A thought is already a dream, a thought of wading through the babbling brook and running out of the valley; a thought is already a memory, under the pretext of the rope of bondage to suppress the pillow and chew thoughtfully; a thought, it is already a lovesickness, and the accumulation of years is always rubbed and sighed in the solemnity! At the thought of it, it is already two sideburns, leaving time and engraving the accusation of the heart...
Weaving the clothes of the years, resisting the cold and heat of the years, the flowers that come and go alternately wither and the glory, highlighting the flowers of a season like a brocade but setting off the cheekbones of the imitation of smoke and rain, the impermanent clouds of galloping horses, He Zeng Cleansed the filthy and pure soul to pluck the flawless height of the soul! A lot of final judgments, a lot of final results, ups and downs in the process is always ignored in the chaos of the deduction of the moment of thunder and lightning...
Send away a song of human vicissitudes rubbing shoulders, operating an accident of encountering ups and downs, can you be willing to be at the mercy of Providence to dominate the rise and fall?! Can you stand on the platform of the longing high building, hoping that the next time there is no appointment and no regular meeting?!
The melody of the intersection of life, the process is always indulged in the confusing wonderful retracement, the moisturization of the experience, every place is surrounded by the fresh afterscent of herbs. The beauty of the hair shawl, the beautiful posture of the lady, the dying party, the flattering eyes like an invitation make me deeply rooted in the bones, reminisce about a corner, and make me unforgettable!
Your smile is like a spring willow standing on the shallow water microwave, swaying in the gentle ripples of the river; your smile is like the call of the wind, the blue sky and blue water that opens in the pond, the red face, the delicate beauty, the shame of the dragonfly...
Let me abide by the rules of the contract, and let me sink into the forest of trees in my mind...
In the past life and this life, the flower bed built for you, embellished for you so far, and even more with you to meet each other out of the oven, the love is bumpy in the memory of the poignant road, the dark as the first acquaintance and affinity let me cherish. Today's flower beds have long been blooming red and emerald green, following the change of seasons. For you, are you as you were, standing peacefully under the pear blossoms, with your hands as a shade, looking forward to the end of the road, and greeting you as I come...
Time is like cotton, years are like lead. In the end, the enemy can't resist the silent entanglement of the years, and the desperate love that does not refuse to leave time cannot be dragged...
Miss, just like this, quietly lost to the long meandering time and space, lost to the endless wait! Defeated by chewing endless taste without end sighs!
Was it too long? Only to derive the demand for liveliness! Is it too longing? Only to remember the lush buds of the hundred grasses to greet the heart! Is it too deep? Only to regurgitate the long-suppressed emotions to the hasty self-healing place?!
In the hope of grabbing life, the desire to indulge, the need for emotional scarcity, the need for loneliness. A few strokes, a few tosses, crushing the flowers of thoughts, simplifying the cumbersomeness of thoughts, breaking the branches of acacia tillers, and asking for a copy of the Qingning cultivation of The Sanskrit sound of the Buddhist language!
The mellow aroma of brewing, the sweetness of creation, can it create the original, settle the thoughts, and calm the entanglement of the fish in the throat...
Time flies, time flies, acacia with nowhere to put it, stored like a pickle! That long-standing thought, wandering eyes searched on the roads in all directions, searching for unexpected encounters, hoping for encounters and miracles that were not far away. As everyone knows, the emotional forging of acacia can withstand the endless grinding of the stone of time!
How long did it take to run? Only to promise, comfortable and lost to stir acacia into mud to put on the fence of the spring boudoir pavilion; how long is it stranded? In order to remove, the barrier of doubt and trust in the heart is poured into the wall; how long is it stranded? In order to calm down, the ups and downs of love and hate are confused like glue and bitterness...
Borrow a liver and gallbladder, steal the sky to peek at the law, set the township rules and customs, bind as much as you want, and taste tea alone. Looking back at the feelings of the collection, the dappled dreams scattered on the ground, the brightly lit sky, and the whisper of pouring a blue prayer. Half-cup arch star, thousands of sails over the years. Looking back at a glimpse cast by the astonishing five hundred years ago, like an electric stone fire, breaking through the thunderbolt of the Heavenly Garden, the oath of the agreement was placed in the house of memory, and it was allowed to recite around the beams and fill the ears with sound. The slanting moon at the top of the mountain, the pear blossoms standing in the wind, the smoke and rain that cannot move the years like lead, the promise is that in the oath falling like ash, the mud will be wordlessly hidden into the wilderness of thoughts, and the most beautiful red dust will be pasted on the vows' waxy contract. With a long roar, the sky trembles and grows, and in the wild wind of the mountains, accompanied by the warmth of the peak snow to welcome the spring! Cast a line to leave a lone goose shadow without a trace...
Who and whose voice? Like a bridge grafted, communicating with God will be wordless, listening to the silent murmur of the end of the world! Who and whose heartbeat? The bridge up to the three rivers leads to the desert and then into the oasis land, the low frequency of red dust, the truth of the fence.
Every day, I am gladly fascinated by the thoughts, and listen to your deep and shallow whispers in the memories of the soul that I can't see the Jun in the peak circuit. Sometimes emotional, sometimes sadly cruising in the mud of thought, and collapsing and falling in the unclear, rational and chaotic emotional pity...
A wisp of spider silk visible love, deep and shallow intertwined, a light and difficult to pinch thoughts, deep and shallow to persuade yourself, a thought that is difficult to give up, deep and shallow immersion in each of your flowering periods. Chasing the essence of the sun and the moon, twisting the old and nostalgic and then quietly tearing through the night in the heart of the sea to turn over the past, confused and helmed out of the sail...
