She still clearly remembers her father's last sentence: "If you really put the painting into your blood, then draw it, because painting won't deceive people." So come on, dad will support you. "I don't know when my face is full of tears. Beep, beep ... all the memories in the room. Paper, wet, wet with tears. Go back and forth, keep repeating. Aren't you used to it? Why are you still sad? Tears never die, and the leaves outside the window are singing lonely songs in a low voice, so sad.
She works in a coffee shop with a high salary. She asked for her salary in advance and rented a house. Of course, there is also a studio where she paints, paints and wipes. A teenager knelt on the grass with his hands folded. The weather is fine. There are pigeons on his shoulders, and his white wings are flapping in the sun, which is particularly beautiful. Finally, I drew it. Everything, from this pen to these hands, is crying over and over again. I finally drew it, waiting for more than ten years.
Standing on the school porch and reading the report —— Preliminary contest of National Painting Competition on May 8th. She meditated repeatedly in her mind. Yes, I finally look forward to this day. Naturally, she signed up, but was blocked by the administrator in the preliminary round, saying that there was no her name. Really, it is invincible after all! She smiled, as white as a lily in the wind and rain, as if she had fallen back in an instant. The leaves in the book sang a sad song, the flowers shed tears, the birds shed tears, and even the leaves on the tree stopped singing and shed tears. He left.
He shut himself in the studio, only for the sustenance of this life, painting day and night, painting dead. Green leaves sigh, flowers wither and birds are sad. On the drawing paper, a teenager ran after the red light. He wanted to hug her with his whole body and crush him. That ray of light is breathtaking and suffocating. A pale smile appeared on the girl's lips. Drop by drop, the blood on your hand comes down first, beep, beep, beep. ...
Finally, the pursuit of life. "Painting won't deceive people." "Sister's paintings look good!" "If you really put the painting into your blood, then draw it!" Then draw it! Painting, painting, painting ... the sound disappears instantly. The sunset outside the window spread sadness and dyed the whole city red. The green leaves are startled, the flowers wither and the birds fly away with a sigh. It began to rain in the sky, as if it were blood red, telling sadness in drops. However, these can't be listened to, dead, dead, really dead. It is very happy to be born to paint and stay to paint. He should, for many years, finally realize it. Like a lily, it withered quickly, leaving only the blood at hand flowing like a sunset. Blushing is still shocking and suffocating, echoing and flowing in the room.
Some things just slide like quicksand, and some things are worth exchanging with life.
In the sunset, the leaves are silent with their heads down, the flowers are sad with their heads down, and all the birds fly away except a girl with a backpack leaning on her. And her smile, birds and wind spread it all over the world. Hope to adopt