Meet yourself

In the bustling area, choose a quiet space to enjoy the warmth of the afternoon sun. Like taking off your coat, take off your inner anxiety and uneasiness; in this way, you can say goodbye to those who are unhappy in the past, and then quietly go to cultivate a field in your heart. People who can miss all miss it all the time; convenient dialing the phone, try to dial it again, say something, talk about it, talk about it now, and talk about it, catch some fresh.

Through the words of a friend, pick up the self that is gradually drifting away from the years. Once again, the beauty of the snow fluttering is revealed. Suddenly realized that life turned out to be very simple: some numbers, some cities, some people, some stories, some circles, some names. Through the hands of time, intertwined, intertwined with each other, weaving into an intriguing, or vulgar poem. Vigorous or ruthless, plain or faint, but no match for the ruthless passage of time, face gradually getting older, get the same cold commentary of time: but so.

At the crossroads, the traffic lights are changing frequently, like people who stopped after a long run, leaning down and panting. The messy footprint is filled with land. On the face of the hurry, I can't find the subject of the article, and life is so sloppy, with some patchwork imprints, it has to go through and continue. No one has deliberately twisted, and some just let go of their natural right and wrong. Then he lowered his head, bent over, and snorted. In the state of hibernation, he walked through the spring, took out the summer, sent away the autumn, and ushered in the winter. Years old and old flowers are similar, and old people are like this.

Behind the bustling, I’m looking at a barren hill. The river of life flows to the end, and a sword is sealed in the cognac. The cold moonlight sent the crows for food. Keep the shallow bones and listen to the night wind. The yellow sand wandered and covered the grave of Liyaozhai in life. What can people do, can not decay in time and space? After the fall, the aromatic residue on the dead branches reminds people to grab the sleeves of time and make a difference. Don't add wounds on the fragile body.

I always feel that I am in a hurry and I am in a hurry. Some young, like their own past; some old, probably the future. Time passed, this second was replaced by the next second, and I was constantly replaced. Fortunately, there is a constant mourning, propping up a piece of heaven and earth in the heart, allowing the floating soul to live in a pragmatic way. No matter how the wind and rain on the outside invades, the hope of the candle in the depths of the heart can not be dissipated, but it can not dissipate the power of persistence.

Be a happy man from tomorrow on

Feed the horse, chop the firewood, travel around the world

From tomorrow, care about food and vegetables

I have a house facing the sea and blossoming in spring.

This is the poem of Haizi. I have been thinking about why he is not a happy person from today. Xu is too pessimistic, and eventually he is dead. People always have to be optimistic, maybe the next second, in the corner of the street, will meet the future success of themselves; perhaps in casual chat with friends and relatives, they suddenly meet with the past, found a strong and bold, fighting high spirits Yourself. Believe that time will make everyone, in the morning of the rising sun, or in the afternoon of sunshine, meet poetry with the most perfect one.