Memory

First, I have traveled a certain road in Molan city, so I remember. There was also a dim light all the way, dense in my mind, and then lost. I think, what else is worth recalling, absolutely not, easy to forget, until now, suddenly sober, understand life, is a kind of experience. The fleeting time following is blurred into a hazy wound in the heart, which is always painful. However, there are also unconscious moist eyes, various memories, inexplicable loneliness. Once again, I felt that the distance was so far away that I was just disappointed about it. It seemed that only in this way could we get to know each other. Standing on the bridge, only the turbid water reflects the light of the city and blurs into an impression in my mind. I don’t want to sink into the water, the leaves are powerless to drift on the water, the flowers are washed, and the knot is nothing more than this. The dirty fermentation and all kinds of sour and rotten street corners are nothing more than this. Leaving like this, without turning back, resolutely made up his mind. Leaving doesn’t matter pain, only indifferent truth, another world integrates with you. Second, the old country is another kind of experience. The body is always tired, but it is with a different kind of joy. People are always easy to be full of hope, but not often discouraged. It is difficult to find a suitable position wherever you find yourself, and even some of them have become unfamiliar bitter smiles. After several days of drying, the air is no different. The lonely scene, looking back, I don’t know whether my choice is wrong or right, as if I always live in a muddle, as if I run away every day, the mountain stream which was not far away from the front of the former gate was filled with flat ground, and trees standing on the bank of the cliff alone that could no longer return to their hometowns in my memory. The branches stood thin and weak, as if they were old at dusk, disappear the lonely memories together. Who will laugh in the world? I only face the wind and test the wild power, because I am a coward. The whole body was surrounded by a kind of power, and the sound of the wind was really on the ear, which made me feel much relaxed. Although it was so short, life was just an instant breath, I have a true meaning worth tasting, but I don’t want to think more about the deep meaning. Poor is, I can no longer let go for a long time, so the chill forced me to leave again. I looked up at the sky, a cloud scattered like thin cotton wool, in the dusk that has not yet entered the twilight, the world is clear immediately. Then there were dark shadows in a short time, and the dark shadows of trees which were once scared finally disappeared. People are much desolate, and the foundation of ancestors can not last long now, which is the so-called power of evolution. Only when light and shadow dissipated from front of my eyes did I feel that many days were just passed away, while complaining was just the void in the fermented heart. Knowing that many things I have done seems to be a forced reaction of life. As for myself, I am used to being in an abnormal state. In the old years, it was still so cold, but the winter which was not cold would be suffocated in the warmth. The hurried travellers and the continuing grave were covered with dead weeds, the only one who saw the trace was the ash that had been stored last year, but now it is invariably repeated. The smoke cannon should be a thrill of audio-visual, especially in graves, people who were not forgotten immediately, the meaning of existence may be here. After all, the end of human beings is still the grave, so there is a heart of awe. As for reincarnation, it is better to be a world in your heart. People need to live with hope, respecting life and fearing death, which is probably the case. Then after the ceremony, there was a strong wind on the deserted land, especially on the edge of the Jian River. I found myself in the corner of the gap, and a tree from far away hit the sunset alone, the light of sunset hit my eyes lonely. Or, this is all of us. Chasing is not the whole of life. The beginning and end of each scene, because of what, so life, many meanings, never understand. I closed my eyes in sleepless sleep. There were many rushing scenes in front of me, such as collision, laughter, looming crying, passers-by walking, the roar of wind in the valley, and then I returned to my original position, the swordsmen whose swords come to the world, the hermit whose plain clothes are fluttering, the fire of the battlefield and the cold ancient temple. Then the vast tremors and silent silence of the world were once a flash of my mind, and the blue lights were alone with ghostly eyes, For this virtual born. Distracting thoughts and constant inner mess are interlacing, spreading and devouring. A flower and a world, this is a space; A leaf and a Spring and Autumn period, this is the time for reading. The night was full of wind and rain, the flash of thunder and lightning, the pouring rain curtain, the sound of the window glass, and the eyes of the people in the window only solidified on the bean-sized rain beads, then the everlasting sky escaped from the dark shadow, leaving only the cool atmosphere in the air and the seemingly invisible fragrance of the mixed grass in the wet soil in the field. The limited things I used to do in limited time seem to be precious now. Because I can’t go back and forth, I have a different experience. But now all the empty survival and tired consciousness are nothing more than ridiculous sarcasm and weird fear in my mind, so I do some overlapping of boring illusion, peeling off the traces left by the years in the space layer by layer, with eyes closed. However, only in this way, there is no new idea. Even if you are in peace, it is hard to find a peace that truly belongs to you, this is a weird normal for a long time. Immortals know a lot of things, and we can’t change them. For example, the death of a human being, you can’t decide the occurrence point of this event, but you may have the omen of the future, the feeling of unwillingly wanting to leave suddenly made the turbid eyes shed a few drops of turbid tears. The state of life and death were all born for the heart, in general, there is no difference between life and death in this world. Your behavior, or only depends on the momentary impulse, or the natural consciousness formed for a long time, in any case, it