In the winter night, I write down my thoughts

Things in this world are always repeated over and over again, and the foreshadowings buried are always mentioned, so sadness becomes a kind of emotion that can be vented. The play like life is very appropriate, but we can’t predict the blurred life. Faith becomes the pure land of the soul. We stop at the junction of today and yesterday, imagining to change the ending of tomorrow. After a long journey, we looked back but didn’t see the footprints. We doubted that it was because the steps were too steady? Or too light? The memory is buried very carefully. We lift it carelessly and look at the mirror habitually. It turns out that the waste of time has never changed. Young and frivolous, perfect for forty-five, or is the setting sun near dusk? Or yesterday, today and tomorrow? Those may not matter any more. We are all people who have stories. When there are more stories, there will be legends, biographies and topics after dinner. Where are the people who hated and loved now? Who’s the girl I love? I no longer think that the chapters of life are pieced together by memory. Is the story of Chapter 3 and section 4 tragic or comedy? Maybe I will never know, but beautiful stories always have ups and downs. The snow in winter, the leaves in autumn, the rain in summer and the green in spring start again after the four seasons, and our story continues. I just felt a little uneasy in this winter, so I fell asleep and dreamed. I saw the playing of rolling hoop with him that year and the purity and beauty of her holding balloons beside the railway, I saw the brother who caught crabs together in the river, and the mother’s phone and sigh when she was far away from home. I forgot how long the smile was banned by the haze, but it was clear to see through it gradually. I will still look forward to the journey that I still want to continue. In this winter without snow, I imagine the romance that I can see snowflakes covering your hair. Will you let go of the wound? I remembered the wound I got in my yellowed diary, and the Utopia in my dream was left to me. It is said that music can interpret the charm of contradiction among people, and complex emotions will be washed by pure melody, so I am also learning. 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. Maybe because of a certain commitment, or because of a certain… Be good at listening to different voices and opinions On October 6th, I published a travel essay: “beautiful autumn scenery”, which was obtained by many literary websites… Read The Bridges of Madison County “When the white moth spreads its wings, you can come to me at any time”. I think, if I am a man, be accepted… From today on, I want to be happy I read “the biography of Hulan River” long time ago, and I remember that I was really in a heavy mood for a long time. Which characters caused me… Sick time I sneezed one after another these days. I said someone was reading me and others said I was sick. Finally, the doctor also said I was…