And make me blue

These words are written to the life that has always been appreciate each other. They are like the salty summer breeze gently rippling on the beach. The low waves receded faintly, leaving a few colorful broken shells. The soft pure golden sand gave off a slight halo in the sunset, and a group of seagulls flew up with white wings flashing. Those words shuttling through my thin youth fell asleep quietly at the end of the ancient wooden bridge. They sing, pray and go round and round day by day, which is endless, like a baby with shining angel halo, so pure and serene. We will definitely meet each other, because we had an agreement in our previous life. It was a plain drawing which was too quiet. Autumn was like a premeditated yellow leaves scattered all over the floor. The wind blew Platycodon grandiflorum and raised their gloomy back, leaving a full of bleak and desolate. The sunlight passes through the clouds and hits the mottled wall through the withered branches. The Dusk is slightly cool and the mountain is hazy, stretching into endless Pang silence. However, this winter has always been a surprise. I suddenly felt endless disappointment. It is like every tiny warm Miss immersed in the long river of age that can never come back. Time, place, character and scene are all of the story, but those trance plots gradually become profound and unpredictable. I kissed the skirt of time in the wind and snow flying all over the sky. Occasionally, I looked through the previous words and sentences, and saw the young man who went through the Mongolian forest to see her with a nervous look or a stubborn expression, I saw the young man who escaped from history class, chemistry class, physics class, math class, playing basketball in the court and fighting indifferently, he was seen with armor rushing into a partial body with scales and said Fuck in the thorny indifferent crowd. It seems like a lifetime, the traces carved by time are all unforgettable bits and pieces one by one. I miss that teenager. The Twilight overflows like water, enchanting the sunset glow at dusk. The traffic flows endlessly in this bustling city, with the neon flashing and the traffic in a hurry. I saw people flowing in a hurry in the small restaurant on the corner, coming and going outside the cold and windy window. The setting sun reflected on their woolen coats, drawing out soft halo. I have been wandering in so many places and walked so fast that I forgot to look back. It turned out that I didn’t have so much time and opportunity to remember one by one. No one has ever left the stage like running water. Time roared forward one year and two years, leaving us who were still standing in the same place and looking around blankly. Those gossips and gossips accompanied by the mighty momentum of growth all turned into lost mood, the certainty of words and the addition of scars. Who picked up the most conical pain in the dream and decorated it into a new beginning. It is just the plot in the dream that can’t write a story after all. At the end of this wind, flowers, snow and moon, I drank all the snow. When I was ten years younger than now, I would also think about what the world would be like ten or two years later. I am ten years older than that time, and I have learned to stand in the bustling world where the wine is full of lights, singing and dancing, sitting on the top of the dormitory building with cigarettes and drinking Snowflake Beer, pretend to be 2B young literary youth and then look at the world like a fool. I really want to tell myself ten years ago. See, the barren look, hypocritical appearance, fragile body and every arrogant breath in this world are all beyond your imagination. In that summer, I was like a flying sparrow wandering in the bright time filled with cicadas and sunshine. There is no air ticket, no luggage, no notice and all the vouchers related to the distance. I can still sit in the small town and eat a bowl of hot-dry noodles in a small but clean shop, use Hanchuan who is familiar with the heart to say sweet words or platitudes. Later, it was a sentimental word, which ruthlessly divided the short time into fragmented fragments, which made people unprepared and difficult to parry. Later, it is now. Every day now, I miss my hometown. These words, through the snow and snow in the north, are naked and frankly exposed in the vast and boundless white. It is a lonely romantic past, I miss the warmth of memory in the indifferent world with a wide sword and a wide axe. The stumbling walking lost too many unrecoverable feelings. These words, sleeping on the broken pen tip, are like those scattered summer fragrance floating at the crossroads of mist crossing, becoming unreachable and hard to be recovered forever. These words, hidden in my chest, are letters sent to time. Long time no see. But now, after so many years, I found out. Long time no see, just a farewell. Under the cloudy sky, what is receding is the burning color. The light Twilight is full of mature yellow. The cold comes too fast. The Dream and tranquility covering the sleeping people’s heads are easily broken. Yesterday was full of bleak, but it was just a desolate snow. People in the wind and snow gradually lost their warm hands to forget the mellow handwriting and the tender and affectionate words, leaving the lost and irreversible mood in the long river of time. Who is full of hope at the end of the long river after experiencing the wind and frost, overlooking another distant Mobei on the way back from the snow, 2011.12.12

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