Talk and laugh at your fingertips.
The red dust is lonely, and in a blink of an eye, autumn is already twilight. Time just disappeared from my eyes so inadvertently, as if it had passed me quietly for many years. Guarding the frosty and dewy autumn day, standing alone in front of the window where the chrysanthemums are in full bloom, looking up, looking at the geese array, the white clouds are long; Low eyebrows, smell the fragrance of chrysanthemum, people are as light as chrysanthemums; Sympathetic, you can vaguely hear the sound of flowers blooming in the long wind. The red dust is noisy, and the dust has not yet settled, but the bright time has turned around gorgeously.
The calendar was torn off page by page, the green years have long gone, the years are far-fetched too much helplessness, day after day, the heart is gradually approaching old age, yesterday's warmth is still thinking of beauty, but today has faded that persistence. Is it because you have sunk too deep? Or are you tired of the annoying red dust? Lock your heart tightly, try to escape everything around you, stop asking about the world, forget what you have, what you have lost, and all the sorrow that remains in your heart. I just want to follow the warm autumn sun, face the time, turn a page of Song Ci, read silently, think carefully, concentrate, sway my thoughts in the dream of falling leaves, sing lightly with the wind, and get drunk in the season of red dust and clouds.
Walking in the complicated world, standing in the complicated world, there are always too many disturbances, detained in the depths of memory. How many dreams come back, I still see my face as before, the innocence and carefree of my childhood; Singing about wine with friends, swaying pen and ink; There are also familiar and unfamiliar faces, which often float in front of you, some things forget how the story began, boos pass by, and they are stumbling and sorrowful; Some people, though they have drifted away; Some thoughts are still engraved in my heart. The ferry of time, the oath left behind is too light, but the thoughts are too heavy, the dissipated Yunsheng years, the long dreams that can't be poured out, but unfortunately, some dreams can't be crossed after all.
In the back of time, the years are so ruthlessly deprived of all that has been in life, if life can come back, time can stay, I don't want to leave any regrets, if so, I want to open every flower in the world, let them meet with fate, from now on there will be no sadness in the world, there will be no more parting in life, may all the encounters in the world become a reunion after a long absence. Let the joy of life continue to spread in the cycle of the seasons, and let every thought in life be touched in time.
The past that is difficult to go back, immersed in the long river of years, the graceful thoughts are flooded with light microwaves, and the old times that cannot be dragged back can not be restored, and the once shameful girl's heart can not be recovered, and the former young man can not be recovered. I asked lightly about time, why are there joys and sorrows, why are there joys and sorrows? The world has never changed since Tang Feng and Song Yu all the way, leaving only infinite sadness and sorrow in the present and the past.
Now that I have fallen from the Buddha to the world, I have read through all these mundane stories. In the courtyard of late autumn, pick up the autumn leaves of the courtyard, quietly appreciate the chrysanthemums of the east fence, boil a pot of autumn coolness, book a paper of clear joy, keep the heart at ease, look for beauty, in the silhouette of time, Ying Ying smiles, collect every fragrance of the precipitation of the years, and harvest the touching given in the passing years.