Text/Miki
There is no one who does not want to be beautiful, there is no one who does not want to be happy, some have been happy, some are old and happy, some are unhappy, no matter how many categories, but all desire happiness, because life is only once, there is no second reincarnation.
Originally conceived very well, but often not so good, persuade themselves, there is no perfect life, "flaws do not hide Yu", defects can not exist, think of this there will be no more complaining voices, but calling, is self-criticism of themselves, everything can not be hurried. Perhaps behind the beauty, as described by contemporary writer Jia Pingwo in the novel "Temporary Sitting", "the more high-profile, looking at the eye-catching woman, the lining under the beautiful skirt has long been yellowed, the expensive handbag is filled with a lump of toilet paper, and the stockings in the exquisite high heels are not known to be torn by several holes." Life is always unsatisfactory, when the light has passed, it can only be a sour memory.
I wanted to give myself a piece of the world through my unremitting efforts, to draw the elements of struggle from the profound experience of my childhood, and to plant the seeds of love and hate in my young mind. I regret that I have walked through the feelings I have encountered, how to think is a clear and picturesque answer, is that I do not cherish, is that my wandering heart has no opinion, is that I have no reason, is that I do not accept to lose to myself, like a star, crossed from the bottom of my heart, and has since become an irreparable trace. I love you, it is the ripples in the calm water that floods in life, and the love for you has fallen in my heart at that time, one sad seed after another, one after another, one after another, one after another,
I wanted to change my destiny, but I prayed too much in my destiny, miscalculated, turned the only effort I had to make into a burden, and no longer had the strength to give up my uncontrollable center of gravity above the tide. Walking to the west entrance, no one knows, on the lonely road, the sound of the bell hanging on the donkey's neck is crisp and reminiscent of the echo of the cuckoo's call when the wheat ears in the hometown are yellow.
It was raining in the sky, the cheeks under the bucket felt a hint of coolness, the sound of the cuckoo was still around, there was a sound under my feet, even my wheezing on the road could be heard clearly, a few years passed, more worry, more sorrow, not much or myself, if it were not for walking, I could not hear other sounds. Men don't need to understand, they don't need warmth, God has arranged, he has given himself, and the task is to cut through the thorns.
Sometimes what you think is not necessarily true, sometimes the iron will not become soft, how much luck and misfortune, what type God has created, all have his mission to cope with, to toss, to go far, that is fate, is not the mistake of reincarnation, but also the misfortune and misfortune of the mustard, can not go to wake up the sleeping person, should go forward, but also do not stay to complete, because the world can not avoid this and that thing.
About the author; Li Xianfeng, pen name Miki. Shandong Tai'an people, like literature especially prose, philosophy, clothing design. In middle school, he was a member of the Liangshan Little Writers Association. After stepping into the society, he was hired as a special writer for Ningxia Wuzhong Daily. He now works for a fashion design company.