Picking up the traces of years, watching the autumn wind, savoring loneliness and faint sadness, and reversing my heart in this secret time. Those broken nodes were scattered on yesterday's train in a hurry and could not be recovered. The scenery forgotten in memory has become an endless movie. Even if I recall or sigh, the years are still so sad. Perhaps, this is fate, too many unsolved mysteries.
Music reverberates and dreams strike people. Full of pale years, the dream is broken into empty, and the song ends. But time passes through my fingers, but I can't catch a ray of Qiu Meng and miss the past. Perhaps, the story once carried too many broken dreams on the forehead lines of years. And those touching vows, only good memories, old memory faces.
I don't know if I am a guest in my dream, but I am greedy and happy. Yesterday's frivolous teenager has put on a mature mask today. Washed away yesterday's innocence, leaving today's left unlocked. Ignorant years, crazy smiles, all follow the wind of the years.
Change. How many feelings of parting infected loneliness. Thousands of cups are drunk, chatting, singing in the wind, and years are like snow. In the past, with the wind, Wan Li was sad, like a thousand miles of smoke, lost in this autumn wind season.
In the leisurely days, I always think, who can understand the cold and warm feelings of this world in the vicissitudes of life? Even if it is a half-life situation, there will always be a moment when the clouds open and the fog clears. Perhaps, time is so strange.
Fear. All vicissitudes of life are just decorative patterns of life. In reincarnation, even though thousands of miles of mountains and rivers turn, this little memory finally falls in the season when gardenias bloom. Maybe this is the stationery of yesterday's memory, no matter how beautiful it is.
Silence.
I don't know since when, I have been wandering on the edge of youth throbbing. Looking at the crowds coming and going, there is always a corner of memories. Now, simple life, relaxed rhythm, no one.
Call me at midnight. Such a day can't be said to be leisurely, but I don't know why, leisurely people are at a loss. Perhaps, I should have held hands with loneliness, just like at the beginning, when I grew up, I shed my first tear.
You must understand that the past is like the wind, and even the best emotions are broken. Sadness in desolation will eventually be borne by someone. Love and hate to leave are only their own making. Years are like water, flowing into time, and loneliness gradually disappears.
Looking back several times, it is difficult to have a little throb.
Time flies like water, youth like tea, tasting the bitter rhyme of emotions, and I have let go of too many past events. As I said, I want to go to Qiong Yao's hometown, the riverside of Fenghuang ancient city, and feel Miao again with the people I like.
Ethnic customs, harvest a new breath of love, but unfortunately things didn't work out, what can I do? Looking at the world like smoke, the tidbits are full and the knot is tangled, so it is difficult to give up. When the past is like the wind, who can sing in it
Accustomed to loneliness, accustomed to the night, in the gap of time, in the world of words, getting a warmth, perhaps, is my best choice.
Flowers bloom and fall, flowing water gurgles, but the bitterness in my heart has already been blown away by the autumn wind. A spoony leaf, no one knows? A wisp of melancholy thoughts, bear alone. Thinking like the wind can't take away the silent night. Reading is like water, washing.
Don't forget yesterday's troubles. If I am half drunk and half awake, do you still remember my first dream in my dream? Singing in a low voice, does the love song still hurt? We can't keep the years and feelings, and we are always confused in the wind and rain. The concealment of years
Hiding, unspeakable regret, perhaps, is just a worry about much ado about nothing.
Looking back on the years of chasing the wind, the mottled time is picturesque, but I don't know when to be happy. All the diaries and my words wander in loneliness. I don't know when I can have sporadic memories of the past.
A quiet home? Perhaps, the agreement of Sansheng once locked half a window of my heart, and the cold wind could not enter and exit. Even the biting moonlight can't cover the whole body. So, I am still like this.
Simple, okay.
The world wandered several times, watching the dust and fog. Everything in my memory seems to want to have a good wish and stay last night. However, now I am always in a lonely besieged city, and I can't get out of this autumn wind season.