Let me have a curtain of ink, draw a happiness in your heart.

If the time is on the left and you are on the right, can you ask for time, let me paint a brush, and draw happiness in your heart. The drunken Acacia dreams are far-reaching, and the autumn waters are full of tears. Who knows the hollow bleak, a trace of sorrow and sorrow. Drunk Xixiang, relying on the column, Yunmeng Tianya explores the shadows; listen to the smoke and rain, dark flow injury, the night sky and the moon and the moon next to the side; thin pen, sprinkle incense, painting Zhu Yan no regrets.

In May, with the spring breeze, stepping on the spring rain, quietly reached the end of the season. In June, with the hope of summer, facing the lotus of Mochi, standing on the shoulders of the dawn, will be scattered in every corner of the world with the first sunshine of the morning sun. In June, this is a cloudy day, and people have to stop and go around. And June, for me, it was a month that moved me. Because June has hidden a beautiful first sight, because too many stories began in June, and because too much memory has dried up in June.

The quiet flow of time, the story goes away silently, but the thoughts are along the vines of memory, engraved in the city of the soul. On the last night of May, I stood on the top of the building and looked at the vast starry sky. I wanted to find a star like you from the millions of stars. It is a pity that the end of the night sky is broken, but you can't find your figure.

Close your eyes, feel the wind quietly, gently stroke my hair and kiss my cheek. Quiet, calm down, let go of your thoughts, and spread those deep feelings in the darkness of the ink. Like the wind, gently blowing, like a cloud, slowly floating, like water, quietly flowing. Remember? We have been through the spring, summer, autumn and winter, we have tasted the ups and downs. You know, those who have your time... I am the happiest.

Nowadays, you and me are separated from each other. In the hooligans of the years, we are drifting away. It is impossible to see you again. So only, with some of the days that touched me, I wrote down the pages of the most gentle words, carrying the next drop of tears.

Now, I am no longer thinking of your night crying as I was at the beginning; now, I am no longer drinking as much as I was in my time. Now, it’s not that I don’t miss you anymore, nor is it that I don’t care about you anymore. I just learned to use words to put your feelings on you and use blessings to express your thoughts on you. I just became different from the past. I learned to grow, grow for you, and grow for myself.

Now, I want to be like a tree, standing for you forever, and burying the wind and rain. Today, I want to be like a star, hanging the night sky for you, emitting a warm starlight... I want to love you with your time, I want to deepen your thoughts. Maybe, one day, there will be such a person, accompanying me to a new time and becoming my new thought. However, I will always remember that in the young and frivolous years, there is such a person, deeply engraved on my youthful paper.

If the time is on the left and you are on the right, I will ask for time, and let me know how to look at the autumn water. In memory, you have a pair of bright and clear eyes, occasionally staring at the sky, occasionally looking at the grass and pity, occasionally looking at me laughing, occasionally watching me cry... In my heart, your eyes reveal the most beautiful true . In memory, you have a quiet face, sometimes smiles at me, and sometimes looks at me... In my heart, your face is filled with the most true kindness. You in memory, there is a sentimental heart, you will become flustered because of my indifference, you will not insist on your decision because of one of my tears, you will be because of my slamming Go, but gradually cold, cold feelings... In my heart, your heart is the most kind beauty.

Red dust is on the air, you know, your appearance is the outline of my heart, and it is the ink that I read: half-lived autumn water, tears, and pen-and-ink, thick and dark, with the darkness of the moon, the moon, the jun, the flower ,red. If the time is on the left and you are on the right, I ask for time, and let me write a curtain of ink and ink, and write about my three passions. You in memory are the ones that make me most obsessed. I still remember that when you danced lightly, I stopped and performed the first review of the city. I still remember that at that time, I whispered softly, and you made a glimpse of the happiness of the first love. I still remember that at that time, you and I were holding the river and the mountains, and I looked at the lotus pond for ten miles and planted flowers and trees. Remember, when you walk out of my sight, the pictures that are kept together, the scenes appear in my mind, the endless vows, the endless love, but after all, you can't stay, you are far away.

Youth proverbs, you know, the deep feelings of the heart, is the memory that I buried in the bottom of time: a word and a covenant, never give up in life. A porridge, a meal, a gentle, single-minded love. If the time is on the left and you are on the right, I will ask for time, and let me paint a picture of happiness in your heart. When you appear in my world, you turn into a pen, a pen that writes love, a pen that writes happiness, a pen that writes away from you, but finally it is like a pen that writes friendship. Because of you, with the first stroke, I was drunk with my heart, and then you, with the last stroke, woke up my heart. It seems that it is just a simple drunk, but for me, it has hidden too much sadness and helplessness. From encountering each other, from loving to being apart, there has been the most true happiness, leaving the most real pain.

If the flowers are beautiful, it seems like a year of water, and finally it is the first sight. After so long, the story you gave, has become more and more distant under the sorrow of time, but those who have your time still make me feel cherished. If I can, I am willing to turn it into a pen, not to write any stories for you, just to draw a happiness in your heart.

In fact, sometimes, I really can't figure out why a painful love will lose the tears across the century. But later, my friends advised me more, leaning on the world of words for a long time, I gradually understood: all missed, in fact, just for a right encounter. Although you have appeared in my world and made me crazy and loved, I think that in the coming year, I will love a woman like this. At that time, maybe you will become, I will not open it anymore. A page of red dust.

"The front edge is not full, why gather this life" Maybe you and I will meet each other in this life, just to cultivate the same boat for the next life. After breaking up, many friends said that I was stupid, always thinking of you, and many friends said that I am crazy, I am in the past. But in my heart, I don't think so. Only you know what I think, knowing that our separated trust is still so valuable, like a confidant in the mountains.

In the red dust, some people, at first glance, can always trust, because the heart is printed. Some people, together for many years, can't trust because they lose heart. It’s not easy to meet someone you can trust. It’s not easy to meet someone who trusts you. Although we have been hurt and shed tears, we all communicate with each other with heart and use friendship to get along with each other. Never crossed the border, but also have a clear conscience.

Since you have someone who loves you deeply, since you are just a passing passenger, then I am only on the other side of the distance, watching you quietly, towards the end of happiness. However, in my spare time, I will still remember that there was such a girl. In order to get close to her, I alienated the whole world.

Xiahe ten miles, Jun is no longer there. Lotus heart is bitter, I take care of it. A glimpse of the past, the spectrum of a scorpio, dried up in time, brewing into the mark of youth. Then, quietly interpreting this life like a play, a smile and a tear, are the red dust that I cherish; quiet walking this picturesque landscape, one flower and one grass, are my obsessed lover; quiet face to this dream The flow of the year, one true and one false, are the stars I watch.

This summer, a snow flakes in the sky, I have not had time to see its appearance, it has melted in the depths of my heart. None of us knows how time will continue to write stories, how will fate be arranged, and I only look for the stars that belong to me in the night sky of my heart... happy heart, three red beans, I hope you I, no one is responsible for this glory.

A little red makeup, ink time, red dust and more injuries. The wind and the moon are soft and intestines, dreaming of the wilderness, waking up, the fireworks have become a chapter. If the time is on the left and you are on the right, can you ask for time, let me paint a brush, and draw happiness in your heart.