Looking up at the fireworks, I was stung in the eyes by the sudden light that had been sleeping for many days, stubbornly and stubbornly refused to lower my head, and let the smoke blur my eyes...

A few fireworks roared up like the night sky, and the graceful arc bloomed in the dark night sky, like a blooming flower, however, all the beauty fell madly in an instant. It has always been believed that fireworks are dazzling and sad, and it desperately gives all its beauty to the night sky and pushes itself to destruction. In the end, it was nothing more than his own wishful thinking. Perhaps, good things are short-lived, just like love, when the sweetness at the beginning is gone, what will be left except pain? Perhaps, that kind of relationship has never been sweet.

Walking in the middle of the crowd, I began to stubbornly forget everything. In the distance, the people watching the fire from the other side began to cheer, and the end of the story was no longer the prince and Cinderella.

Recently, I've been crying all the time, and I've become more and more vulnerable. It's not for someone, it's not for something, it's just that time has destroyed the purest dream in my heart. There was an atmosphere of sadness throughout the Spring Festival, and I was almost unable to breathe. In the deepest part of my soul, it was as if a devil lived in it, roaring and struggling in my body, pushing me to the precipice of no return. I'm just a child, a child who doesn't even dare to cry simply, and I'm afraid that others will say I'm not strong. So, I'm redeeming myself!

Quietly, listen to the sound of the flowers blooming.

In fact, why do I need so many reasons in life, what I understand is like knowing myself, and what hurts me is like the kind of unexpectedness that I hurt myself.

Those years that have passed have turned into fine sand falling slowly in the hourglass. Time is like the sand in the hourglass. A day passed, the hourglass doubled, and the weak future continued. A year has passed, and the hourglass continues its monotonous work. The difference is that those people, some are growing up, some are aging, and the changes that those years have engraved on their faces and bodies are joyful or sad? I want to ask myself, how far is the happiness I want? I was told that there was no answer.

The biggest difference between dreams and reality is the distance between life and death, between heaven and hell, between warmth and cold, between laughter and crying. These distances slowly suffocate time.

I remember that those people I liked, those songs, and those articles, thought that those would not change forever, but they were getting farther and farther away. I want to catch it, but I can't catch the time, but I can't help it, don't pass by in the river of tears.

In a trance, I understand that no matter how great or small a person is, time gives the same amount, whether you are as light as a feather or as heavy as a rock, in the end you can't escape the vicissitudes of life, and will eventually be buried, like an hourglass, like a wheel, over and over again, round and round, always over and over again, it seems to be always a new beginning, but I accidentally found that everything has never changed, still continue this yesterday, but it seems to have changed again, which has changed, but I don't know, leaving behind the boundless reverie. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, there seems to be a new change every day, only to find that today is just a continuation of yesterday, and tomorrow will be a continuation of today, day after day, year after year, and there will never be an end.

I like to fantasize about my own world, in order to escape from reality.

The rings of the years are drawn in the heart of the tree, and the tree understands.

The growth of the limbs is manifested in the body of the animal, and the animal understands.

The vicissitudes of time were carved on my face, I touched, I felt, and I understood. Suddenly I feel that when I get something, I am also losing something that is missable, which is also a matter of course, there will be gains and losses, although I don't want to, but I can't face it, I can't face the reality, I chose to escape, I keep running forward, tired, looking back, losing more, and reality is still chasing behind me, I understand, how to escape, or surrounded by reality. After all, time still passed on his face day by day, and finally understood that the years had passed and turned into the vicissitudes of life.

A lifetime is like a dream of Nanke.

Take a walk back to Nai Ho Bridge and drink a bowl of Meng Po soup.

A thousand years later, we are still grieving.

Once upon a time, I was always looking up at the sky and looking into the distance. It was naïve to think that something called happiness would last forever. Always refuses to forget his fate, carrying the scars of death and constantly searching for the sky. Yes, is there a vacant seat in everyone's heart, but I don't know who it is left to.

Zeng smiled infatually, "Try to see the remnants of spring flowers gradually falling, which is when the red face dies of old age." Once the spring is full of red and old, the flowers fall and people die without knowing "A drop of rain, like tears, falls on the cheeks without any flaws. It's as if the hot liquid has torn the face.

I tried to hide those wounds, to make people feel that the past was unbearable, but that's it. It's like a fleeting beauty.

Longing, pursuing, but ultimately turning a blind eye.

Sing a single love song and laugh about the so-called love.

Looking at the black night, there was a faint smell of tobacco on my fingertips. Looking into the distance, just to prove that you miss someone. However, the air is empty, but it overflows with deeper feelings. A memory, not frequent reminiscence. Maybe over time, it became a dream.

Looking back on the parting since ancient times, why bother to bury the flower man with tears.

It's just that, with the precipitation of time, the wound does not heal, but becomes more painful.

That late summer, that autumn and winter, echoed for a long time. Who broke a temporary oath, and who tore up a memory.

But when will the mistakes made by time end?

Laugh once the red dust flowers bloom, and the red dust flowers fall in the first life.

We are all passers-by in the prosperous world, there is no singing, there is no sound of horses' hooves. What is erased is only the innocence and naivety of the heart, but what is left is a disguised shell. Everyone longs for a fairytale life, but they don't know that it is poisonous, and they bury their own grave. On this so-called road, we are always getting on and off the bus, but there is no end in the end; Wandering without purpose. It's like two parallel straight lines that never intersect.

A story will always be lonely. However, the story will eventually have an ending, and that always makes people feel a little sad.

In a scene, there will always be sadness staged. But this drama is about to fall its curtain eventually. Whether it is a smile or a sad face on stage, after the curtain ends, the burned soul must always be covered with a mask.

When you are alone, you look back on the past alone

When you are alone, you listen to the song and grieve alone

When you are alone, look up at the sky, listen to the melody, and wait for dusk

When you are alone, you live in music, amplify your voice, and be alone. Carnival.

When you're alone, let go of all the cover-up and be yourself

When you are alone, it can be so cold!

When you are alone, enjoy. The taste of loneliness...

When you are alone, you are sad. Always around me...

When I am alone, I feel so tired even when I speak.

When you are alone, everything is silent. Relate..

When I'm alone, I realize that I really want to cry...

When you are alone, no matter how bitter you are, you will laugh

When I am alone, who will I become, and who will become me...

I don't know when it started, all the things around me that used to feel good and worth remembering have changed, it's not that I can't face it, but I feel that those people and things have really changed, and that feeling makes people dare not touch it.

In a city that is not unfamiliar but I can't get to know me, I became insensitive.

Some voices have been hovering in my ears, while others have long since ceased to sound.

I stood at the window and noticed that the lights of the city were really beautiful, but they could not illuminate the already dark memories in my heart.

Some broken memories, should I learn to let those faint pains flow quietly in my heart?

I'm sorting out some messy thoughts by myself, just like my left atrium and right wall. Yes, nothing happened. I'm still me, a child who is always simple and happy.

How do I forget that I have lost my happiness? How can I pay tribute to the loneliness of death? Perhaps, one person is the best answer! I declare myself happy alone! Bury the loneliness of being alone!

It's just that I sang that song in the middle of the night: I have too many dreams, and I am destined to be sad....

It's just that my heart is very sad, and my tears are sad!