Can't hold back the thoughts of letting go of the reins, can't ride the surging thoughts of the waves, floods like the Yellow River roaring back and forth to relay, let its rushing thoughts like a spray gate, the noise of the east is powerless to intercept!
There is no agreed invitation, on the road of the waves of the heart, in the feedback of the depreciation of time, rubbing the years with endless expectations, rubbing the drunkenness of the clouds at the end of the world, and coveting the joy and darkness of the bed!
Life is like a parabola with no rules to follow, and you and I are in the parabola with its irregular distance and proximity. Even if the sky is beautiful, leaving a faint gap that allows each other to stand on the top of the cliff and look at each other. After all, I can't keep the foot strength of you and me rushing for life, return to our respective corresponding cutting points, and return to the orderly quietness of the clutch...
The intersection of life, the parallelism and overlap can not be related to any relationship, so that thinking without logic to operate the overlapping structure of space, weaving beauty of each of you to rely on the aftertaste of a smile, searching for your eyebrows like a flower, pretending to be flirtatious.
Time, in the day-to-day soft grinding and hard bubble grinding, solemnly favored, formed a tacit understanding. The defensive line that had previously been controlled with a degree gradually shortened, and gradually narrowed the critical line of breaking free from the shackles of friendship. More witty, less convergent, more tolerant, less fortified, calm with each other, known as an alliance. Life is like a honey-like melody, indulging one party, dabbling in some obscure and deep itch of the state of mind, and like the leisurely momentum of the spark, the pleasure of the heart, the comfort of relieving the troubles and smoothness, igniting the burning joy of the long-consuming lead in the heart, sharing each other's default warm glances.
The conclusion of long-term love has a long history, who can easily get rid of it? Who can easily put it down? Convergence of disobedience and delusion, rebellion of peace!
Swimming in the colorful and gorgeous flowers, happy flowers to see the flowers, can I be able to change everywhere without being surprised by the person outside the door, and see through the determination of love? Can I set aside the steadfastness of red dust harassment? A lot of sorrow, a lot of trouble, how difficult it is to convince yourself. Get rid of what you think in your heart, and how many people control the perfect excellence?!
And I, always looking for the silky pleasure in your beautiful smile, so I set myself up beautifully to play myself. In the self-deceptive lying, soothe the thoughts and jump like a rush, comfort the infatuation of the disturbed lovesickness, let the wandering emotions find your charming and heartwarming homecoming. Only to know that the opposite sex gets along for a long time, frequent exchanges, will render each other, mutual good feelings, mutual thoughts, slowly biased towards the flowers of friendship and pleasantness, slowly transfer the tacit understanding and adaptation of flowers and elder trees, and fantasize that one party will always go to compare. And often, sentimental people are extremely fragile, extremely low resolution stubbornness!
Many worldly events, intertwined without a point to be found, and the parallel time of clutching and subverting the three views, is the intricacy that I hope to mix with disappointment, and the spark of hope that rekindles hope after I am completely discouraged and extinguished. The fleeting shortness, the moment when the white colt crossed the gap, the indistinct distinction in the heart sea, the itching and scratching. Day after day, silently as promised, year after year, as scheduled, reincarnation is at the distance between the end of the world and the end of the world...
The emotions of time turning over alternately lukewarmly, and the clouds and sunshine continue to change, endlessly accompanying. The knot of pity and doubt was polished beyond recognition. The question mark is no longer a question mark to answer, words are no longer words to express, confused people, the dam of water storage that flows in spring and winter makes me sigh without a gate.
Time is rushing, time is fleeting, tired and haggard thoughts, never at the time node, rest for a while, slow down and sightseeing.
The bright and fragrant aroma of the sun and the joy of the flowers have been deeply and shallowly carved into the mind and hidden in the heart.
Every day when I miss bathing, there is a dark as black low, there is a wandering cloud, there is also a pleasant surprise in the past, and there is a whirlpool of turbulent emotions in the heart...
Only to know that I thought day and night, and my uncontrollable thoughts were actually just to do some simple acceptance for the next dawn that broke into the darkness of the night. In the coming day, I will still open the door of my heart without hesitation and pick you up in with emotion!
Time will not slack off the hurried pace because of my leisurely feelings, nor will it stop the kind words of pity and sorrow, but will involve me in the trampling and trampling of the ruthless face, let me be alone, let me sleepless at night, moisten a season of spiritual acacia, and stimulate the self-destruction of the material instinct at the beginning of chaos.
Through the fingertips stacked thick hoarding of nostalgia, a gentle rub, you can clearly see the scars of the crests that cannot be healed! Entering the heart path of thinking of love and knocking, full of staggered and extended wonderful, sometimes staggered and sometimes parallel, let me think of the tragic and magnificent words of watching the flowers talk about flowers, let me how to operate next time? How to grasp the confusion before it ends? Sprouting, in the quiet and windless heart of the field arched out of the buds, the thickets of tender green along the branches of the thought of incorruptible, the joy of welcoming the spring, the tiller born of nothing in the heart of the long and repetitive labor...
Ask the heavens, whose cheerful face is permanent? Watch the sun and the moon, and relive the past one by one! Ask the heavens, whose tears are like Mei? A sad rout is hard to harvest! Ask the heavens, whose tears have dried up? But in the dry and cracked heart of the scoop sprinkled perseverance! Ask the heavens, who dug the deep well for whom? Let the person carrying the thousand-meter well rope stand on the edge of the well, and the green tendons will violently draw water!
Who's who's waiting? With the perseverance of the CrabApple Pan Pond, we will stick to the indefinite years of silk, forge a furnace of weak water and three thousand dings to take a scoop, and the sorrow of the spring wind and buds! Take the idea of qu gao and widowhood, break through the blockade of the night black wind high, and the son's hand!