【I dropped my pen and looked forward to the water falling back to Cao】
Author: Haruya
The cold moon ripples, and the wind and rain sound. I didn't dream deeply, listening to The Thunderbolt Cloud Crash. The teenager went through the next year, not the silver millet land, still stepping out of the jade sand sound.
Borrow the meaning of too much liquor, drop the pen to think, sigh life like a water corridor, lonely and agile in the moonlight. Old thoughts, with the sunset and moonrise, met the Yulou people, but also looked at the Fang Ji Ruijin, most of them are in the branches of the shadow.
My heart is soft, soft enough to be good, soft and rainy, not disturbing flowers and grass, and not being able to shock a grain of sand. I don't want to be a "white rabbit, running east and west", nor do I shout "clothes are not as good as new, people are not as good as old".
What teenagers go up to the floor alone, worry about the building or the happy building, clean and clean to tear down the building! Absurdly relying on the bar to worry about it, relying on the Cloud Palace, some strength was wasted, and the dashing behavior of combing the clouds and skimming the moon had long been gone. Meet the water, do the fallen leaves, meet the mountains, melt the breeze, the butterfly is me, I am Zhuang Sheng. In the dark night, in the corners of the invisible, the soul is not afraid, and I am alone in the nonsense.
The mountain is high and I am slow, trapped in the cage, and when it comes to life and death, I don't want to be two clear, but also two clear. Read everything just right, stop chattering like a mosquito, don't kill the only twilight. The lights are warm, the pen is concerned, the world is all over the Lanting, all the bones can not be changed for Jindan, how to think of Luoyang Yang madman, Yang Ningshi, "the next pen will go to the Silk Column"; Dongpo prides itself on the arrogance of the eight winds that cannot be moved, in the eyes of the Buddha Seal, it is like bullshit, the angry Dongpo crossing the river is evaluated, and the Buddha Seal gently talks about a sentence of "The eight winds cannot move, and a fart crosses the river", laughing at the ridiculous people in the world.
Trance, not to mention us ordinary people, the truth is not true, false is not false, "after all, a few people really have deer, do not know how to dream of fish all day long." ”
Listening to the rain and sleeping, my heart is full of years of water flowing, spring flowers and autumn moons, summer sun and winter snow, countless beautiful scenery. The next day, the spring breeze was triumphant, the willows in the north slowly sprouted, and the cherry blossoms in the south were already covered with powder. So my heart, which has nowhere to rest, will also fall into the water.
Step by step, line by line, scene by scene, the teenager is just a guest with a sad beard, turning around and going out, laughing as a naïve seeker.
About the author
Haruya: A genius writer who can write and spend flowers.