snails

Should not put down the heavy shell, to find out where there is a blue sky.

One•<倔强>

I always love the fruity green summer that is long and exposed to the sun. Mayday, bright and warm, just like this band. They are like the sun in May, igniting the deep madness in my body. Salted fish also have a dream, no longer young and stubborn. Listening to their songs, it seems as if I feel the absoluteness of a life, colliding with the soul of my security, and scratching my hypocritical heart, such as moist moss, on my entire atrium, but unexpectedly. The summer time floods from the branches, such as the screaming of floating time. The real sea water is cold again, and even if it is disappointing, it cannot be desperate.

If the world is different from me, let it be different. The repressed snail climbed up the shell step by step and learned to be stubborn.

Two•<Strong>

The gray-blue sky hangs silently over the top of the head, full of weird blues, like being poured into a large bucket of green glaze, as well as white clouds and birds that are split by wires. I feel that my life should be full of all the strange things in the world. I should travel with my dreams, but the reality is like a swamp filled with mud. You stand on the side and lift a big rock and smash it in. It won't be a bit embarrassing. This kind of life stems from the fact that I am a girl from a high school science class. It’s more mad to go to college than to go crazy. If you reach the realm where everyone is crazy, you can go to repeat. I can't choose, so I have no hesitation, I am also a wind and a sorrow. Then I gradually understood that it is most important to do it right now. If it is not strong now, then who will be weak when it is time.

Believe with a bloody and determined heart, go alone, go to love, hate to waste, go to sleep and regret it. The weak snail crawls up the shell step by step, learn to be strong.

Three•<mature>

Stretching out a hand and rubbing the hair that was blown by the fine wind, I suddenly remembered the turtle that had been raised by Darwin. It was called Harriet and died in the zoo in 2006. Darwin died more than 100 years ago. But the turtle has to live. When Harriet died, would she remember that she once had a master named Darwin? Perhaps this kind of emotion that is regarded as sad or a little sad in the eyes of ordinary people is considered to be happy in her heart, because she always has the hope of love and life, which is a kind of maturity. We can't blame the world, but we must look at the world. This may not make the world a better place, but it may make you better after seeing the world. It is the most kind of maturity that is profound and sophisticated.

Finding achievements, but tormenting; wanting to be persistent, but swearing; keeping silent, but surging. The childish snail climbs up the shell step by step and learns to mature.

I am a small snail. With the gentle wind blowing, the wounds do not feel pain. I have to climb step by step. There are big dreams in a small day. There are tears and sweats flowing in a small day. One day I have my own day.

Anything that the wind blows through the tears and sweat, one day I have my own day.

--snails.