Life

At the end of April, start a short trip, simple luggage and simple self, simply wave goodbye. The mood of not wandering also becomes relaxed and casual. The scenery outside the window becomes different, green and warm. The city is still noisy and prosperous. The boundless grassland is boundless, sending out merciful light under the setting sun; It is the eternal dream of the corridor Bridge and the platform deep in the dark. The train moves forward, and the whole world falls asleep, I heard the music from the rail with two ears. I hope the sun is slightly warm and flowers are blooming during this trip, but the weather is always confused. Person’s life, should like a cup of tea, 1.1 points to soak, slowly taste, carefully aftertaste, in the dense tea in slowly realize fragrance of distant taste. I think traveling should also be in such a mood. On a journey, I still remember nothing more than the scenery along the way, a city. On that day, the editor teacher asked me with words; Everyone said words were like people, but you were different from words, you have said so much in words, but you don’t speak much? It was mostly a slight smile, and I answered with a smile; If my words were hanging in the river, the teacher laughed loudly; Well, yes, the girl answered very well. Maybe I am at leisure, without the urgency of time and the things I have to do, so I can speak few words in my life, be unique, and be unrestrained and boundless in my words. But I know that time cannot last yesterday, and some fate cannot stop at first sight. When some past events and names are just traces, I have no regrets. When some feelings are just past, I will not regret, because I have treated every past attentively. Time is like a bicycle walking far away, and the reflection of time is quietly missing. In the Cup and Cup of season, I lean on the wind and look close to my eyes, count the joys and sorrows of the fleeting years, the human feelings are warm and the world is changeable. The plain clothes are light-looking, walking in the text, keeping the heart warm with the most plain fireworks. At dusk, sitting leisurely in the coffee shop, looking at the window, there were mostly students coming and going. In the history book of coffee cake, the breeze curtain ended. I asked how many chances to win, but it was only a pleasure, but not a word. I think of my distant school days. Every time I take a bus, I would like to sit in the last row near the window. In this way, we can have a panoramic view of the crowd and the scenery outside the window without being noticed and disturbed. This feeling is beautiful and private. I sat there quietly, thinking wildly; I laughed when I passed away. I had experienced the vicissitudes of the sea, the warmth and warmth of human feelings. I had endured it. I had a deep and shallow fate, and I had a pain. The journey of life is just a rush. The ditch along the road keeps crossing, the sadness along the road and the constant transcendence. Enjoy a spring flower, watch a season of falling red, treasure a piece of understanding, journey, is also a passing through compatible with gains and losses. Passing through cities one after another, walking through streets one after another, looking up at the sky one after another and witnessing parting one after another. Finally, I can say frankly that I am no longer so persistent. Life is a thick book. People, to live, is to write their own stories with their lives. The Book of Life is either thick or light, deep or shallow, footprints are pens, and years are paper. The combination of character and encounter, the choice and the weather are intertwined, and finally it will be fixed into an ending that cannot be rewritten in one’s life. No matter it was painstaking efforts or understatement, the first thing that moved me was myself. White Paper and black words, writing down and taking root, no matter sad or happy, ending, is perfect. Time is the attachment walking in words. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring

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