If, if I meet you again, I will shed tears of shame (perhaps because I know you are still in a hurry to forgive me), for the barren years, for I finally can't persist, and for all the roses that eventually wither. (Definition of growth) The easiest way to let time pass is to make day and night appear again and again. (Swear) I will meet you again in this life. You are outside the cupboard, I am in the cupboard, separated by a cold glass, and I am eagerly waiting for your arrival. In consternation, you seem to hear some voices. Of course, you can't believe it. (History Museum) Happiness and regret are two sides of the same body. You loved me like that before you got tired of it. (rainy season) On the dark river, everything you left behind can finally become your past and my last night, which is quietly recited by many people under the starry sky. If I can abandon the audience with my back, I need enough wisdom to decide when to end before they finally abandon me. Love has no unique face. However, you came to me like a dream. You gently took my hand and led me through the barren mountain road. The wind blows over the lotus leaves and the dense jungle. On that summer night, I knew that there was an awakening, a melting had arrived, and an uncontrollable indirect flow had slowly moved forward under the glacier in my heart. Love, there is no exclusive night, but you came to my side. Beauty seems to be a waste forever, and what you can really get in life seems to be nothing more than this opportunity to dress up wholeheartedly. If the dew is the vanity of plants and the planet is the show off of the universe, will our encounters after sunset be just a short poem and an imperceptible smile on the lips of time? It seems that the action never stops, but the time is delayed. Is the so-called bright future really a scam that has just lasted for a lifetime? I always forgot to ask you, is the most tortuous and moving plot in shadow play light or shadow? In the starry sky on a summer night, there is only tragedy. When the dazzling information finally reached my heart, your stars thousands of light years away had already gone out and cooled down. And I am ecstatic to answer, but I still don't know, and I am on my way to you in a hurry. After repeated and persistent, soft water finally turned into a meat cleaver. My truth is my unreal dream. Mine is not real, so it's all here. (Confessions) Over time, the definition of loneliness is the mirror in the corner that is caught off guard. (three years)