in the clothing Pianfei season, in the sad music, in behavior look, the sentimental poem, how much the past feelings have been walking in the passage of time, how much time of pattern are falling in the dust, youth is like the fireworks bloom, was performed with magnificent; ornate; fascinating. The voice of flowers all like a dream, the water lily in a thin piece of grass, fleeting language color perception.
night, gradually shorter, surrounded by the soft moonlight sky, it seems even breathing also falls silent dream. Staring at the hazy shallow a touch of sadness of the sky, the wind mixed with dream fragments wantonly blowing hair, into clothes, cold every inch of the skin, the heart a soft string, that kind of feeling like a boat, and maintain your that thin line, just plug at the other end time. Fingertip remained the last tender, quietly listening to the sound of butterfly wings. The growth rings of
in the merciless years silently over, the passage of time, those timberland b2 blog pv10 people, those things, those feelings in the past, the same as duckweed time tide with the bright blue beat in the youth side, leaving only the shallow light beautiful, fragile like a breeze can take it wind, let all traces have become slim. So every night to lie down, close your eyes the moment, tell yourself to remember everyone appeared in my life, because I don't want to miss, even if I can only be vaguely.
Xi Murong said: "life is a flowing river, we are the people across the river", on the left bank of river of in the life is to forget, right bank is the mind. So I always think about intentions in mind of each person, life in hand, trying to catch the lost beauty; wake up, only to find there the fragments of memory, do not know, at a loss...... Then, turn off last night, fireworks, portrays the world is blurred in Peking, into the hearts of the lawsuit not over wisps of sorrow.
only a short while ago, we in the campus of timberland b2 blog pv47 the parasol tree repeatedly singing "childhood";
only a short while ago, we count the stars;
only a short while ago, we shed timberland b2 blog pv4 their sweat and struggle in a tense exam;
then we, eager to grow up, have their own youth, have a fairy tale story, in the youth's corner, shallow sing "fairy tale".
wind, blowing off the ways of memory; the rain, penetrated the missing dream; flowers, fell all over the floor, and the night dream...... The passage of time, let the friendship grounded, every time near, is separated from the thick wall, the picture, the records of language, everything can only be fixed in yesterday, that seems close to us, but it cannot replace the moment. So, back behind the clouds and cloud drop, the flowers bloom, a beautiful sadness but not >
My beautiful at impossible angles across my youth, but I might smile to embrace the sun, do a sunflower warm person. -- "