Vine flowers. Flowers fall and flowers bloom in a period, and flowers fall and fall are also lost. But I prefer to hide myself in an inconspicuous corner, buried deep within myself. Let yourself quietly comb yourself, hide the wounded words in the most dense corner, and suddenly find that it has always been you.
Perhaps, there is no longer any change in the things that make people feel afraid.
After the flowers fell, tears rained down. The flowers are fragrant and complaining about the drizzle, the monologue of the rain. Flowers fall, red faces. Who understands the sadness of its fall? Only because I know that after the rain and flowers fall in the spring, it is a new kind of rebirth.
I grew up in the alley of the Mouth of the Great Yuzhi Water, and in this ancient alley, I cut many old wind chimes, which squeaked and creaked; climbing the stairs, picking up the stairs, I knew to leave a few words. However, there are always a few deep impressions in my memory, that is, whether it was once when I could know my own intentions, and the despair of not seeing Da Yu Zhishui for several years; there were always three hairs coming to me together, treading water on the stone road with their feet, and then walking behind the dog's ass, humming a little tune along the way, so uncomfortable.