At one time, I thought that if I could, I should avoid this hustle and bustle of the world, wherever I am, as long as I can rely on the peace and quiet in my heart, as long as I can resist the voice of my inner subordinateness. And if you look closely, this place must not be the city I want. There is no desire, no expectation, and it cannot fit and fit in with the texture of the soul. At the bottom of my heart, it has always been close to the texture and texture of Jiangnan.
In Xidi, in Hongcun, in Wuzhen, in those small towns with old smoke cages. You seem to have met the man you have been looking for all your life. When I met, there was no noise and excitement, and I just leaned on the firewood door to hold the peach blossom tree, and said lightly, Oh, it turns out that you are also here. And you know in your heart that it is the place you have been looking for all your life, the place you have been obsessed with in this life, and it is stained with a faint sorrow of joy and sorrow.
And you slowly seek out the fragrant flowers of fate. I like the texture of pure cotton, and rarely take silk as clothing. The blue printed tablecloth that was found in Wuzhen was a thick blue with clusters of white printing and dyeing patterns scattered on it. It is not ostentatious, it is not clear, it only exists in a calm and quiet posture. The light gray cotton T-shirt that you can see at a glance in the shop, the rendering of a few gray-blue chrysanthemums on the chest and the sparse branches and leaves in the autumn deep.
It is completely full, it is dull, it is the smooth texture of the depth of time and shadow. It's lined in a pure black half-length thin line, and you have to marvel at its elegance and quietness. Like the quiet and sad atmosphere hidden in the depths of the heart, old and rich, it is some secret hidden in the depths of the years and smiling. I don't like silk, but I feel that it is always subordinate to the decadent and lonely magnificence. Nor have I ever wondered if this is a hint of an emotional orientation.
Nature, silence, authenticity, has always been a calm attribute of the heart. Those intentions that can be deliberately extracted and separated, and then the contrast between gorgeous and bright, and then the deep affection and enchantment, it is still not a fragrant flower that blooms in my destiny. In the end, it is not long, those time that are gone. It was late autumn, and on a sunny afternoon, she told me word for word about the flow of ten years of love.
He was 22 and she was 26. He has a hundred twists and turns of the juvenile years, she is not stained with the world's warm and clear elegant woman. This kind of love that is immediately in line is a good full moon flower, it is a late meeting and hate, and it is a warm love that lasts in spring and autumn. He lives in the south, she is in the north. When love first arises, it is the spring flowers that bloom in the young man who lifts the sweet and soft cotton candy above his head. And language is the flowers that perfume each other's spring and autumn flowers.
She said he betrayed her after seven years of being in love. Although the words are sparse, they clearly feel helpless and unwilling. She said she was still good to him, but it was just a habit that had been slowly inherited from the old times. Didn't want to say anything. Just want to tell her. What is not willing may no longer be love. It's just a beautiful old age that has been entangled in the emotional world for ten years.
And when love is lost, the years of this mutual stay are like a crack. It's broken, it's dark, it's overstretched embarrassment and confusion. However, each other should leave blank and leave room for it, and do not easily examine and finely correct the inner part of human nature, and do not fulfill the promises that were once sonorous in a broken posture, and do not use the liver and intestines to reach the boundary between love and non-love. What you are deeply attached to may not be love for a long time, but just an old time that has been stained with a thousand kinds of warmth and tenderness.
Creation is not easy, praise is the heart, tips are encouragement. Some of the content of this graphic article originates from the Network, hereby express sincere thanks, if there is any infringement, please contact the author to delete.