Selected Works of Love and Sorrow Part I: Love for people, Qiu Si is broken.
I have always believed that this journey with you is an indelible course of happiness and pain in my life. Although there is nothing earth-shattering, not even such a beautiful pledge of eternal love, is it sometimes more memorable?
I remember you once said: I just want to find someone to talk about a love that won't break up, so go on!
Actually, why does love need so many reasons? I know you as well as I know myself. You hurt me as if I had accidentally hurt myself.
At the moment you turned to leave, I didn't know you really wanted to leave. I just think the gray sky and the cold air in autumn make you a little uncomfortable. Now I often think that if I hadn't let you turn away that day, maybe I would always have your warmth in my hands this autumn, and I wouldn't be so cold.
After burning for a summer and a half, I began to face this deserted world alone. I wonder if the mobile phone is broken. There is no information sound that has been ringing before, I can't hear your deep voice, and I can't see your familiar shadow illuminating my dim eyes under the street lamp. I thought I was dreaming. Yesterday, you smiled and asked me to hold hands. There is still your breath around my body, and there are friends around me who know you and me. How could you?
That summer, you wrote my name and your name on the beach alone, watching the waves engulf us in its arms. You told me that you wanted to lock me and your name on that concentric lock, but because you didn't get my permission, my name was left there alone. If our names were locked together, would you still be with me today?
You said you ran away because you didn't want to hurt me anymore, but you forgot that you pulled me to your side when I ran away. I don't blame you for choosing someone else to leave me, but I do blame you for telling me without starting. You can't give me the only love.
Did we have a secret crush for too long before, and then we lost our minds as soon as we met, just like children, saying things that we were afraid to say for years at such a close distance, forgetting that there were still people around us who wanted to make you feel bad?
In winter, I miss walking hand in hand with you in the morning, shivering by the familiar lotus pond, imagining the beautiful lotus flowers blooming in the snowy winter; Every time I turn around at home, I want to wave goodbye to you, but I can't see the fireworks in your hand in the dark night.
I kept the food you bought me and laughed at myself for waiting for them to expire, just as if I had been forgotten by you. I comfort myself with your drinking cup. It's just an ordinary cup. Even if I get smashed one day, I won't be sad. I spent this dark winter in such nostalgia and self-deception.
When I deleted your message bit by bit, but kept this number, I thought, what did you do for me, not for others, just for me? What is the only thing you left me that others don't have?
You said you wanted me to believe that when you were with me, I was everything to you, and I didn't want to be everything to you at this moment, so we should know the inevitability of separation from the beginning! And this old story, why do I often cry at night?
It turned out that a love experience was so trivial that I thought I should forget that exquisite parting song, but it was recalled by memory countless times in a corner familiar with the city. No matter how my heart accepts the fact that you leave day by day, I still remember when you leave: I will definitely come to you again when I have time!
I regard it as a story with no ending. Maybe nothing in the world is endless. The only thing that ends is that people put a full stop to it in their hearts!
Love, Qiu Si is broken. In this autumn festival, I betrayed the years that have been staged. In this same festival in a certain month, I have been looking for your fragrance. Maybe I have gone far at the moment when I passed by! I once really loved, but unfortunately, I can't find any clues anymore. ......
Selected Works of Love and Sorrow Part II: Smile and put red makeup on your heart.
The screen window is cool, the leaves ring, the books flow and the curtains are full of worries. Under the blurred moonlight, the tender feelings of love are revealed, and a few wisps of fragrance fall. In the melodious guzheng filled with eternal ancient customs, there are graceful tips engraved, which will give ear to the prosperity and drunkenness of the night outside Gusu, and will once again open the dust of the years.
Three thousand ancient buddhas with blue lanterns and flowing water. After listening to the morning bell and the evening drum for several nights in Qian Fan, I walked in the world of mortals among the six divisions of the wheel of karma and thought about it. Whispering pious wooden fish knocking at the door, what is there to say? Sighing beauty is easy to adapt, walking in a dusty and bleak body and mind is unbearable, lonely and beautiful. Don't dream of disturbing the quiet, far away in Fanghua, too many tears and worries rush thousands of miles in the long river of years, and I don't know the way home.
