Slow life, bittersweet years

Like the taste of bitterness, but also afraid of the torture of this taste, this is an unspeakable taste. Maybe you can not think about it, or you can enjoy the current life slowly, but you always think about living a more bitter life, purely a little self-abuse.

Great compassion and great suffering, the days of escaping from the sea of suffering are revived, and I have never felt that the pain subsides a little when the feeling is so beautiful, to be able to live, to be able to live is really the most wonderful feeling in the world.

Lost love, unemployed, lost loved ones, lost health and wealth, this time and again the blows and injuries cruel and profound knife engraved in the bones, many times numb do not know whether they are alive or dead, or just like looking at a stranger looking at themselves here and where they went?

Why is it so bitter? To go to the scriptures of the sages to find the way to liberation is the extreme resentment and resentment in the heart that cannot be cleared. Without any love, it was sealed in the yearning of a lot of years, day after day.

Rejecting this suffocating day of suffering, but not completely abandoning it, perhaps because the sin of the previous life was too deep, but I am an atheist, so except for one kind of belief and disbelief, the pain is difficult to believe, and when the degree of pain is reduced, I will not believe it, as if the punishment will be more severe.

Is it because the heart is too bitter? Smelling the flowers, so many people say that this is the fragrant flowers, why only I feel cold and unbearable, the bitter juice is like the brown power drawn from the ground.

I have also heard the footprints of those saints, and the stories of those who have succeeded, full of thorns and bumps, making people feel bored and tired.

The days of being urged by bitterness, contradictory and hot and difficult to calm, I think I still have to suffer, so that I can exercise my will, and secondly, I will not have a strong sense of guilt, it seems that people with pain are not worthy of enjoying the happiness of this world, but you can see, you can think, as for everything else, cut it all off.

I am not afraid of being too low in rank, nor am I afraid of being isolated for thousands of miles, but I feel that the pitiful distance is like an animal isolated from each other, although you can feel joy and sorrow, but it does not help.

When you bow down in honor, you feel that you are so pitiful, like a bird that makes people rejoice. The bird of joy brought the wind of inaudible return, and still liked you as much as ever, just to desire hunger to a tenderness.

The years are still the same, the years still emit pure white light, and the bitterness that precipitated in the bottom of the heart when breathing has not been spoken out from beginning to end, but I just looked at you affectionately, and I can't say the feeling that even if I immediately turned my head to trek thousands of miles, I felt that it was worth it.

The dream of improvisation and waves, although it was so hurriedly encountered, hurriedly met, but it instantly understood the taste of love at first sight, with that sour tear, wiped away the dusty grievances, turned around, and looked for the north and south of the past life journey.

The small boat that drifted with the waves in the bottom of my heart quietly wandered in the middle of the lake, and the look of searching for it was like silently shedding tears.

At the moment of peace of mind, the scenery around this suddenly became more and more gentle, as if with a sweet breath, sprinkling dog food again and again, ironing a faint acacia, stepping through distant words, hugging each other in the sweetness of each other's liking.

-Author-

Pseudonym: Clouds on the Heart. I like to turn on the lamp alone in the middle of the night, sit on the bed and read a book, listen to the sound of paper rubbing, encounter the touch brought by words, and also want to pass on the warm words to more people, and then take over an ink-colored fate.

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