In the vast world, life is a series of strange footprints, from birth to death, drifting away.

After thousands of years, maybe a white cloud will remember you, a paragraph will record you, a person will remember you, and a landscape will collect you. But what about yourself? It has been annihilated, because you have long been lost in the long road of years.

Maybe you don't know the meaning of life at the moment, because you are alive, don't know how to cherish it, and feel that it is still a long time, and everything has not yet begun, and everything is in time.

Indeed, too many ordinary days are dull and tasteless, always expecting that life can create surprising plots, and you just walk through them.

So you wander on the beach day and night, helplessly scattering lines of lonely poems into the drunken wind. You need a bosom friend-he knows you, from heart to lung, from head to toe, from past to future, from spring to autumn, from small to large ... You are just trying, like a bird unwilling to take off, looking down at the other side and eager to see.

In fact, you should learn to give up and fly alone, not overnight, one branch and one leaf. (article reading network: www.sanwen.net)

This colorful and peaceful world is sometimes bigger than you think, and sometimes narrower than you think, depending on your mind, vision and feelings.

Life is not a ripple of fragments, nor is it a momentary misunderstanding.

When life is dragged into the swamp of speculation by hard times, you should learn to wait for the dawn, the sunshine and the quiet drying after the storm.

After the tide recedes, don't hesitate, give yourself courage and run up your life until you fly high.

The annual rings are never flat, but spiral upwards.

The quality of life lies in whether life has reached a certain width and height. Over the years, you have surpassed yourself.