Flowering Tree

Night is always the most pleasant time of my day, and the old desk lamp glows in the dim light. There was a breeze blowing out of the window, and the misty tea fragrance was sent to the tip of the nose. I gently stroked the folds of the book, and the words in the book tried to slowly slide over my heart with the gurgling spring water. In the old saying cloud book, What Yan Ruyu said is probably this kind of feeling. I always feel that if there seems to be no Roland incense between the words, I would never try it on. The book cover has been a little damaged because I have read it many times, and every time I hold it, I feel like holding my lover’s face and gently touching it, over and over again. I always don’t want to stop. She is the most delicate woman I know. Life is like a play, and a play is like a life, which is probably her most incisive explanation of life. Under the talented face, is it just the sadness of tears falling in others’ stories? No, maybe in the story that resonates with countless people, different people have different excuses to cry. She said, God gave me many wishes and what I wanted. I received them one by one quickly or slowly. In this short decade or so, I had many wishes and spent much or little energy to realize it. But when I finally turned around and looked at it. The messy footprints of different shades. It scares me a lot. Those footprints were carved on my young heart like wounds. Then, I began to complain about the unfairness of fate. I stared at the air all day long in a daze. It seems that I forgot that there is still a way ahead. I opened the book which had been abandoned for a long time, and suddenly a line of words jumped into my eyes. In that strange Street, the lights were as brilliant as the lights. Hehe, I laughed at the sky. No matter what I did, the lights in the world never stopped. Youth is a book that is too hasty. I haven’t had time to read it carefully. I have turned to the last page. Xi Murong’s poems add a touch of tenderness to my youth which is nowhere to be placed. Young girls always poem. Among those texts and words, words and words. Our sadness and happiness are so consistent. What is happiness? It is love, money, or high desire. I want to I am happy. What I hold in my hand is a woman who has experienced vicissitudes of life and the shelter of that long-lost soul. The ups and downs in the world, the ups and downs, the pain and loneliness in the heart are always hard to find the spiritual reunion. Do you remember, remember a little red in the green all over the mountains and a little turbid in the thousands of cleanness. Every time I think of this sentence, I always feel deeply touched in my heart. People laugh at me for being too crazy. I laugh at whether others can see or not. What kind of free and easy free mood can get such understanding on Earth. I was like a lazy runner. I clearly knew that I should keep running, but I always stopped, stunned or missed the past. If you really pray for five hundred years, the Buddha will really turn me into a tree. Then, I must not grow on the road he must pass. Because I don’t want to wait without regrets for five hundred years, and finally turn into a floating petal. I want to turn into a tree and grow in the continuous mountains. I am small and humble, but I enjoy myself. Quietly open, silently withered……

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