coughed a few times out of habit, his head was buzzing, and he lost all sleep. Just enough time to think about some people and things.
Of course, I was just meditating. I was afraid that if I exerted force, my body would easily collapse. This is the work of my mind.
I subconsciously shook my head, and a wave of heat rushed from the soles of my feet to my forehead, like a tree, standing firm in the wind and waves.
How can an epidemic be nothing more than a storm?
The repair of the mind is much more difficult than the repair of the body.
The world outside the window caters to my inner tranquility. I imagined myself sitting on the ridge of time, with the things around me sleeping soundly at my feet.
I can hear the gentle breath.
The cold night is a quilt, and those restless creatures under the quilt are spying on the movement on the ground.
I'm not alone.
Can you imagine thousands of lives dormant at your feet, swaying and rushing, just waiting for the call of spring?
I just sat in the darkness, feeling that the night was a quiet river, washing away the floating dreams.
My thoughts made small waves, very lightly skirting the rocks, and disappeared into the moonlight.
In fact, this world is a gurgling underground river, which never stops flowing.
My thought gave birth to a bean leaf sprout, sprouting in the dark shadow.
pictures come from the Internet
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