The early summer is cool, and the years are fragrant, like an altar of aging, lasting for a long time in Mika. In the years of singing, I walk and sing, and together with the words that jump from my fingertips, I walk through the wet and cold morning light, the sleepy afternoon, the fading dusk, and bid farewell to my youth in the afterglow of the sunset.
As time flies, youth is getting older, like the wind in July, hibiscus is in its prime, leaving a light ink in life and telling stories about you and me to the years ...
—— Inscription
In a lonely afternoon, one person's journey, loaded with fatigue, starts with strangers, and there are untimely jokes mixed with various dialects. Sitting by the window, I wanted to enjoy the beautiful scenery along the way. Unexpectedly, after I opened the curtain, I caught my eye with poplars in twos and threes, rugged puddles, which were a far cry from the green grass, flowers and trees, and the sky was sky-high. After a moment of disappointment, my good intentions were dashed, and I smiled and was relieved. How can life be satisfactory? Just close your eyes and outline the scenery and mood you should have at the beginning.
The sun shines lazily on your body through the window, and the cool breeze blows. The blue sky and the green mountains are extremely comfortable. My thoughts are running in the third-class wind speed of 17, and my memory is frozen in those slightly wet eyes. Life is nothing but negligence. More than 1 days and nights slip away from your fingers inadvertently. Last year, today, like in front of your eyes, there are pavilions, lakes and mountains, bustling crowds, as if it were yesterday ...
What slipped away was time, and what you remembered was memories. Just like the notebook with a glazed red cover and full of worries, it will be treasured forever. After many years, I will still remember that group of people ...
I will remember Tan Zhongke, who is outstanding and romantic. As outstanding as him, he has won a box full of various awards. The awards seem to have become a form to him, just like waste paper piled in the corner and ignored it, leaving dust all over it, adding the imprint of years. In his view, the only thing to be proud of is that his photographic works have been included in the "College Students' Photography Yearbook", in which his works have been published in a large space. People who know each other well think that Tan Ke's photos can reflect people's souls, and so do I. He gave unanimous praise to his amazing authority in the photographic technology industry, and people gave him the nickname "Almighty King" without a name.
I remember that Ma Shihua, who is handsome and confident, was as confident as him. Without any preparation, hundreds of people in the whole hospital went on stage to speak openly, without the slightest nervousness, and the judges in the audience nodded and praised him again and again. Finally, with overwhelming advantages, they easily won the grand prize. Or in the "college debate", the tongue bursts with lotus flowers and eloquence, which makes the defense speechless and "surrender." In his words, standing on the stage is "three or five steps to travel all over the world, and six or seven people are millions of soldiers". At least the momentum can't be lost, and I will take a walk.
I remember Du Shunjun, who was diligent and studious. He was as diligent as him. He spent 365 days in the library, soaking in books and records, and he was so drunk that he forgot himself. For him, nothing is more commendable than his calligraphy, which is characterized by raising a pen, spreading paper, dipping in ink, being calm and carefree, flowing in clouds, taking a long snake with a pen, in one go, and the end is "floating like a cloud, deft as a dragon", which can be called a drunken element and a strong face. If Mr. You Jun were still here, he would stroke his beard and say with a smile, "Yes, yes, this son's calligraphy is magnificent, his statutes are just like that, and he has taken shape. He has gained three flavors of my way, and I am fortunate in heaven, and I am not alone." In the calligraphy exhibition hall, the book with its pen name "Jinghong" and the calligraphy stickers occupy two-thirds of the exhibition hall. Running script, official script, cursive script and seal script have different forms, and they have become personal calligraphy exhibitions, and people have given them the nickname "Book God".
I remember that Wang Haipeng, a wise man, is as intelligent as he is. Every time a burly teacher with a huge brain capacity and extraordinary talent comes up with an incredible and rare problem in the world, and when we are young people, we dare to resist our natural beauty and do nothing, Haipeng, a "strategist", will say, "Mountain people have their own clever plans", and those who are eager to make profits will ask him. The "military adviser" will smile indifferently, and then dredging is cumbersome, simplifying it, and writing it in three or two times. We are happy to follow suit. The "strategist" has a saying, and the world is complicated. Investigating its origin, it is said that "the complexity is simple, the ingenuity is clumsy, the sound is good, and the elephant is invisible". With this kind of good words, we are deeply inspired, bearing in mind five minutes, and we have been doing the problem quickly since then.
I remember Yang Zhiyong, who is free and easy, as he is, with a bright smile on his mouth. People say that a smile is contagious, and I think so. Zhiyong's smile is the most attractive. It is mild at first, then the corners of his mouth are blown up by 45 degrees, and it slowly fills the whole cheek, revealing a white tooth, which is bright and cordial. This kind of smile is undoubtedly the most lethal to girls. I vaguely remember the love letter written by the girl who chased him. "Until today, I still remember his smile. It was an oblique dusk. I dragged my tired body and dragged my heavy suitcase into the school gate. When I looked up, I happened to meet that smile and smiled at me. At the moment, my mind was blank. What kind of smile was that? Oh, I know, it turned out that an angel kissed his mouth ... "This is the most touching love letter I have ever seen. According to this, just a few words and a brave smile can be seen. Appreciate his free and easy, carefree, but also appreciate his "Love O2O" smile.
I remember that He Qiang, who is well-read and knowledgeable, is as knowledgeable as he is. He is known as "Bai Xiaosheng" in astronomy, geography, literature, martial arts, skills, rituals and music, a subset of classics and history, official unofficial history, daoist magic, the Eight Diagrams Book of Changes, and Machamp's confusion of gods, from Yao and Shun's expertise in parallel, searching for gods in mountains and seas to fishing in the Yellow Sea, rice, oil and salt.
By the way, I still remember that Yu Xing, who has a musical dream, is as persistent and crazy as him. His enthusiasm for music is almost infatuated, and he stays up all night and forgets to eat or sleep. An acoustic guitar was given life in his hands, punk, rock and roll, raging catharsis. Several times, he begged me to write him a few words. I should have "gone through fire and water" for the requirements of a talented musician. But I know myself, I can't write words with my bald pen, so I politely refused. However, I couldn't bear his repeated entreaties, so I tried to write a few poor words and sentences for him, and I didn't expect him to pop up any immortal divine comedy, "This song should only be in the sky, but how can it be heard on earth?" It was his wish and saved my troubles. But he really popped up, and the words at his fingertips turned into notes and jumped on the strings. I always liked the guzheng, but at the moment he popped up the sound of the guzheng with his guitar, "Gong, Shang, Jiao, Zheng and Yu", and the five tones naturally flowed, connecting the two. In my opinion, Ji Kang's Guangling San is nothing more than that. It's the notes that jump, and it's the heartstrings that touch. It's well-deserved.
As for me, I'm the least brilliant person. I just use my poor handwriting to describe the passage of time, not to praise the quietness of the years, nor to explain the wonderful life of books, let alone the beautiful youth. I was born to write about loneliness, sadness, wind and rain, and put pen to paper to ruin. Perhaps this is my most true portrayal, walking alone and lonely on the desolate time buildings. Let go of your hand and put it in the east wind. If you happen to find this leaf full of my worries on the promenade in the afternoon, please remember to write your name. I believe that time will arrange for me to meet the most beautiful you in the most beautiful time ...
The duckweed lives, and there is no reason to gather and disperse. After all, it is a moment of youth that can't be held back. Maybe there will be a glimmer of hope in my heart. When time gets old, will it be there?
As before ...