The land of Fang Fei, who is drunk, smells fragrant. As everyone knows, in that year's mottled rings, the distance between the ends of the earth was ferrying, paddling slowly in the heart of tears, carrying a nostalgic look back. Who fiddled with the rhyme of the guqin, shocked to play the legend of finding a bosom friend, who broke the willow leaves and stirred the naive heart of parting, who held a thin oil-paper umbrella to see the rain like silk and clouds like brocade in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. With the eternal charm of lotus dream, full of whispers, eyebrows gather in the breeze: the so-called Iraqis are on the water side.
The clothes are fluttering, the courtyard is locked for several nights, the incense is full of sleeves, and the kite fog is 3000. My mind is lonely and speechless. After I am gone, this feeling will be expressed as half-life, and tears will flow thousands of times. I will dream away my life, and my fate will be sighing, waiting for the end, and staying awake for a long time. Who unloaded the sadness in the poetic years, and who danced for sandy's gentleness in the cycle of blooming flowers and falling flowers for a while, an unforgettable love.
Qian Shan always loves, and the songs are full of willows. Cross a bright moon, enter my misty rain poems and paintings, caress a quecuizhu, and shake down the dream. Pick up a clear word and outline the front of Qinhuai rain. I like the moon, poetry, ink, past lives, this life, indifferent and steady, full of ink, endowed with paintings like water. A love that consumes everything, I miss you, half a wolf hair, and I will draw blood for you. Even if the years pass, even if the troubled times are prosperous, I just want to be with you in this life.
Moon eyebrows are like water, and trees are full of smoke. I still remember the first time I met you. You and I held hands and hugged each other tightly. In the winding and lingering thoughts, we are burdened with acacia in the pavilion and colorful drizzle outside the curtain. Sigh lightly, as if yesterday. It turns out that you have never been far away in my heart. As always, leaning against the building and looking at the autumn moon, caressing a song that has never been sung, with vague morphemes, dignified pen and ink, lingering sound, and more and more melancholy and melodious.
If life is like the first time, it turns out that you are just a vulgar past that I can't break in this life, wandering at the breakpoint of time, and I am just an episode in your life. In the interpretation of several spring flowers and autumn moons, there is only a bright fireworks, and there is no loneliness of farewell. A broken miss, wandering in the distance for a long time, smiling in the wind through the night, burying sadness at this moment.
Things are unpredictable, and tomorrow is boundless. Support drunken column, how to throw away troubles, 3 thousand green hairs like waterfalls, the fog of history disappears. I once again write a thin poem for you, and the plain composition only writes a mirror for the world of mortals. At that moment of youth, will you and I still be in the silent turning point of time and space to pay homage to the full moon and flowers, set each other off in a colorful way, gently shake away the fragrance and play the harp together?
That year, the piercing Sanskrit sound was only for you to break the wooden fish. That night, I danced long sleeves alone and danced all the lights for you. That song is a stranger's light song, all for you. The incense table at this moment has been written, and the book is only for you. The west building splashed ink, only to paint bitterness for you. Just because I met you in the world of mortals is my persistent hope to fly under the bodhi tree thousands of years ago. Bodhi asked me. In this season of flowers, I am dressed in white among all sentient beings and meet you again with a smile.
Tea is fragrant, shirts fly, pillows are clear and songs are beautiful, and lotus steps are leisurely. Just like when a dream is busy, I am full of beautiful courtyards, thinking about your vague attachment to horses, expressing two lines of acacia tears in the west wind, expecting flowers to bloom on the other side, indulging in the initial red dust, waiting for you to gently sing your heart sound in your dream; Smiling at each other, I combed my red makeup.
Selected Works of Love and Sadness Part III: Confused Youth
People are like a grotesque little stone. Life is always a little stormy, and occasionally a little lightning. Unconsciously, the protrusions of small stones are getting flatter and smoother. When I was a child, I always said that I wanted to be a scientist like Newton when I grew up, or I wanted to be a celebrity among my friends. At that time, celebrities were not interesting, but every time my mother took me to say hello to my relatives, she praised me for being smart and cute in front of my mother. I can't tell you how proud I am. So, now, someone asks me what I want to be. I shook my head, I don't know. I always want to be a celebrity in others' mouths, and gradually forget what I want to be.
