Scattered

In this season again, the bright morning was a little cold, so I involuntarily moved out all the down jackets. It seems that there is always an inexplicable sense of rejection for autumn, and there is always no sentimental feeling of origin, so I can’t say why. This autumn is not dying, so we witness the journey of life one after another, presenting grand ceremonies one after another. Sunflowers grow from flowers to fruits to maturity, pepper grows from flowers to green buds to Red big horns, melon and melon from small yellow flowers to small leather balls to big basketball, eggplant from small purple flowers to small eggplants to big eggplants, as if life is so great. Walking on the road of the old house, I could not see clearly the road under my feet, like an old friend. The scene of prosperity and prosperity in the past came to my mind again. I instantly went back to those years, the years I had experienced. The path in the past could not be seen clearly. There were no feet in the weeds. Pear trees which used to be covered with pears were now bustling and nowhere to be seen. At that time, the small willow trees planted could be protected from wind and rain. There is also the lush osmanthus in front of the door, floating in the weeds with the wind. How could I know its existence if I didn’t know it. The once bustling mountain is now desolate. The scenes in front of my eyes made my heart desolated to the North Pole instantly, or as I grew older, I became more and more sentimental. I didn’t like this kind of myself. I still liked the days when I used to be silly and mindless, after many years in a trance, looking back at some things I once wrote, I felt very funny, exaggerated and arrogant, naive and naive, now think about how I had the courage to write down those words at that time, and I was still so unscrupulous. Now I am a little timid and dare not to express my feelings or even some thoughts at will. People seem to be at a certain age and begin to become unsociable. They miss the past that they once disliked. They always feel sad and always hope to surround their relatives. I don’t like loud noise, walking in the bustling crowd, telling others bad mood, or sharing joy. It seems that it doesn’t matter even if only you are left in the world. This may also be a way of living. I said I don’t like autumn, maybe the feeling of wandering always makes people sad. Pulling people into deep melancholy, the more struggling, the more desolate. Former warm sun, dream suddenly, people wake has cool autumn. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring

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