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I have been waiting for a snow, a hazy, hearty snow. Waiting for a world of pure ice carving and jade carving that I don’t know or know. I sat in the room and waited. In the small red mud stove, I made a cup of fragrant tea, held it gently with both hands, biting the edge of the cup, staring at the sky with several wisps of clouds floating outside the window, waiting. The north wind has come, snow is laid, you don’t come. I stood under the sky and waited. There were two or three people on the road, and a group of birds jumped across my head with the Twitter of no human. The mountains were silent, the rice fields were decadent, and I looked full of desolation, waiting. Dark clouds gather, freezing rain drops, you don’t come. I hid in the tree pole and waited. Experience a season of vicissitudes, ups and downs in life, shake down the leaves of the trees, generate the appearance you like, and so on. The sun is warm and bright, you won’t come. I stood in the clouds and watched the gooses fly fast; I squeezed myself into the cracks of the soil and listened to the songs of the streams; I stayed in the wind and wandered freely with the wind. I am like dust, like gravel, like a drop of water, I was so humble that I forgot myself. I knew I was waiting for a snow. Wait for a snow, a romantic encounter, a person I love, and another vigorous one. I withered the grass and trees, withered the flowers, drove the swallows back to the south, let the fish dive into the bottom of the pool, and stood in the north wind, making everything look like you like. However, you still don’t come. It turns out that everything is just a self-sentimental me, looking forward to a free-spirited you. If you come or not, you can only take the initiative. Humble Love, crazy waiting. In fact, waiting for an unattainable love is just like walking in this warm winter in the south of the Yangtze River, looking forward to snow, longing for the white, romantic and sincere world, when snow does not come, people have left, leaving themselves standing under the sunny sun, their hearts frozen into ice. Looking forward to a dream, drunk, crying. Love it until you get hurt. Then the pain no longer exists, and only love lasts forever-Mother Teresa said so. You, come or not, the long process I waited for and paid is deeply hidden in my memory. I have imagined your appearance and tangled in the midnight dream for thousands of times, these are all lingering traces in the life I loved. I can’t catch up with the past I paid, and the unknown future is in my hands. Don’t force, don’t look back, don’t be afraid, walk on the rough road alone against the cold north wind. Looking forward to the next reincarnation in my life. Likes (Prose editor: Ke Er) 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…