2. In my mind, there is infinite melancholy and inexplicable emptiness. In the early morning of winter, there is no sunshine. Spring is far away, still far away. Just like the kind of parting that can't be touched by sticky, the eyes in the gray sky look at me sadly, choking and sour, and suddenly I can't understand the truth of life.
3. In the distance, through the dim light flashing at the sleepy end of the river, I stared at the vague scene, the coolness of my fingertips danced lightly, and I felt the pain of spinning cocoons. Who will use it to be full of tenderness and tenderness for that old heart in the years?
4. In the melancholy of the night, recall the happiness of childhood with delicate words, appreciate the four seasons of mood, and indulge in the past fleeting years. The sealed memories are opened one by one, and the picture is like the film of a black-and-white movie, which is slowly played back in my mind with homesickness, dribs and drabs, bringing out infinite homesickness and faint sadness under the tapping of the keyboard.
5, heart, lonely by a string of memories; Love, lingering in a memory; Trouble is like dust, or it can be like a flower. I know that some beauty is warm in my heart; Some past, quiet, is the best. Accustomed to quietly turning some thoughts into warmth, pointing to the place and downplaying abortion; Looking back, ten fingers turn into incense; Don't think about right and wrong, right and wrong, let the past go with the wind and miss agarwood. ...
6. I like to enjoy the peace of writing alone in the deep twilight; Like to relax nervous nerves in soothing music; I like the sense of tranquility brought by cicadas in the sunset; I like watching sad movies, enjoying sad words alone, enjoying all sad stories, and describing loneliness at night with sad words.
7. Reading thousands of willows in the distant mountains and carefully carving the years with a pen are the quatrains that I have always admired. In this world, books are still silent and pious, such as some proverbs: if you are quiet, you will be indifferent. Always tell yourself not to worry too much, so that you can think you are strong and stubborn. I believe that being too emotional is a complex interaction.
8. Time flies. I leaned against the window, listening to the monsoon and feeling the autumn coming as scheduled. That's my favorite sight. Birds fly in the blue sky from time to time. Can you take my thoughts to your pillow? Who knows, you can't hide your sadness in the peach blossom smile, and the clothes pity you. The sadness of wandering all my life is full of dusty ink. How can I miss you?
9. Gently step on the dead leaves under your feet, silently stare at the city under the neon, and suddenly feel more emotions in your eyes? Care? Give up?
10, youth is a beautiful sadness. Those cities with plain faces, those washed faces, all fell in the wheel of fate. From then on, those who pass by will turn around in different fates and crawl in different scars. Did you cry when the train rumbled and crushed our beautiful youth?
1 1. Walking on the road of life, as lonely people, we often move forward with an indifferent attitude, but from the moment we meet for the first time to the moment we leave, we always know. Countless laughter and whispers can't resist two lines of tears when we wave.
12, walk in the world of mortals and laugh at the stories in the depths of the fleeting time! Happy, sad, melancholy, helpless, desolate, like a movie, constantly circulating! Gradually, I seemed to realize something, but I was awakened by this damn cold wind from that moment, wrapped my coat helplessly and walked slowly forward under the mapping of dim street lights!
13, the cold wind slowly, the dead leaves mottled, and the green frost in the corner began to appear again. How many infatuated dreams are staged in front of my eyes again and again, and I am hurt all over. Rugged stone steps, rotten wooden doors, dilapidated alleys, maybe only I still like the grass and trees here. The wind has stopped raging, and the moon is quietly emitting cold light. I kneel in front of this dilapidated door, holding your favorite red leaves in my hand. I climbed up the withered red leaves and sang a sad song gently.
14, the eyelids are still in a trance, and the tears in winter are very bleak and cold. I have a yearning that I can't stop, cutting my heart, spreading my palm again and catching the streamer. As for you, I am far away from the curtain of time and space, and I only try my best to breathe the faint blue, slowly infiltrating my heart, growing all wet memories and slipping from my temples.
15, the breeze is drunk, who will listen to a roll of plain heart? Stumbling along the dark path, thinking of a charming old lamp with a small window, sighing the empty sound of broken buildings. In the sad song, in the wet mood, I plucked the strings of memories, and only I was quietly tasting the lonely taste, and my mouth rose coldly.
16 but I have never been sad, because a hermit came to me leisurely in late autumn, and his mood was exactly the same as mine. Leisurely down the south mountain, I met unexpectedly, and later became brothers, drinking a cup of turbid wine in the deep mountain. Is it my true nature to smell incense all over Chang 'an? I am far away from the prosperity, guarding my plain water, smiling and safe.
17, how determined this situation is. I don't sleep. In the cold moonlight and the cold autumn wind, my long sleeves float, arching my trembling body and looking up at the gloomy stars on the horizon. If you were still here, maybe I wouldn't be so miserable.
18, the long years are like a song without a name, but there are endless thoughts and endless regrets in the song. There is too much helplessness hidden in the song, but there will always be a day when it will go with the wind. Open the dusty memory, can you clearly identify your young face on the title page? Perhaps that young face, even we have forgotten ourselves, so we didn't continue to bow our heads and sigh to sleep in the swaying time.
19, capture the moment of life, try my best to keep it, and finally slip away like a rabbit, tossing and turning in the image I miss. Elegance refers to quicksand, which has been aging for some time. So, what about my time? What about your time? In a blink of an eye, everything is precipitated in the dream, and there are countless sorrows.
20, a little bit of residual flowers moisten the eyebrows, tired Fangfei butterflies do not return, tears fly with flowers, and make a season of lotus flowers. In the summer, I went to Qiu Lai, where the purple stranger fills the air, the maple leaves are yellow, and the acacia willows are lost; The rain broke the cold pond and made the bridge sadder. The water on the green slate flows by itself, and the oil-paper umbrella stares at you in vain. However, like yesterday's stumbling, reluctant attachment, a piece of missing condensed in the eyebrows, scattered in every lonely night.
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