Night, quietly opened the curtain, outside the window, it began to rain in Mao Mao. Sitting quietly in the corner of the fleeting time, listening to the falling rain tapping on the window lattice, the tinkling sound is like a beautiful and affectionate woman slowly plucking the strings, sometimes gentle, sometimes lingering, pouring out full of watery tenderness.
Looking through the screen window, because of the night and rain, there is no noise in the street during the day. Occasionally, I can see a vague figure running around the corner of the alley and disappearing into the depths of the alley. Only the blurred lights stand quietly in the rain, silently watching the lonely streets. I don't know what kind of stories will be staged under the dim light, and I don't know if those beautiful stories can have a happy ending.
I don't know whether the longer time goes by, the weaker my heart will become, or whether it is just that my own heart has grown old in the fleeting fireworks, so old that I have lost my full passion and enthusiasm for things. More often, I just want to keep a quiet little world, lean against an idle window, read a book, write a few crooked words, or listen to a soft piece of music, and wrap Rourou Xin's package in the string sound like water.
The long vines of the pot of green radish on the bookshelf swayed gently with the wind coming from the window. It seems that every time you shake your fingertips, the time is shortened by one point. Ear up and listen carefully to the rain, just like time whispering in my ear. In an instant, those fleeting distant memories floated through the drizzle.
Some people say that on the stalk of memory, who doesn't have three or two graceful flowers? No matter how barren the world is and how miserable the fleeting time is, there will always be some scattered beautiful words and chapters full of warmth, which warm the meeting of years and slowly overflow the heart embankment in the quiet night, such as endless waves.
Pick up a pen, dip a drop of dew among leaves, and describe the warmth of the next year on an ordinary piece of paper, not to remember, but to pick up the fragrance left on the shore of time and resist the desolation of the journey.
How many times I fell into the world of mortals, how many times I bid farewell to pavilions. Maybe it's just an accidental meeting, just a simple look back, and the seeds of fate take root and grow sturdily in my heart. Those dull days, because of a concern, have become a beautiful and smart poem. Those stormy times, accompanied by a warm heart, are bright and beautiful in March. In the dull fleeting time, because of the affection and love along the way, it has become brilliant.
After all, she is a woman with deep thoughts on dust, and she can't be calm in the face of the years of circulation. I want to feel all the beauty in this world, and I want to taste all the flavors in this world.
Have you ever felt the beauty of those encounters, the natural connection in those words, from deja vu to infatuation, from budding green onion to green onion, and the fragrance emanating from those plain and graceful rhythms, have you ever felt it with your heart? I really want to use my life to write a beautiful encounter for you and play a happy song for you. In this life, thank you for passing by my city and giving me a meeting like spring flowers. In this life, peace and warmth are accompanied, vicissitudes are accompanied, years change, and years are old. We should also sing a pure friendship until the end of time and cherish the late dynasty.
The story of meeting in time may have the same life as the first beginning, but it can't have a lasting ending. This is a blooming season. Those affectionate stories and unforgettable memories are just a faint outline in the long scroll of years. Come, go, gather and disperse. Life is just a leaf falling in a hurry. A turned and familiar figure has merged into the vast sea of people, and there is nowhere to find it.
Where have all the people who once said they would be together for life gone? Those promises have long been wet by fleeting rain and can't tell the original appearance. Many times, it is better to miss each other than to meet each other; Goodbye, never again.
Life, there will always be a reluctant page, so beautiful and warm, with deep and shallow thoughts written between the lines, full of pear blossoms as white as snow. I used to stubbornly believe that the good times will stay in my life forever, and the time is not old and the fate is not scattered. However, it ignores that there are always many unpredictable storms and irresistible vicissitudes in the journey of life.
Once warm, beautiful memories, maybe just a distance to turn around, just curtain call. Think too much, so that all the encounters in the world can have a happy ending, so that time will never be light or cold, so that the world will never be separated. However, it has never been our choice to come and go. Some colorful past is like having a beautiful and illusory dream. After waking up, you are still you, I am still me, standing on both sides of time and living separately. You are your missing, and I am my autumn water.
Perhaps, gains and losses are ordinary chapters in life. Life is always half-bright and half-dark, which is both bleak when the dust settles and full of joy when flowers bloom. Over the years, the rhyme has changed, and many people who walk side by side forget each other. Things will come to an end, no matter whether it is perfect or not, all we can do is to do and cherish it.
Time, will gradually thin cool in the past, once beautiful, can only recall. Perhaps, we should all have a heart of gathering and parting, and thank those who have accompanied us in the journey of life. It is these long or short fates that teach us to grow up and make us mature and strong.
Flowers bloom and fall, clouds roll and clouds are comfortable, and the scenery at four o'clock will never change at all because of our emotions. The pace of the season will never stop for anyone. Those calls from Qian Shan thousands of miles away, those unforgettable words, are carefully placed in the bottom of my heart, no longer mentioned. If you remember it, just smile and turn it into a light ink with a thin pen. The strong point is the yearning left by the passage of time, and the weak point is to leave a quiet white for yourself.
A lot of fate, if you can't catch it, you might as well let it go with a smile. After many years, whether I am deeply remembered or forgotten in rivers and lakes, I believe that I have experienced and been warm, which is a beautiful scenery in my life.
I always thought that the ideal love or friendship should be "flowers bloom and fall, cherish each other, but flowers don't give up." However, how to fight against time when I was young? Many people are destined to be just passers-by in our lives, just painting a touch of warm color on fleeting stationery, leaving a glimpse and rushing in different directions in an instant.
But I also firmly believe that the wind will remember the fragrance of a flower, and time will record those beautiful past. Those companions who are full of warmth and security, although not gentle with the years, bloom into a tree in a certain journey of life, lighting up the desolation of the years.
In life, there can be another person, which makes us feel a little painful when we think of it, or a shallow smile on our lips. Isn't it a kind of happiness?
Life is not perfect. In the journey of life, we will always meet many people. Lu Yu has a lot of scenery, scattered fate and opportunities, patched together into indelible memories. Even though I have traveled all over Qian Shan and seen the gathering and scattering of the world of mortals, there is always a memory that I will never mention again, but it has been hidden in my heart. There is always someone who hurts you beyond words. There is always a scenery that will take root in my heart and become lush.
Perhaps, sometimes meet, there is no reason to gather and disperse, no matter how beautiful meet, will eventually go their separate ways in the years. If life is like the first time, it is just a beautiful and ethereal wish in our hearts. Everyone who walks in the world is just a passer-by in the long river of years, and no one can stay with us forever. Let the past drift away, and leave it to the years. Some people always miss each other: some things will drift away with the wind. It is better to warm your heart than to bind yourself.
Leaning in the fleeting arms, guarding a secluded window, a solitary lamp and half a volume of books, I saw those sad and happy past events, leaving only a touch of warmth under the washing of time. I no longer struggle, complain or explore right and wrong. If all the encounters in the world are reunions after a long separation, then every earthly predestination time has already laid the groundwork. If you live up to each other's blooming, you can have no regrets.
I just want to be a woman with a simple heart. In the bleak years, I walked shallowly according to the traces of words, holding warm marks all the way, and deeply cherishing the warmth and understanding of meeting each other. Looking at the fleeting time, one flower blooms like a flower, silent and happy.