City of the sky city of the sky
The castle in the sky smells as bright as the sun.
City of the sky. Such a flashy fantasy.
The sun began to wander in the sky. Just like our youth once lost its way.
Clouds fluttered with the lightness of marshmallows. This is the dream of a group of people all their childhood.
That sunny afternoon. Those who forget the time and place.
The sun is flooding. The sky is full of cities.
The light twined like a vine, and blossomed one after another, one after another.
Beautiful dream. Castle in the air.
We are all just a group of children exiled by youth, constantly wandering and eager to be placed. Singing pilgrimage all the way, looking for the legendary way to heaven.
We have nothing, we are so scared that there is only one dream left.
Heaven and earth are mysterious and yellow. The universe is vast.
On that sunny afternoon, the world had only harsh colors. However, in the universe hundreds of millions of light-years away from the castle, darkness flooded one dream after another, and a group of unknown creatures seemed to have no support at once and fell in droves. Still in the dark, I can't see anything, including the flowers and water in the dark.
How different it is from hope.
The light here is still dazzling. Sunflowers turn for a while and finally return to the original point. It's like walking around, but my memory is still blank, just a lot of dreams. Then the sunflower was silent in the face of darkness.
How different it is from hope.
We are all children exiled by youth. We have nothing, we only have the barren extension of our dreams.
There is a melody in the city of the sky at a height of several thousand meters. Colors show off their arrogance. You can see it.
What you see is not necessarily true.
There is a multidimensional world between that place and us. We can only see a little of the line between two points. There is a line on the surface between the two lines that has never been noticed in our dazzling light.
Between the sky city and us. Cross this line.
Eye contact is within reach, and the distance is illusory. Even if there is no Qianshan, there is endless desolation between the lines, there is no so-called end, and there is no so-called beginning.
Singing and finding, maybe now is the beginning.
Singing and finding, maybe not far ahead is the end.
The legendary sky city leading to the castle is quite different from our dream.
We are children exiled by youth. We have nothing, we are so scared that there is only one dream left.
We are a group of children who can only write. Fuzzy description of strokes. The description is complex and barren. Only what can be seen by the naked eye can be drawn in red.
In the dream, these words can bloom on barren land and build a road to the sky one by one.
In the dream, the child is fast and slow, walks through the end of time, and finally reaches the sky city with flowers like water.
But only in dreams.
But we are a group of teenagers who can only write, live in exile and chase. Closely intertwined with hurricanes.
Wind and youth.
Wind and youth.
It's like making an agreement with the wind in my last life.
Like a teenager swaying back and forth in the monsoon.
Teenagers in the city of the sky.
Sometimes I'm scared and don't know what to do. Just like the sunshine outside the window suddenly disappeared, the sky was only pale. There is no sky city, no vine-like sunshine, no dazzling colors.
Children can only keep writing, and then fold the letter paper full of block letters into an airplane and fly in the air for a long time. It's like losing a kind heart
Fell asleep again.
I opened my eyes when my face was hot. See the harsh light outside the window again.
In Changjiang No.7 Middle School, the child said that he closed his eyes every day until Qizai disappeared from sight, praying that Qizai would come back to life after opening his eyes. So Qizai really came back to life.
I covered my face with my hands and went to the window, praying that the city of the sky was by my side. However, letting go of the hand is desolate everywhere, still hanging there, so far away.
Can only continue to write.
A talkative teenager.
A teenager far away from the city of the sky.
That's how I look at the baby. You look up at the castle in the sky again and again, and then you are silent.
So depressed and looking forward to it. Cute and pathetic.
Then gently pour out the legends I don't know.
So serious, no one is watching.
Your empty talk, my stumbling alone.