If no tomorrow

I have seen reunion, separation and reunion, and I have also read that time is like a shuttle. If I knew there was no tomorrow, maybe there wouldn’t be so many missing and no one would understand. The inscription of the flower season in tears time passed day after day, but I still didn’t want to take away my former deep love. It was still a person who loved to stare blankly at the computer. Every minute, maybe someone is born in this world, or maybe someone has stepped on the road of Heaven since this moment. In that flower season, I still remember where I used to cry. I used to love to write some sad stories, and I love to write some sad things. This has not changed, but I still love to write sadness. But I don’t know when, all the sad stories I wrote have slipped away, hide all of them no longer. Those sad stories will be published in the diary. The last page of the pale yellow notebook is written. If there is no tomorrow, please bury your missing. Every minute I wonder why I shed tears. Is that flower season really worth my tears? I still clearly remember the past a long time ago, but I still don’t want to face the present a long time later. When someone asks me who I am, maybe I don’t want to say it. Because no one understands me. Even in reality, I am still a child who loves to write sad stories and listen to sad songs. Sadness can’t be taken away, but early autumn is a beginning full of sadness. Looking at the ice cream shop full of people, watching the one who fought with his best friends on that road, chasing after each other. A long time ago, I thought that if I patted my palm, I could share happiness and hardship. Until they all faded out of my stage. Maybe I am no longer going that way. So, tomorrow. Whether there will be a new sunrise tomorrow, and then there will be a little bright sunshine. The place where I used to cry, the place where I used to cry, standing under the maple tree alone, the breeze blew across my face, as if the leaves also felt the slight sadness and fell down. Remember, it’s rainy day. The rain and fog blurred the glass, drew a heart on the glass, and then wrote his own name inside. Unconsciously, at the last moment, he drew a feather arrow and pierced the heart with his own name. Now, it will not exist, because many wipes have washed away that heart. But, where is the heart of soul and body? Why can’t it be washed off all the time? On the contrary, the wound becomes deeper and deeper. The fatal pain made me understand that the wound could not be wiped off. I still remember that I like getting wet in the rain, but I always don’t like umbrella. Walking alone by the river, watching the water slowly rising up, I was always wondering whether the water could take me away, leave here, leave this painful place. Looking at those people who had a car accident, at that moment, they bumped up, but they flew. In this way, they left and went further. Watching the family members on TV, they were crying. Crying so embarrassed! I don’t know why, day by day, there are more and more things to be afraid of, fear of injury, fear of losing. Heart will pain. Maybe I have never forgotten you, but that group has already lost your figure. Those actions that I have every day have become my most heartbreaking posture. If there is no tomorrow, will that hug be the warmest picture. It is getting closer and closer to winter, and it is time for us to make good promises day by day. So, if there is no tomorrow, is this promise no longer counted. Or as long as a long time ago, till old age, till winter when I still don’t know you. When it was still in the dark at 6 o’clock, I went to school in the dark. Those roads may be what I need to go. If there is no tomorrow, why don’t I meet you in so many winter days. You just passing? We no tomorrow? If there is no tomorrow, why are you lost on the road when you and I are in a hurry. Separation, but I don’t know what our relationship is now. I don’t want to worry about anything. Now, we don’t have tomorrow if, I still look forward to tomorrow, if, and tomorrow when those sad words disappear. Whether there is no one coming into my space to see if there are more messages from others day by day, looking at those who used to, just past and don’t want to go back. The place that no one knows, maybe no one will know the flower season under tears forever. Because, there is no tomorrow

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