"Tears, finally pouring into the sea!" 》

Maybe there is still a request, but I have forgotten how to have happiness. The woman who sheds tears in the wind, how tired and nowhere to snuggle, between the ebb and flow, the tears are already in the cup! Imprisoned in the cold city, the border becomes an ancient statue. After a hangover, it is the wind, and it does not count! It's just that the pain is very clear, retreat, retreat! Silence becomes a chrysalis, not for transformation, only willing to isolate the rest of his life. The coldness in the moonlight, the stupidity of smiling and obsessive, the sleepless night, the thoughts rolling. What is forever, is slipping off the fingertips! Tears, pouring into the sea.

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The road can only move forward, if you make yourself distressed, you have to stay away, except for your life, there is nothing for yourself. On days when there is no wind, there is no rain. When no one is around, stand as a tree. Life is a river, years are a song, time steals promises, who has made mistakes? The veins have been removed, and the bones remain. The last tear, and then forgot、I once loved deeply。

If you can be light, you are standing in front of me, and I will still treat it with a normal heart. Forgetting is remembering that there will be no emotional fluctuations, just like flipping through the title page of a book.

It takes a lot of effort to do anything, and I either don't do it or do it well, and I never think about giving up. As long as you work hard and don't have skills that you can't learn, you will start slowly, and once you master it, it's nothing. All you have experienced is the scenery, don't miss the mood of seeing the scenery. Ups and downs are life, and a flat river is not the journey I choose. The dust will settle, and it will be the return journey after having seen and seeing the end of a thousand sails.

In July in the north, it was still cold in the morning and evening, and I was still covered with a quilt. I just went shopping, and the girl at the supermarket asked me what I was buying, and suddenly I forgot about it. Maybe I've been working hard lately, and my memory is getting worse and worse. When I limped along, I wondered if I wouldn't be able to walk normally in the future! Hehe, I'm just like a child, always having weird ideas. I don't like to be too serious.,I'm a naughty trickster at heart.,Will make bad tricks.,And quiet like a painting.。 If I hurt myself, I will become cold, there is no temperature, and those who are good to me are silently remembered in my heart, just waiting for an opportunity to do the greatest giving. I never thought about what I possessed, what I accepted was what I could give.

Accustomed to loneliness, the night, but also because of the busyness does not seem so cold and long, the day before yesterday to wash the pillowcase, a bow of the head so sad, a lot of tears on it, the pain of forbearance in the dark erupted, but did not notice. Walking step by step, there has never been support, that is, the heart is trembling, but also a person carrying, released with words, I will not talk to anyone, someone asks, it is just three words: I am fine! In the quiet morning, there is not a trace of wind, and the clouds hide the morning sun in their arms, perhaps it is its warmth, I am like a grass in the corner, not flowering, not longing for anything. The sparse shadow fence falls, and the wind is unbearable. The red dust is empty and the city is locked, and the ink has been born.

A man's love is urgent and hot. A woman's love goes slowly and constantly. Some people say: The impulse of a man to pursue a woman is half a month to thirty days, and if there is no response, he will retreat coldly. And if a woman forgets that it takes three months or half a year to forget a relationship, it is unforgettable. I don't know if the speculation of this time is right or wrong, but I really let go of the heat in my heart and spent a year. When you think about it, it hurts so much that you can't sleep, and you cry when you think about it. Not a casual and emotional woman, the cold mask suppresses the deepest loneliness of the soul. The days flowed like water, and they passed unstoppably. Those who were waiting were gone, and those who said they would "forever" were all happier than anyone else. There are only three or two people, all the time, who I call buddies and brothers, and stay by my side in a special capacity. Because I'm afraid of losing, I don't have an affair with love words.

I don't like the so-called "red face, blue face", and "girlfriend" and other titles, I think the closest ones, I call them family. "Family" is synonymous with companionship and warmth. It is also an existence that will not be separated and cared for for half a lifetime. Life can't be free, and you can't decide if it's near or far. You will never leave, and I will never give up. Love is that you chose me. What about me? It's always the same, not angry, silently accepting, not evading, and not responding too much. Perhaps this is torture for those who love me, because everyone longs for a flame. But no one understands me, but I like a person very much, and I can't say that word. It's too heavy, I'm afraid that as soon as I open my mouth, fate will be light, and it will come to an end. After a while, everything was lost, and the cardamom at the fingertips could not bloom the delicate love flowers. I've never changed, the distance is all up to you. Maybe my love doesn't eat the fireworks of the world, just like the shadow in the green gauze tent, it can be broken by blowing, and it can't be touched! But life is so real, and I have to hold something in my hands...

