It seems familiar, that period of time when I closed my eyes, listened to the wind, sucked the breath of everything, stretched out my hands, I think at that moment, my mind had already flown to the unknown distance.
Quietly, forgetting the name and desire, as if one step closer to the purest moment of desire.
Love or life, there is only one belief left, rumors are blown away by the wind, I am here, resting for a while, looking for the way home, and no longer confused.
Maybe at that moment, I will think a lot to entertain myself.
Now, how many people are lying beside their lovers?
How many children are still playing in their dreams, resisting the alarm that leads to the school.
How many people stay up all night, just like me, thinking about rambling stories.
Who sang songs every night, but was suddenly struck by the loneliness, and the tears blurred the night makeup.
Troubles, sorrows, pressures, happiness, happiness, simplicity, all mixed together in this turbid time in the early morning, the old and the new alternate, but vaguely awaiting delivery, tomorrow.
Tomorrow is coming every day, but who knows that he will really come, the time of each day may be just a continuation of the tedious and ordinary, the days, day by day, just like this.
There is no joy, no sadness, how many people do not have the meaning of being obsessed with happiness, but they continue to be so happy. On this stage of life day after day, they play their own dramas, and add a glass of wine to those who are willing to pay attention, even if they are not Dreaming of death and drunkenness can also be a dream, a beautiful dream for the traveler, the way forward.
Get ready to meet the dramatic rising sun, the mask is no longer scary, and under the mask, perhaps full of tears, go pilgrimage to your own truth.
Life and death don't last for years, and the soul never comes to dream.
When on a chaotic night, I suddenly meet my old self, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Hesitating in place, unable to touch the former child face, silently watching him blurry, sitting in a dark and dead dream, waiting for this dream to end silently.
Powerless to turn back.
Courage, in which barren grass was abandoned, I no longer know, and now, I do not want to know.
Let the former self, see the secular self.
He is like a reluctant soul. After he can't see the person he loves, he disappears lonely in front of the person who is ruthless to him.
Before leaving, he was still watching, clasping his hands tightly, as if there were traces of time on it, he was waiting for an appointment, another himself.
Bit by bit, he drifted away with the wind, and what he didn't dare to count were the tears that hurt his soul.
I rubbed my eyes hard, it hurt, but there was no sign of tears, I had to laugh, laughing something, just kept laughing.
Then continue on your way.
Let me, sing with all the voices of the mountain.
Sigh Cold
Wind
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