Rolling red dust, each of us is a wandering traveler. No one is sure which station they will stop at today and which waiting look they will miss tomorrow. The flowers bloom and end forever, and the fate is gathered and scattered. Life is to boil a moonshine, drunk with joy and drunk with sorrow. Every flower event is a transformation, withering or rebirth, and although the past is full of dust, it is still a dream. And we, when we lower our eyebrows and smile, learn to compromise with the years and talk Zen with the landscape. Put the love and hate of the past, deliver it to the text, guard a window of smoke and moon, abandon all the confusion, and meet the most beautiful self. As for the scenery that was missed in those times, let it drift freely as the wind outside the window. Those who remain in life cherish it with a grateful heart and are close to the bottom of their hearts. I only hope that no matter what kind of scenery it will be in the future, I will remember all the touches and beauty of the past! Good morning and auspicious! May all friends be happy and happy every day!
