(i)
The streets stood full of lonely people, lonely hearts. Stairs, sweaters, once familiar memories, blurred and distorted by time, have just been filled, and then reoccupied with emptiness. At that time, it became a memory, itself an eternal silence, and if you want to relive it, you can only search hard for the yellowed diaries and photos in the old paper pile, travel back through time to return to the things that only happened in the imagination, it is a myth is a story, but it will not become a reality. Even if some people remember it, the past is the past, and the real yesterday will never be repeated.
Loneliness is boundless, drowning people in an instant. Every moment of time is full of loneliness, escape, disguise, can not expel loneliness. When loneliness quietly covers the heart, always want to find someone to love themselves, maybe this love can drive it away, always think so. Love is very strong, lingering, not reluctant, and loneliness has also changed the appearance of lovesickness to come to be a companion. Maybe the end, maybe not, it's just the process. When it is over, loneliness strikes again, drowning people in an instant, and sadness and pain are like shadows, and they will not abandon it. Waiting for time, the wound will slowly heal, and slowly forget everything that hurts. Those who are not over, thinking that happiness will be forever, but they still know that they cannot resist time and loneliness, just like the sea eroding the shore rock, for a long time, how smooth and fresh feelings have become sore and scarred. Loneliness is gradually returning, smiling at you everywhere.
It was as if the water droplets of time were falling, a void, a silence. Beyond life and death, it is dripping, meaningless sorrow and joy, it is dripping, clearly flowing in everyone's heart, without exception.
(ii)
Privately, she called herself the wind. Lazy to speak and longing for simple freedom, hoping that he can be a gust of wind, invisible and invisible, without a trace, with a soft eyebrow and a smooth eyebrow, or a wild and uninhibited that no one can tame.
It has always been a pursuit, it has always been burning, it has always been unreserved.
It was always lonely in love. Love itself is loneliness, and loneliness is more unreasonable and more empty and spacious than love, but it is more pressing and sad than love.
Maybe this is nothing to others, but she can't, let her lose the ability to love, she is already half dead, she said, born for love. Since she came for love, how could she bear that she would no longer love, no longer be able to love? So she had to punish herself with countless loneliness, to punish herself for a heart that could not live without love. She smiled in her heart, silent. The night without tears and no injuries slipped in this way, and the peace that never existed.
It may not be difficult to face alone, but it is the twilight of a person. Don't do this again, always entangled in this earthly hatred, let your heart not live in peace.
The original vows, the original tacit understanding, and the original warmth were just laying the groundwork, just to set off the prelude to the later scene. It's really wonderful, the chapter that is full of ink and color, brilliant and somewhat distorted, high-pitched and a little out of tune, and when it stops abruptly, it is even a little too late.
(iii)
The wind at the corner of the eaves, the clear dripping water, lingering on the string of wind chimes under the eaves, the faint and waking soft sound, quietly pulling the door of the soul. In the distance, there was an echo of faint laughter, so joyful, so hidden. Carved wooden doors, shady green climbing vines, the breeze shakes off those clear dream-like sorrows, hovering at this edge of the heart, low to the other shore of love, just like a place.
Alone in the water mirror of the clear lotus of time, reflecting the face that only laughs and tears for himself, involving the loneliness of several lifetimes, adding a touch of lightness that is not sad and disgusting, forgetting everything.
Who's in it? Who's not there? Are there any credentials available?
A short passing away, what remains is more easily lost, or like the sand between the fingers, or like the wind in front of the eyes, through the boundaries between what can be seen and what cannot be seen, bringing certain news of karma, even if it is as faint as a wisp, and so on.
Whoever he is, he can't beat this loneliness. Only it is the body of immortality.
