It's cloudy and rainy in Mao Mao. I am like a lonely soul at a loss, wandering aimlessly in the bustling crowd. I want to open the shackles of the spirit through shopping, but I can still write it on my face coldly and engrave my indifference in my heart.
At this time, how many couples should be very much in love in the nest, how many couples are lingering in the play, and my heart suddenly sinks in the face of happy people. I think if one day I leave, who will remember me? How long can you remember?
How many things have ended before they have started;
How many friends are strangers before getting familiar with them;
How many predestinations have been separated before meeting;
How many passions have been extinguished before they are ignited.
Tears flow a thousand times when the heart moves.
If my heart aches, my tears will turn to Wang Yang.
The tired soul led the mechanical body back to its humble abode temporarily, only to find that it still had a smile on its face. Who knows that the person who laughs the most is actually the person who hides his sadness the deepest?
Light a cigarette and watch the smoke ring drift away; Listen to a song and spin with it.
I don't like talking, but I can listen to others patiently. He (she) regards me as a bosom friend and tells me his (her) thoughts and everything. The speaker is relieved, but the listener is a little heavy.
Night fell, and it was raining in Mao Mao. Others, probably all asleep. Only I watched the roof numb and miserable, lonely and sinking. Waiting for dawn in humble hope and despair, but I seem to have been stabbed by something tonight.
This song is very affectionate. "Do you know I'm waiting for you?"
Night, suddenly become so long; Heart, suddenly it's so cold. Tears, unwillingly down the face.
How far can I peep through the silent darkness? Is there anyone who faces me across the sea every other day?
The song is like crying, "I am tired, is it fate, I rely on you."
After all, I am still me, and I can't walk into other people's dreams.
Open the internet, familiar names, how much joy and madness are in memory. If I leave, my body will turn to ashes. I want to bury my soul in the virtual cyberspace. Maybe this is my watch.
If one day, I really leave, who can pay tribute to me?