As you get older, you will find that there are fewer things you can change and fewer goals you can achieve. The so-called worldly wisdom can no longer be handled as it was when I was young. Sometimes you learn to smile when you are about to explode, and sometimes you carefully look for a topic in front of unfamiliar friends that won't make them sensitive. One day, you will feel more and more hypocritical and cruel to live in layers of transparent clothes. At night, when I take off all the packages and see myself naked, I sometimes feel sick.
Fortunately, there are always a few real friends in life who never care about each other after quarreling. Even if we don't contact each other often and do our own things, when we meet, we can still drink a steaming cup of soup together like lovers, talk about our grievances and achievements together and give each other the truest care. There is always a moment when they want to hold their best friend close to them or spend all their time with you.
Life is good. What's terrible is living without goals. Nothing can ever affirm the value of a person's existence. Sometimes, passers-by will cast sharp but stinging eyes like us, perhaps saying that at such a good stage of life, they don't do anything meaningful and stay at home all day. It is precisely because at such a beautiful age, someone told me how to spend it, someone told me how to start a business, someone told me how to accumulate more knowledge, and someone told me to become famous as soon as possible (I am afraid there is no interference). Just like the pony in the primary school text, there are too many squirrels and old cows around, facing the river, with fear and confusion, but unlike that pony, it is moving forward with a goal after all. And I, counting the stopwatch, sighed at the end of the day, and my life became shorter again.
Some people say that I am too pessimistic, too negative and too indifferent.
I envy Haruki Murakami's writing style. The hero's life is leisurely and suitable. And my life now is not leisurely, but slow enough to make people feel that there will be a hot wind behind me and it will get cold.
Youth is like this, inevitable confusion, inevitable struggle, and inevitable too many things need us to taste. Life may be unpredictable, and because of this, countless people want to change everything in the past, and countless people will patiently explore the meaning of life, so that there will be reasons for youth struggle.
No matter how long you sink, no matter how long you are depressed, no matter how long you are confused and confused, no matter how long the difficulties last, learn to smile and sing every lyric of life. The words of life are so beautiful that only by singing with emotion can they become immortal works. Love those who love you, accept those who are not good to you, tolerate those who are cruel and indifferent to you, and comfort those who are indifferent to you, because that is another you inside.
Selected Works of Love and Sadness Part IV: Confused Youth
moonlight
Put the gun down. I can't put it down!
The sky is blue.
Different scenery
Say goodbye before you speak.
If you can't stand betrayal, kill it in the cradle as soon as possible.
Life between heaven and earth, suddenly like a passer-by
Missing hurts more than breathing.
Find someone you love and love you.
About your spring.
Don't let the years tire your heart out.
colour
The so-called late night
Very old clouds
As if heartless but affectionate.
Flower umbrella
A person's affair
The story of the past
Flowers bloom on this shore, but there is no one on the other.
In a lifetime dream, find a common friend.
Time flies, another season.
I have planted acacia once or twice in my last life.
I want to be a street sweeper.
mother
Cold dust is like flowers.
Pay tribute to youth
The footsteps of chasing dreams
One hundred kinds of setbacks in the world
Qingming in April
My heart lives for yours.
I feel like a clown.
The river has not swam.
The years are shallow and faint.
Rocking chair under the eaves.
Missed time
I will listen to you.
Night rain sends love.
Hua Lin thanked Chunhong and left in a hurry.
Where does the whispering of flowers stop?
jujube tree
then
passerby
Thoughts on killing wolves in spring
resuscitation
Flowers bloom and fall, and the years flow.
We are used to being single and admiring other people's lives.
Gifu
Writing to you, love is in your fingers.
Used to be a cloud
Passers-by of each other
Selected Works of Love and Sorrow Part V: What can I do? Miss.
Me.
Despise Meng Po.
Didn't swallow that cup of bitter water.
Go around and come to your side
I never mentioned anything to you.
You,
I failed my entrustment.
Did not fulfill the promise of our previous lives.
Turn all vows of eternal love into waste.
But smiled and said to me, forget it, so what?
I
Bear the loss.
Choose silence with eternal hatred
The fire branch line on Naihe Bridge
Love you so much, eat your own food.
you
Continue to be free and easy
Say a thousand goodbye to me.
The lonely shadow under the peach tree feels sorry for itself.
It is the loneliness that you deserve because you are not persistent enough.
I never expected such a result.
I guess
Even if I practice Buddhism
I'm afraid I can't answer the cause and effect.