Don’t think about whether there is rebirth in the world of life in the mountains and rivers. Walking into the fleeting fireworks and walking in the world is a grand event of harvest, the scenery along the way, the things seen by the people you meet, good or bad, or sad Or hi, it's all my harvest, all my luck.
I came across text that day, and text became my most intimate friend. Use half a line of fragmented words to break sentences and write a season of romantic romance; invite a cup of tea to savor the various forms of life; pour a pot of turbid wine and drink up the joys and sorrows of the world.
When reality and dream are intertwined, I draw ink, shake off a moment of memory between the lines, write down the affection on the plain white paper, humble to the left, upright to the right, no one is prosperous, no noisy, silent like me, Enron alone.
Northern Song thinker Zhang Zai said in the "Zhengmeng Zhongzheng" article: "If you love one's own heart, you will do your best." In this world, there may be no real empathy, but there is no real empathy.
I am a real person, not as quiet as the words, I will be tired, but magnanimous, dedicated, dedicated, lover!
May all the painful past be dealt with with a smile! Silently like me, happy alone.
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