We looked up and wondered which song of sorrow and joy had disappeared in the galaxy. Our sweet imagination, our sun and moon, our lovers, our own river, the nothingness on the other side and the infinity of time and space. ?
Therefore, this me, a single me, can also talk about a love for no reason in this beautiful festival; ?
Then, in a sweet mood, a gray haze rises, like something burning ... emitting a pungent smell. Really? Is it memory or love? ?
I woke up on this beautiful day, in confusion and surprise, in a beautiful myth, and in my indifferent mind on weekdays. Many strangers wake up-wandering among strange flowers and plants. ?
I don't know love, but I am stubborn and firm. ?
I don't need to ask the whereabouts and sources of love, nor do I need to miss and recall. I'm burning something I don't know. She is smart and beautiful. She died in a hurry before she was old. ?
I once wrote such a sentence in my diary: loving someone is persistence without thinking and measuring; ?
Loving a person is innocence that has nothing to do with sin and interests. ?
Am I judging the appearance of love? ?
I still lie down and don't want to wake up, let the clock tick, so time is wasted. Outside the window is the already familiar indifferent scenery. ?
Can I have enough courage to understand love? I don't understand love after all. I just liked her the way she used to be. ?
Can I understand? Love is simple and clear, and love does not need treatment. Love wears no makeup. ?
Who knows, how much elegance has been missed and how many red candles have been lit. Tanabata with a sigh of relief, everyone paid their own feelings to try to figure out the end of the world. ?
I didn't sleep, I catered to the sweetness of the festival, and I just lived an empty life. ?
Beautiful festival, I wasted it. ?
Who told me I don't know how to love? ?
Over the years, I have been indifferent to the scattered pieces of paper on Qixi night. .............................................................................................................................................................
Travel/Moon Shadow Shakes Red
How time flies like a spring water, brushing the petals of last month?
I always like to imagine myself as a dragonfly dancing alone. As long as I fly over my crystal wings, I can feel the unbearable lightness in life. We grew up in the garden of years, waiting for the carving of years, or, a quiet and prosperous.
At this moment, is it also a kind of happiness to imagine your old age?
Our ordinary life is a natural development between heaven and earth. As simple as a bunch of flowers and a fish. We came into this world naked, and when we left, we were innocent. We have no leisure to draw the circle of our own life, from beginning to end, or sober, lively and addicted lines.
I wish I could live in a room with water-blue curtains and not have to touch such a world. Feel the fading sunshine in the room, so pure and refreshing, like a huge blue crystal piled up in my field of vision. Happiness and evil outside the window, noise outside the window has nothing to do with me.
Thoughts slowly precipitate and fall into the most fragile and strong bottom. In fact, I sometimes envy cicadas. I spent seventeen years waiting for four days of recklessness. These four days can be used to appreciate, praise and expect. You can use these four days to imagine the world they have been looking forward to for seventeen years. It's worth it At least, their waiting is so naive and full of magic. Don't worry about death, because in their view, death may be like our human sleep. However, after our sleep, it is the sunshine of tomorrow. And they are unknown travelers.
I am grateful for these 20 brilliant years of life. Like clouds growing on the sea, they float on our heads. The feeling of all this may only be empathy.
Here, this is a completely strange place ... a vast sea of people, but no trace can be found.
Words in the diary: I know that the blank time is you; I know, the silence outside the window-it's sound. I will wait for many silent nights alone and fall from the silence. Like the dust of the universe, it instantly covered my young body.
Many times, I cherish the happiness of the moment and everything I have experienced. But time flies, but it's flowers, but it's the same place that goes by every minute. In the end, we can't cross, but we stare at every minute.
I always like to leave something for my day. Perhaps only these words can make me as happy as cotton candy when I am old, when my skin is hairy.
I like it. This is a child lost in the forest, flying in a gentle afternoon. ...
With the passage of time, the date became an eternal mark, and then a child called in my heart. Those dreams became clear and appropriate in an instant. Spring after spring falls in my eyes, let me witness my perfection. Stand in the wind and feel the drifting air, such as the endless dancing of catkins.
Tell my friend that I went for a walk by the school lake alone last night, and she asked me if I was in a bad mood! In fact, it is not when you are in a bad mood that you think of the lake and the silence of the night. This may be a kind of life, or it may be some irrelevant emotions. It will be a wonderful moment. I like the beautiful answer that peanuts are above flowers and dreams are born in dreams.
Write some wanton words and record your feelings and worries like a running account, which has nothing to do with anyone but your own affairs.
Days escape in the shadow of lights, and in the joke of the wind, I am ready to welcome the arrival of summer. ...
The signing of fate only makes us meet/the moon is red.
May, sunny days, shy moments, complicated feelings of gain and loss. ...
When I stopped, the single in the earphone circulated "Secrets I Can't Tell", and I pressed the keyboard again and again to record. Unwilling to record records ...
Lyrics: Maybe the sign of fate only lets us meet//Let us fall in love///This autumn////Only find this happy fragment/// ...
Our meeting is always sweet and sad. There is no clear cry, no bottomless dream and no quiet gesture. This is a quiet and fragile gesture. ...
In the sunny afternoon, happiness blooms in our Yuan Ye. In the silent years, aging has become a memory ... rising to the horizon.
This year's piggy once told me that we are all like children who just ate candy and don't know how to deal with what happened to us! I said that happiness needs to be won, and it is the most unknowable possibility in the future. At the turning point of this season, we should not be too dramatic. ...
After all, I am a child who just ate candy, so I should laugh happily. I am still the child who speaks with words, repeating these ordinary lives step by step, quiet and lively, just like all people.
After all, I am still the same melodramatic and hopeless. ...
At the beginning of May, I longed for the last coolness.
May is the wind, the ups and downs of the song, the temperature of each other's palms when we are apart, my lust for emotion, and a confused memory. ...
May is a minute, a time that has never been grasped, an inner pain and tenderness, a love, a smile, a white innocence and a helpless attachment. ...
May is a corner, a silence, a falling ash, a frown you haven't found ... and an unexpected desire. ...
Unfortunately, the sign of fate only lets us meet.
All your stories about wonderful nights are my painful answers. ...
I don't know who said that, if you sleep well enough, it will be a strange treatment. Should I have a good sleep? Bury all the wind, all the sunshine, all the laughter and bitterness in the dream.
Then I know that another period of time has passed by me. I can't say goodbye, I can only say goodbye. ...
Later, later, we described ourselves as strangers ... What a wonderful season, separating dates from memories, but time had to open our eyes and shed tears.
I seem to see the flowers in my heart, so careful, so cautious, with beautiful flowers, but I can't resist the passage of time after all. ...
Let those who should come, as promised, and those who should go, refuse without hesitation.
"Anyway, I will remember how much I love you ..."
Yes, there are moments when we regret it. As long as we have some memories at that time, that's enough!
Our city will one day turn into a beautiful dream created by a light fireworks snake, which is the most untouchable happiness.
At this moment, what should I embrace and love with my heart? After all, I don't have much time, so I have no scruples.
All I can grasp is this moment of breathing.
Memories and forgetfulness ...
I have written some articles myself ... I hope the landlord will adopt them ... Thank you.