Clouds wandered, sometimes drowning the shadows of flowers between the windows, sometimes caressing the heavy eyelids.
The wind stroked the hair one by one, tired and tied around the pillow.
Close the distractions of reality, open the latch of dreams, have dreams in the daytime, and look for the romance of the wind and snow in dreams.
The sun falls into the courtyard, the season is warm at the incense steps, the seasons are on the swings, the dreams in the warm wind, the insects and birds sing, and the flowers are full of flowers.
The wind whispers, cutting the spring light and hanging it between the windows, not wanting to wake up when the dreamer wakes up and sees the plainness of reality, and has a feeling of loneliness.
Steal a little leisure, wrap a few wisps of wind and sleep, decorate the boring time, life does not have to be too real, who said that dreams must be at night!
In the light of day, there are small scenes falling on the vines outside the window, and the flowers bloom frame by frame, and the petals fly apart.
There is always someone who doesn't care about your grades, only whether you're happy or not. I care if you can take out between your whiskers and feel good for yourself in your busyness.
If you can, drink a cup of tea, read a book, or take a nap on the couch, the person who loves you will be happy.
The branches dipped in the sun, painted in front of the window with mottled shadows, between light and dark, the wind caressed, and the dream was sound.
Try to move forward, but don't forget to be lazy occasionally. Life is not a race, but a journey that goes with the flow.
Don't just look down and run wildly, but occasionally raise your head and look at the scenery you pass.
Collect incense in the sea of flowers, dress up by the small pool, or among the shades of green grass, sleep in the wind, travel in your dreams, and then go to the reality to beg for life.
You and I are both mortals, let go of attachment, be confused, and feel sorry for the world.
Too much impermanence will erode the full heart. When Shaohua faded, the memories were in vain.
It is better to walk slowly for the rest of your life and do as you please. Tired, stop here and soak up the warmth of the sun. Tired, looking for a dream, sleeping in the wind by the small window.
The meaning of life is not how high you stand and how far you look. Instead, we must stop and discover the beauty of the ordinary world.
Sunshine, drifting clouds, breeze, light rain, bees collecting honey among flowers, listening to insects in the fragrant phoebe grass, golden leaves covered with limestone slabs, Su Xue admiring the fragrance of tea...
Thinking about it carefully, everything within reach is the most superior to countless people in the world. And if prosperity is like a dream, it will be peaceful in the dream.
There is no life that has always been smooth, only a state of mind that knows how to be relieved. We all walked with our weights on our backs, toward that piece of longing, sometimes calmly, sometimes tired, sometimes leisurely, taking a nap in front of the window.
Please witness over the years, this ordinary day, work and life, repeating, repeating, will be bored, will be tired, will want to escape the similarity of flowers blossoming and falling, in the dream, find a little different.
Still will be greedy, the years can be quiet can have some boiling fireworks!
Remember, stop and take a nap, dream of a spring breeze triumphant horseshoe disease, awaken the vitality, and cut through the thorns in the helpless reality.
In the small courtyard, on the old brick wall, there are a few noisy birds, the sun stirs the misty eyes, in a trance, the dream is locked, so it is difficult to remember.
Coiled up strands of hair that had been messed up by the wind, the cold tea could not keep the wandering clouds. Before sunset, the mind is clear, and the exhaustion fades.
Close the window, look at the longer flower shadows, tell yourself, don't be so tired, slow down, live with your heart, and you will find that this simple human world is worth it, because there are poems of the morning and evening, and there are songs of the four seasons.
Take a break, accompany the tea fragrance, lean in the corner, give the dream a little time, and stomp in the beauty.