The love words dance into a flocculent, and the flying eyes are blurred. How many old times, the wanderer's soul is gone. If you come back, what is the night! What do you want in life? I hope to cherish each other. If the text is dewed in the wind, who will remember the residual fragrance? Love falls into the red dust and bitterness, and dreams are cold and tears are thousands. How many things are wasted, looking up to the sky and sighing. The mountains and rivers are warm at sunset, and the dreams are gathered by the water. When the two looked at each other, the parting wind gradually rose. A trace of azure, a few old smoke and rain. The water twists the incense into the bones, and the word seals the spirit rhino.

"Give Yourself Something to Lean On"

Thousands of years of vicissitudes, a hundred years of dawn, the sword points to the sunset, the fading red everywhere is amazed, the torrent of history has washed over one name after another, with the sight of relying on the sun, moon, mountains and rivers, leaving for yourself those who are worthy of relying on the crazy beauty!

In the vast bleak night, Jiang Li was eclipsed, Anzhi withered, Tinglan retreated, on the bank of the Boluo River, Qu Zi was thrown out of the highest peak of the Li family, you looked up to the sky and laughed, the thick ink of the pen could not save the ruined dynasty, so use the broken body to make a stroke on the shore for history, your clothes swayed with the wind, and the arc stabbed in my heart. Relying on you, I have learned to identify, and I have learned the persistence of "the road is long, and I will go up and down and seek"!

The clouds are light and the wind is light, the swallows are dancing and the warblers are dancing, the bamboo stream is tinkling and the spring is tinkling, the warmth is like the melting blood flowing through the wound of winter, the wind blows the bamboo leaves all over the ground, falling on your shoulders like a green butterfly, the corners of your lips are slightly upturned, and the fingers play the piano sound, Guangling is scattered, heh! Ji Kang, are you a human or an immortal, why is your face full of leisurely and heart-warming personal life? You don't say anything, the sound of the piano is accompanied by the sound of the stream, soaring into the sky like a phoenix. Relying on you, I have learned to be indifferent to the world, and I have learned the tenacity of "refining people and iron"!

The ink leaves the fingertips, the palm of the year, and it is the most difficult to leave the dawn and waning moon of Bai Yiqing on the bank of the willows. You sing coldly about the stars in the sky is clear or extinguished, you praise the good times and good days, you depict the prosperous world in the depths of your eyes, the sky floats through the snowflakes, blends into your ink, no longer snow-white, a stack of your pen tips, is three autumn oranges, ten miles of lotus, two or three smoke trees and a bright moon. The night rain is shaking, ticking and ticking, is the silver bell under the eaves crying for you again, three changes? No one snubbed the Qingqiu Festival of Yulin Bell, but the long streets, alleys, and the singing has suddenly stopped. Relying on you, I have learned to be thin, to leave a clean body in vain, to rely on you, to rely on your poetry!

Lao Tzu quietly disappeared into the world after leaving the "Tao Te Ching", the wind passed, the smoke curled, and he continued to comprehend life in the green bamboo and green di, relying on your independence from the world; The Qinglian monks who looked up to the sky and laughed and went out were not afraid of the powerful, raised wine and invited the moon to wake up the world alone, relying on your uninhibited and unconventional; The young and brave Luo Shixin, commanding the field, "a shot of blood is precious, and sprinkling it can still turn Bitao," relying on your humility and arrogance, even in the face of beheading, he is not afraid......

The mountain stands proudly for eternity; The water is flowing endlessly, in order to be disillusioned, a water agitation solidifies the height of history, gives yourself some people to rely on, and allows yourself to grow; Give yourself some people to rely on and motivate yourself; Give yourself some people to rely on, extend your height, a single knife without edges, the river is resting, winter thunder showers and summer rain and snow, when the heaven and earth are combined, use the height you rely on to support the whole world!

"The Abode of the Heart"

When the time of youth is getting farther away, responsibilities and pressures fill our lives more, we become busy and indifferent in the bustling crowd, walking in the noisy world, we can't find ourselves, seeing ourselves is like seeing the back of some dreams, such times, there are many ways to quiet our hearts.

We can look out of the window, see the sky in the distance, see the fields that are gradually disappearing, see the mountains retreat behind the tall buildings day by day, hold a cup of tea, listen to a piece of music, in the slow music and the light smoke, as if we have seen through the distance and the future, and see the cycle of life and sadness.

We can also spend a quiet time on a certain day with a book. It doesn't have to be a famous book, as long as there is a paragraph of text, let our hearts be a little moved, a little happy or sentimental, just like traveling through time and space, different life processes silently communicate in the depths of the soul. For example, reading "Song of Long Hatred", such as reading "One Hundred Years of Solitude", in the long red dust, this wisp of scholarly fragrance can refuse the hustle and bustle, accompany a kind of journey in the world, and look down on the ups and downs of life, joys and sorrows.

However, in Zhaotong, we can also go to a coffee shop to spend a happy and leisurely time. In an inconspicuous alley on Aimin Road, there is a coffee shop called Yunjia, which is the first professional coffee shop in Zhaotong.

