rest
Silence, this is a melody that only belongs to the night.
The earth seems to have stopped turning, and so has the world. It is a pleasure to walk alone in the storm at night, so that you can enjoy the peace of the night alone. Why do you like to go to night shows? I want to know. In other words, the world during the day is full of hypocrisy, and I can't adapt to the integration with the night?
I suddenly felt very funny: does hypocrisy only appear in the daytime? Hum, in this endless night, are there any exceptions to human innate characteristics?
This world has never met dawn. In this world, there are only constant attacks on opponents, endless wars and killings ... I suddenly want to know why I like this bloody xiuluo field? Is there such coldness in my character that the dark side sings with it? That's it.
climax
Without starlight, we can light the way forward with lightning.
I used to think that the world was vast and could accommodate all kinds of new things. However, with the increase of life experience, I found that I was completely wrong. We usually do the same things in the same way and in the same order ... even a slight deviation will have unknowable consequences. Not many people are willing to take risks, and no one wants me to do so, but there is competition everywhere in the world. If I don't do this, I find that I often lose, and I lose miserably. I don't want to lose, so my mind gradually has the machinery to keep up with the world, whether it's numbness or something else.
Maybe this is a free world, but our hearts are no longer free. People walk around in the maze they built, but they can't find the exit.
Thunder came from the other side of the dark clouds. I thought it was an illusion. I didn't believe my ears until it rained harder and harder and the thunder repeated again and again.
In the dark night, a dazzling thunderbolt fell from the sky, white light lit up the road, crossed the sky and split the dark night curtain in two ... I haven't been so shocked for a long time, I just stood in the pouring rain and let the cold rain slide down my cheeks. ...
Y-beam curve
The night is always sad.
No one can stop the diffusion of black molecules in the field of vision. I was still standing in the wind and rain, but lightning didn't appear again. I don't know what to do. Am I waiting for the next lightning to light my way? Or do you feel your way out?
I didn't wait any longer, because I knew that no matter how bright the lightning was, the dazzling white light disappeared in an instant, and it was still endless night that greeted me. Under the bondage of repeated marks, I would continue to be sad forever. ...
The prelude of the song is from far to near after I fall asleep, "click, click, click, click."
Soft footsteps
Night sonata
Start-
-That-
I came home from school yesterday, singing in my room with a big stack of songs in my arms because I was preparing for the competition. It was very late when I wanted to sleep, and the lights outside the window spread dim in the drizzle. I was sleepy and planned to sleep.
"Ta-da."
"Ta-da."
"Ta-da."
"Ta-da."
Light footsteps, like the beginning of a song, slowly seeped in.
"Cheep-"The door was gently pushed open, and then my mother came in gently in the dark.
They are all very subtle sounds, such as a drop of water opening a lake, light breaking branches, stepping on the snow, and soft sounds. They can be almost ignored, but I can still hear them clearly in the dark.
"shua shua shua"
"shua shua shua"
Mother tried her best to control the strength of her fingers by the window, pulling the curtain a little to the left and a little to the right, or folding the two curtains again until the dim light and the long rain outside the window were firmly blocked. That's her habit for many years. She's always afraid that I can't sleep because of the street lamp. She thought about changing rooms with me or closing the curtains for me before I went to bed, but I was tired and refused. It seems that I don't know when my mother will wait until I fall asleep before coming in, stubbornly dimming the lights in the room, like a task that must be completed, just like tonight, so late, she still wants to come over.
"Ta-da."
"Ta-da."
"Ta-da."
"Ta-da."
My mother groped her way to the bed, covered the quilt with a thick blanket, and gently pulled the quilt and covered my head, as if afraid of waking me up. My mother straightened up and opened the door with the voice of "click, click, click, click". A few rays of jumping light penetrated the door and then fell silent with a splash.
She told me to go to bed early, but she didn't bother me. She stayed out late with me.
She told me to add an extra quilt when it got cold, but she came in to tuck me in.
She told me to close the curtains when I slept, but she still closed them for me every time.