should be admitted that things will never advance steadily in one direction, there are many variables here, and the environment and state of mind are the most influential parts in self-opinion. Six days, snow, slight snow, no chill. There was a layer of gauze covering the dry heat. The thin snowflakes melted immediately when hitting the body, and the Palm was Qin. Three, It’s a little abrupt to open an ending again. However, this story was staged after all, so we have to continue. Two years ago, I took another road. There were many roads in this world. Some were connections, some were partitions, some were memories, and some were forgetting. The dark night escaped from the mixed streamer in the distance. It was a difficult problem where to go and where to go. Has everything been set since the birth of the universe? What about my behavior? I am a little upset. The original one is unchanged or becomes pale in front of time and space. Is that right? Should it be like this, I knew that this meager floating night would not give me an answer, just like I asked myself countless times, but I could only wander in a strange circle. People’s involuntary consciousness often suddenly makes you realize what has been lost, but it doesn’t give you a way to recover. Maybe this is to let us understand that the past is irreversible, but what we can’t figure out all the time is just a kind hint: not all of you can understand, and trying to change may be a struggle to some extent. Many people are tired of living, perhaps not for some clear meaning but for cowardice regret in the end, finding that they have gone through a road that they cannot understand. The last generation put their hopes on the next generation, which is always like this. Therefore, people become the transitional person of history. People’s hope is not in themselves, but in the future when they entrust what they can’t see, at least, with their meager hope, they still live, which is a very strange curse, everyone is willing to accept it. Is it like this? This is another mockery without an answer. Therefore, I am still willing to walk, forgetting many meaningless noises. Even though they couldn’t escape, they were gradually willing to feel the connection between footsteps and the land, instead of the meaningless sigh. There is the sound of leaves on both sides of the tree, and the empty night is the broadness that can contain all things, joy or sorrow, drunk or awake, dream or truth, which seems to have dissipated the meaning,: there is no reason to be mad, and dreams are outsiders. It may be too far here, not only for space, but also for people. At that time, I wanted to keep walking like this, and then I forgot myself, but this was just an extravagant demand, after all, the body will be tired, and the tie will eventually be trapped. There is no real selflessness, and it is just a way to escape. Year after year, it was finally passed in chaos. The traces left by time were not like scars. We had to recall the past, which was just a kind of feeling that was hard to say when we looked back. Fourth, there is no real story here, and there is no actual meaning of existence. It’s just a very natural feeling, forcing to take. The end of one thing means the beginning of another thing. If you can’t let it go, it is tangled, and even this meaning is lost. You can’t stop torturing yourself. In fact, no one can do anything and no one can escape. God is willing to see people put shackles on himself, and then painfully wants to find a way, a way that he can’t see. One by one, people self-directed and performed their own struggles, lost and died into dust. Sometimes I think that the meaning of what I do is just a reason to comfort myself. There is no eternal truth or eternal truth. I feel that my existence seems to be a reliable thing, coming, leaving, going through, chasing hard, having a bitter smile behind, it seems that the deep and heavy shadow makes me suffocated. I have seen all kinds of people, paranoid, dead, smiling and finally flashing in a hurry. They are just passers-, the impression of life is the constant denial of oneself and the doubt of value. The city built by building blocks cannot cover the real wind and rain, earplugs, and can’t escape the slander of rumors. Live cautiously, confirm that you still exist, and make helpless bitter, taste the bitter gall of your heart. I hope that the people I know can be very good. No matter what I experience, I am also fascinated by the tragedy of literature. I don’t want to perform it in reality. There is no bitter wine in a life without tragedy, wine without bitter taste is terrible, so is life without sorrow. Tiredness, long road, dim lights beside the road, moths flying under the lampshade. Striding and walking quietly, one by one, one by one, the wind flowed beside my ears. There was no coolness. I used to be dirty, and I was not picky about it. After all, I was still alive. From one end, I may not be wrong for that end, but I just don’t know where I should be. Suddenly there was an illusion that there was nothing left in a daze when a worm chirped in the grass. I felt that the long distance of that sound seemed to be the existence of forgetting. The lonely singing of the whole night is dedicated to the quiet night, with the lights resting and the boring rest. Looking back again and again, I can’t recall a complete image. More than two months ago, when Garcia Marquez passed away, the young impetuous heart would only set off the trend again. What kind of person was that, without the smell of human body, the bell of Notre Dame de Paris rang, and the bell of worship rang, the mask of hypocrisy was rigidly put on the hateful face. His ugly appearance was hidden in the darkness, and the life of his soul turned into a bell, echoing and lost. The old man said that it seemed to be true when he was old. He accepted that life and death were the last door calmly. He would recall, forget, let go and complain. This was a real person, obstacles are inevitable, and mistakes cannot be forced. Wisdom lies in that you should not take yourself too seriously or take yourself too lightly. You can go down to the dust, but who can see it then, but why do we want someone to see it? Are we wrong, losing our position, but who do you think you should be? Or just another dream. It’s just that I’m still awake. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring

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