Walking into the coffee shop, an exotic atmosphere comes to you: the quaint wooden tables and chairs, the antique rattan chairs like dreamlike embroidered light yarn, the chic and elegant chandeliers, the bouquets and magazines scattered in the corners at random, people can't help but sit down and quietly savor this quiet and energetic atmosphere. Order a cappuccino, or Italian espresso, choose a seat near the window, gently stir the coffee, take a small sip, and feel the coffee slowly glide on the tip of your tongue, with a hint of bitterness, and then turn into an endless aftertaste. Just like this, I saw the faint sunlight outside the window, and I saw people I knew or didn't know walking from this end of the alley to that end, from that end to this end, hurried or slow, time was frozen and still, only a faint sunshine, a faint sadness.

Several times I went to the coffee shop with my friends, I was asked for a cappuccino, because my friend told me that cappuccino is often associated with love, but he prefers the sweetness and tenderness of hazelnuts, caramel, Irish cheese, and French vanilla in coffee. Yes, if there is no rain or hardship, I would also love to see the soft cheese floating on the hazel coffee in a delicate cup, like a wonderful love in a fairy tale. However, I prefer to be alone, sitting at the bar and watching the barman slowly brew a cup of Italian espresso with a siphon pot. Watching the shiny coffee beans turn into fine coffee powder, watching the dusty coffee powder slowly dissolve in the water and turn into a cup of fragrant coffee, my heart will be softened because of this. I would imagine myself making a hot cup of coffee for my lover and loved ones with loving tenderness in the soft light.

Thick and bitter, Italian espresso is often used as a symbol of male strength and determination, but the process of making it is full of romance and tenderness. I like to take the Italian espresso from the bar hand, taste its rich and bitter taste one by one, drink it to a certain time, add a little milk, see the black brown coffee is dyed by the white milk little by little, the color becomes very soft, drink in the mouth, a lingering fragrance instantly fills the whole body and mind, there is a joy and happiness out of the sea of bitterness to the other side. If I am willing to think of life as more beautiful, I will add a little sugar at the end of the coffee when there is not much left, drink it all, and then see the remaining coffee stains on the edge of the cup, silently drying in the afternoon sun, like a past time, inadvertently becoming a memory.

In Yunjia Coffee Shop, a cup of coffee can kill time is so beautiful, you can have some romantic fantasies, you don't want to be hurt or hurt in the course of life, a kind of beauty and coffee are slowly tasted by us, and there will always be such a scenery in memory: a sunny afternoon, through an alley on Aimin Road, in a place called Yunjia, our hearts are quiet and sad......

"A Hundred Years of Cultivation, Fate"

I went to Xiamen on the National Day, and Fujian people believe in Buddhism, so there are more temples there. There is Nanputuo Temple next to Xiamen University, and there are many people who go to incense every day! I don't believe in Buddhism, so I didn't go in to visit, and besides, there was a lot of people, and I didn't have the interest to go in. But the next day, when I went to Tong'an District to visit relatives I hadn't seen for more than ten years, my cousin took me to the Brahma Monastery over there.

The Daxiong Treasure Hall of Brahma Temple is being renovated, so there are not many people who go to incense, and there are a few scattered people. The temple is still magnificent, built by the mountain, the Daxiong Treasure Hall is in the middle, and there are all kinds of halls around it, as I have seen, there are Jigong Palace, Guanyin Palace, Luohan Hall and so on. Although I don't believe in Buddhism, it makes sense to take a look at what the Buddhist scriptures say, and it's all about life philosophy.

What impressed me was the statement about fate and love displayed in the window next to the Kannon Hall. The Buddhist scriptures say that fate is a story, and the story goes like this: Once upon a time, a scholar and his fiancée agreed to get married on a certain day, but on that day, the fiancée married another man, and the scholar was so sad that he couldn't afford to get sick. One day, Sheng looked in a mirror, and a picture appeared in the mirror, which was on the vast seaside, and there was a naked female corpse lying on the seaside. After a while, a man passed by, looked at it, shook his head, and turned to leave; Then the second man passed by, took off his clothes, covered the body, and went away; When the third man passed by, he looked very pitiful and buried the body. The monk said, in fact, you are the second person, your fiancée is the female corpse, she fell in love with you in order to repay the kindness, and her current husband is the one who buried the corpse. The scholar suddenly realized that his illness was cured.

I've read this story several times, but I don't understand it, is fate to rely on my own cultivation? When it comes to fate, everyone will be emotionally moved and feel a little miraculous, you can not believe in Buddhism, but you have to believe in fate, because everyone is closely related to fate. I think fate is indeed cultivated by oneself and accumulated by one's own good thoughts.

I remembered this story again last night, and I remembered the word fate, it's really hard to figure out, where is fate? If the eminent monk said it, who is my "buried corpse"? Actually, I think that burying a corpse is just an act of kindness, not necessarily only burying a corpse can get fate, as long as you are sincerely good to someone you are tempted by, fate will naturally come.