The wind talks about the story of the sea, the pale blue garden.
Standing in front of the fragmented splash of water, what you see is the memories of the past, and the sad colors ripple in the rare morning fog without rhyme, perhaps the so-called scenery is just that. The wind of the post-winter will baptize the earthly world without the slightest warmth, leaving it as a cloudy sky.
Fog covers everywhere, the same bridge on the water is a good viewing place, the induction of the street lamp light on and off indicates the emergence of the morning light of the people of this land, the faint light cage looks particularly dim under the sparse footsteps at the end of the year, I once wanted to tell others about the passage of time again and again, and because of the invisible barrier again and again to flick their mouths, the reins wrapped around everyone, pulling each person to the other side of time, leaving behind as if noisy, hazy, harsh, do not know who to tell, perhaps cumbersome is born.
The ripples of broken water reflect the autumn color of different places, the fog is covered everywhere, the alley that wants to say goodbye is the first time I pay attention, maybe the true color of the water town is so, the bleak floats on the other side, the alley name water end, the faded memory tells me that people often call it water alley, but it is only through the river water on both sides of the quiet flow, the child's nature of playing water can be fully reflected here, do not remember the previous appearance, shouting and shop is the verbal so-called "foreigner" of the common thing and home, go to the canal, want to see whether this is noisy or trivial, The situation as seen is only a few hanging iron doors, the cold wind like a mockery once again blows up the iron sheet to make the eardrum vibrate, the sound urges people to leave the style of variety, but the so-called desolation is not so, coupled with their own light smile, the cold of winter do not know whether it can be reached.
I want to find my own scenery but can't find it everywhere except strange and even the tedious things of material, being alone is the past, looking forward is still lonely, the sound, the fog is swallowing everything as always, such a strange scene is in front of you, but how is it so familiar. The first yellow apricot leaves were scattered on the ground, separated by people on both sides, neither of whom wanted to move forward, but also unwilling to leave the other, hesitating, and the second leaf also fell. Taking a step is a scene that makes oneself familiar and disgusted, the goal and dependence are combined with each other, and the only thing left is alone, unenlightened, wandering around with the illusion of satisfying oneself; then running away, looking at each other and laughing, and moving forward with time.
I want to find my own blue ocean, but when I leave my past life, I seem to have lost everything, leaving from a garden and lotus pond of my own, looking for a high point, looking at the scenery of this city in a familiar place, looking at the city helplessly with the eyes of the weakened cone cells, more and more faint, more and more dark.
Books are one of the few things I bring, flipping through and browsing, what appears is still impetuous, inclusive, and quiet seems to be just a passerby, a book adapted by acquaintances, telling and reflecting the story of life, but also my own story, without a trace of pity for my own life.
But has my life really changed when I came to this new place and new time? The answer was already answered in that scene. I had been afraid, afraid that my future would be alone, without this familiar noise, would I really get used to it? A golden shard fell in the sun, why should I be in a noisy place, why would I not want to get rid of the filth? Yes, it's the habit of people to move forward.
Dependence has long taken root in my heart, looking for tranquility but can only look at the flower garden in front of me, it is sunset, the light fog has turned into the purple of the sunset in the wind, I did not hope to stand tall and look far, but life and heart can not be shirked, yes, another year has passed, in the idle now, it is time to make your own life choices.
Life is a lonely journey, choosing your own life is Mr. Lin Qingxuan is also the author's goal and expectation of the world, looking at the pale color of the world, deciding his own life, forcing himself to embark on the road of depth, leaving that noisy place, looking back, the road he has walked and the road sign he wrote down, after many revisions, has also become the foreshadowing of his future.
Pale, blue with the sea reflected in the wind.
The third fallen leaf fell...
Author: Xu Wenlong