In winter in northern China, the smoke is thin

In the winter of northern China, the blue and smoky lines are thin, and the cold and silent fish and geese fall down. In the winter of northern China, the blue and smoky lines are thin, and the amorous Moon is shy. Inscription dead wood and withered grass, desolate to the bottom of my heart, blue and smoky, gray sky, bare branches, lonely bird nests, the wind is still cold, the water is frozen ice, familiar slim feeling. The scenery outside the window is so bleak and desolate, and the mind is contradictory. Everyone has scab scars in his heart. I am is a lonely traveller who parades on the edge of the world of mortals with indifferent eyes and plum branches and thin shadows, the back is always lonely, and the dust is lonely when a person is strangers. Fragmented, everything is what it used to be, and the heart gradually becomes calm and calm. If the green mountains are still the same, and the smoke is lingering, no one knows what kind of difference is, familiarity is always the old shadow in my heart. It is so beautiful that I am reluctant to let the reality overlap. Because once I get close, it will disappear faster. I begin to be rational and keep distance. My hands became cold, my hands were rubbing white in the red glow, my eyes became dimly discernible, and I sat in front of the door and looked at the distance. The sky was gloomy, white and white, and the green was wheat seedlings, pine and cypress, Holly, are covered with dust settled earth green, very familiar beauty, as if we have experienced the world of mortals in our growth, hurt and learned to hide. The scenery is thin, the heart is thin and cool, I count the branches of withered trees in front of the window, a thick branch, divided into twigs, crisscrossed and extended upward, that is also our life, stumbling, retreating and advancing, generally speaking, it is still moving forward. I still remember its green in summer, just like I carefully remember once, broken or beautiful. Stepping on the ice frozen on the ground, the harsh sound of fragmentation, just like the beauty of the past was crushed naked, painful and painful, but had to go through it in person, looking for hope in despair, maybe, the most beautiful scenery is just around the corner, believing and persevering, suffering and longing. I always think that tomorrow will be better, so I forget the pain and leave it to today. It was dark early, and there was no moon or stars I wanted to see in the dark sky. There was some disappointment, and the snow on those days had already melted without trace, there is no snow shadow that I want to see in the corner. It Is affirmative to lower my head. I know that what I want to look for at this moment is all my habits. Disappointment is the first time. Maybe, when we are getting farther and farther, some things will disappear sooner or later, and the price is inevitable. My choice does not regret, and disappointment at least means that I have expected it. Life is more miserable than I expected, time is more pale than I expected, and life is more desolate than I expected. It can be said that everything is not the scenery I imagined, the thin me in the loneliness of time, the slim scenery in the bleak time, I am against the scenery, and the scenery is still desolate to me. The scenery is the background of my world of mortals, I am the message of emotion of the scenery. If people feel cold, more miserable than the low temperature, more miserable than the scenery, more desolate than the world, and unbearable, no one is willing to watch another person’s little decay, bit by bit dilapidated, the heart is a crack torn by tears, and the pain is a convex mark patched up. The thin body is too weak to bear the wind. I dare not remember and do not want to recall the flowing years. Intermittent words are not sentences, and intermittent words are not meaningful. No one can see the emotions hidden in someone’s heart, which are love, hate, infatuation, numbness, warmth and haggard, it is quiet, desolate, free scenery, and offset steps, which have already been fixed yesterday, and come back, the cold of the next floor is soaked. Maybe, I did not do anything for the one I love. I just buried myself deep in my heart, just like the wine fermented in the ground, which could only smokes myself with fragrance, I always remember that I am still in love when I am drunk, and I am deeply in love, but I am unable to go further in the world of mortals, because I am tired and collapsed when I am drunk. I love too much, and finally I am overwhelmed. Winter is the burial of decay, the breeding of Bud and the resurgence of dead ashes. Only when there is no anger can there be anger. Only when there is no green, can there be green. Only when there is no scenery can there be scenery in the sea. The dead trees are going to spring, and the declining grass is going to be green, you can always see the most beautiful scenery after despair. You should learn to respect life and remember to wait for life. In the winter of northern China, it is smoky, thin and thin, like a graceful and graceful girl, and also like a staggering old man, who is desolate and devastated, shocking, and lonely, the thin and cool indifference is quiet, the smoke is long, and the dry and bitter is cold. There is no need to do it for someone who is gorgeous and does not need to make up for him. In this way, the unparalleled perseverance in the weak and thin. In the winter of northern China, the blue and smoky plain face and the slim and elegant appearance are unparalleled. In the winter of northern China, the military uniform of blue and smoky color, and the slender city fell to the country. In the winter of northern China, the blue and smoky lines are thin, and the cold and silent fish and geese fall down. In the winter of northern China, the blue and smoky lines are thin, and the amorous Moon is shy. Postscript: I have seen the old green winter in southern China, the gentle and quiet, the convergent scenery, the strangeness and peace of mind. I am greedy for it. Only then did I understand the blue and smoky winter in the north, the Frank innocence, the forced desolation, the familiarity and the heart move. I am sentimentally attached. Xiaoxiang ripples the second day after returning home in January, 2012 Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. Reading from afar, it is just above that snowfield. The snow is really beautiful, after all it is spring… Waiting Waiting is a kind of persistence, sticking to a certain belief and never giving up. 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