Obsession

In May, the wind blows green leaves, and the new ideas are dim. I am not surprised or happy, and it is full of sadness. What is that? Days slide through the fragments under the calendar day by day. They are silent and unobtrusive. An inexplicable sadness welled up in my heart. Is it a memory of the past or an unpredictable future? In the past, senior three, I carefully read and write every letter you wrote, every word, and poured into the young and frivolous thoughts, such as the baby’s breath, slight but full of hope and strength. Turning cocoons into butterflies, after the pain, flying between the clouds and leaves, singing Iris, without too many folds, it spread over the ups and downs like this. In that year, I can’t remember what color the flowers were, there was no impression on several people playing on the playground. Only the clean shirt was so clear that it never left. Whether it was the sorrow and happiness after the encounter, the gloomy day and the silent day and night, at that time, it was endowed with a strong meaning, which could not tell the reason, could not tell the whole story, and was performed silently. On the stage without lights and music, it performed plays that others didn’t understand. You know, I know, that’s all. Sorrow and sorrow are only won and lost at a moment, but I don’t, because it is a kind of sadness without sorrow, the time when I cry, I will never forget those who stay with me in my whole life. They are not stars and cannot catch up with the moon. But in the place where my little heart is located, they are shining like stars all their lives! The Sunshine crossed the leaves and cast mottled silhouette on the ground. At the gap, there was a kind of thinking. It drifted away from the world without the smell of fireworks. It was tasteless, silent, but powerful, at the beginning of high school, many people said that Daiyu was an inner show. At that time, I didn’t understand. Sensitive and melancholy eyes were always full of indifference to the world. My eyes were also there, but they were different, it has traces of love and signs of stationing, but no one understands that it has been desperate, lost and hesitant, just like July after April, the same leaves, after changing the color, the flickering Slim was full of thriller, the lost one was not there, the returned one was not fresh, and the past that could not be found could be passed by. The days were always moving forward, and people kept changing again and again, the story and the ending are always unmatched. I think I will slip through without passing by, but there is an intersection. I can’t figure it out, and I can’t figure it out. On Earth, who is interested in it and where does it come from? Once upon a time, I, you, you, you were all very warm. The familiarity lit up by the night would be cloudy, and the blank that could not be filled would be tortuous, sad and turbulent, no matter how much I could not return to the meeting of God, I was silent in my missing, but I couldn’t shine any more. I became the most familiar stranger with them. No one is to blame. The branches and leaves without roots and buds will only drift in the sky and disappear among the crowds, ending. New people, there, wait, their own opening and ending, silence, looking back, without the original heartache, yourefusteoletitgo. lnyourdeepsleepwhatareyoudreamingof. onthethoughtkeepspinninginmyhead. The end of the day, the love that has not left, the return journey, you, me, the station, the platform, no one likes (prose editor: drops of ink hurt) the snow in spring

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