In a trance, I always feel that I can go back to the past, to the young, to the young parents, and sometimes I think: In fact, can't time also go back? As long as you think about the past, the past will return to the present; if you return to the situation you hope for in your dreams, isn't it? Doesn't people's sleep take up 1/3 of our time?

I often look at myself in the mirror, and suddenly I don't seem to know each other, is this me? Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 info also often thinks that we are really ourselves, that we can't get it back if it's really gone, that we can't get it back, that we can't really get it back, that we can't really get it back, and that we can't give ourselves a clear answer.

So for me, writing, writing something, seems to be the only thing I find meaningful. Talk to friends: things that will last forever. He felt that it was a gratifying thing to be able to live for hundreds of years. For me, I don't think it seems to have anything to do with a specific person, and if a person is no longer alive, what does all this mean to him?

He turned out to be an accomplished Chinese medicine practitioner, his wisdom was absolutely rare, his thoughts, his actions, his achievements and his achievements were so significant to the academic community and his patients at that time, and his departure I felt that everything was meaningless to him, only the benefit to others. All his efforts and achievements no longer mean anything to him.

If there really exist different dimensions in the space we live in, can he feel our emotions and thoughts in his dimensional space? It seems that his meaning can be achieved through different communication channels? Although each dream is so real and unusual, I still can't fully trust the ethereal nature of the dream.

But I often have some trance thoughts, sometimes inexplicable language and dialogue will appear in my ears, it seems that two different people are talking to me, sometimes different selves are talking about the same thing in different identities, and sometimes I will recall the scene and conversation just now after suddenly waking up. Sometimes it will be the mother's words lingering in the ears, and sometimes it will be his words repeatedly, which may be what scientists call daydreams, which not only refers to the beautiful dreams when there is a clear consciousness, but also refers to the pan-conscious daydreams when Mimi stares.

I am a very sensitive person by nature, and I have very subtle and accurate judgments on some human hearts and human things, and even sometimes a glance can determine a person's temperament, and sometimes I can catch the traces of some wonderful things, such as if something is wrong in a place, my back will be inexplicably cold, and my heart will beat faster and panic inexplicably. My premonitions and my inexplicable fears would come beforehand, but I couldn't tell the signs of it, so I often wondered if I was nervous. And all of this came out in a state where I was not very conscious.

Maybe most people are living in a muddy life, never asking about their hearts, and I am a person who often looks back on my inner feelings, and I go to my heart in everything, so sometimes I feel tired, but if I don't have my heart, I don't have the feeling of my heart, what's the point of being a human being? So when someone says it's good to have a happy life, and the pleasure of my spirit may be more important. Without the feeling of the soul and the joy of the spirit, is there any difference between us and cats and dogs?

Looking back on the bits and pieces of growth, I realized how many years have passed! It seems that in a blink of an eye, it has become a past that cannot be returned. I have lived from an ignorant teenager to the present without confusion, and I still have gone through such a long time in the past.

On a brilliant afternoon in late autumn, the three little brothers and sisters took the scattered wheat straw that the agricultural society pulled firewood and grass to the ground and carried them home. I sifted the cinders from elementary school with my sister and brought them home.

The summer day of the grassland, the bright sun, the small river water of Qinglingling, and my sister pulled the pigweed, bathing and playing in the water in that fairyland-like place, it was a scene that was so long ago that I couldn't remember it, so I always thought that we really came to the fairyland that time, and I thought that I really didn't find that place again.

The early summer morning on the grassland is refreshing and charming, and outside the campus of Jisheng Taixiang Junior High School, I recited the text in the morning sun against the wind. I also once skipped class and went to catch fish in the creek with a good classmate.

When I was in high school, I took advantage of the fact that people were not paying attention to the wild sand date tree, and put down the image of a lady and climbed up to pick dates. A cup of two cents of sand dates is an occasional tooth sacrifice that can be beaten in high school.

On that snowy winter day, I got up early to go on a date with a male classmate I had liked for a long time, but unfortunately I didn't see him, and I hated him for a long time. Later, I learned that his father had a sudden cerebral hemorrhage at night and was in the hospital for emergency treatment, so he dropped out of school. At that time, it was so immature and simple, just the spurt of youth, and there was never a trace of extraneous consideration.

......

It's been so long that I don't feel anything, it's just a touch of color that exists in the depths of my memory, but it is a string of my life. Most of the memories are some small and trivial things, and these once warm and insignificant pictures in our memories have been recorded. Those seemingly important and unforgettable scenes are often buried or forgotten or selectively amnesia.

People are actually very strange, aren't they? Those things that you should remember for a lifetime, whether they are extremely happy, extremely sad or extremely rare, are often no longer in our hearts, and what often comes to mind is those subtle eyes, smiles, and fluttering words, because these trivial things always bring a vivid picture to take you back to the past, to the past.

Yesterday has become a thing of the past, today is disappearing, this sentence has become history when it is written, and we are slowly walking through the vicissitudes of life in this endless flow of history.

You can not look back on yesterday, but the years will not spare you, she will wantonly carve marks on your smooth forehead, will pull away your vitality like a cocoon, you slowly walk to the future in her unconscious destruction, and what hope does the future have for you?

On the road of reincarnation, there is always hope, isn't it? And isn't every day our day also on the road of reincarnation? Slowly, all our hearts are stripped to the point that there are no miracles, and all hope is slowly gone, and the rest of us can only live in our own trance, dreaming as if we have been dreaming.

And with a person with a self, a heart, and a soul, all hope and destruction will be the support of her history and future.