Liaocheng, Liaocheng.

I've been in this small city for a long time, I'm waiting for someone, I'm waiting for a story.

I don't know if that person will come again, but I'm still waiting. I sat at the door for two days and two nights, watching the sky change, and I realized that I had been here for so long, but I had never seen this sky clearly.

It can be like the scene of early summer, and "Liaocheng" is already hot, and some people are starting to get irritable.

There was a big hole in the window, and outside the big hole was the gray sky, the gray city.

Everything is so comfortable and relaxed. It's my mood that's messing up.

At the back of the inn is a snack street that only appears at night. There are pancakes and fruits from the "Northeast", chaos from "Henan", and haggis soup from "Liaocheng".

Every night, I go for a bowl of haggis soup. Put a lot of spicy seeds, eat a bite, burn from the throat to the stomach, and then to the stomach. The spicy and scorching heat from the inside out made me feel the real existence of my life.

The lights are lit up, the neon lights are shining, and the glittering decorations hide the humble desolation. I can't stop my frenzied thoughts, let it plunder, and at the end, I raise my glass and drink alone, and I will rest when I get drunk.

In the drunkenness, I heard an old singer tell a story: there was a man looking for his girlfriend who was lost many years ago, and those touching words and experiences tugged at my heartstrings, listening to other people's stories, and leaving my own tears.

What is love?

"Remember, boy, you've been here. "The old man in the sheep soup restaurant looked at me fixedly, searching for memories with all his might.

When I heard this, my long-troubled heart was suddenly involved, and then I cried "wow". When love is modified by the cruel reality, I cry like a child in a world alone.

That love was hidden and hidden by me like the New Year's money of my childhood, until finally I could no longer remember where to put it.

Memories are a person's landscape, lonely and aimless walking, looking up, is a lonely posture, not wanting tears to flow. After a long, long time, the distant sky blurred the vision of longing, and it turned out that nostalgia had no direction.

I asked when the sky lost its original color, leaving a blank slate. It never gave me the answer I wanted, and it was silent for a long time before it went dark.

The night breeze struck, and the eyes gradually melted into the coldness and sadness of longing.

I ran as hard as I could, feeling my hair soaked, sweat sticking to my forehead, and endless desolation rushing towards me, some cold, some painful.

Then I couldn't tell which ones were sweat and which ones were tears, and I vaguely remembered vomiting and retching.

Looking at the gray sky, the fog was heavy, and my heart was also raining.

When I came to this familiar and unfamiliar water town again, I stared out the car window, the houses were as numerous as trees, the colors like glass ran over my melancholy eyes, the flickering lights jumped in my eyes, and I encountered thousands of years of sorrow in silence.

The passing years on Mo, to this day, whose fingertips are falling? The night is as cold as water, and whose tears are blurred?

Uncle Fortune once said: In the legend, there is a kind of bird that has been wandering and flying since it was born, and it does not stop. It never sings, and every corner of the sky leaves its wandering footprints. It is not until it sees the thorns in its heart that it will settle down, insert its chest into the thorns, and sing the most beautiful song of its life until death.

Since that day, every night I will have the same dream, I dreamed that I became a thorn bird, the thorns of the heart into my heart, after singing that poignant elegy, its soul floated for seven days and seven nights, flew over the city of Shanguan, and came to a strange place called "Xiedian Street" in "Liaocheng" thousands of miles away, standing on the eaves shrouded in the night, with two bright red blood overflowing from the corners of his mouth, with a hideous smile, looking at the lights below from a distance......

There, there was a lot of traffic, full of guests and friends, and smiling like flowers.

I tried to have another dream, but I failed. I finally realized that my dreams belonged only to the person who was gone, and I also realized that having dreams turned out to be painful.

There is a kind of loneliness called missing, missing someone, a past, an encounter. In the lonely night, I miss it deeply, so I am deeply lonely!

The next sentence of seeing things and thinking about people is always a matter of things and people. When I was alone, I often teased fate and joked about myself like this. You dug a hole in my heart, and then, in the days without you, I would warm a pot of warm "Dream Wine" for myself, sit quietly on the "Tianya Stone" and sing sad songs, so that the hole in my heart has a temporary sense of fullness.

Then a person quietly looked at the traveler, familiar and unfamiliar, in the "cool city", back and forth, but never greeted, not without politeness, but because I knew that the ashes of love would only be, can only be a person's sadness.

When you laugh, the whole world laughs with you, and when you cry, you cry alone.

A lonely person will always be lonely for a lifetime.

Those scattered pasts are destined to leave a touch of beauty in the palm of your hand.

All the disguise, all the strength, just to wait for that gentle palm.

Like the child who runs around the plum tree, he chases the beautiful hope in his heart, and our coldness, our hands are full of candy, and we still cry......

I hope you understand, but looking back, everyone has their own difficulties, and I don't blame you for not understanding me. Hello, that's it.

You once said that you are my life and will never leave you, but at this time I can no longer find you, I can't find the world that belongs to us. Here I am, struggling pointlessly in a seasonless, expressionless nightmare, and where are you now?

Those who once thought that they would be with you for the rest of their lives, and the things they would remember for the rest of their lives, but at the moment of looking back, they found that the words of those vows and mountains had been scattered all over the world, and those happy faces had peach blossoms.

You are not mine in the end, even if you leave me with unforgettable tooth marks, I will just beat my horse in the hustle and bustle of your war, and finally leave in the dust.

Time has passed, and the face has changed.

We dilute a relationship like this, you choose a new love, I choose time.

The snow outside the window slammed against the lattice, and at the end of the curtain call, I heard the sound of my heart breaking.

Stand in the snow, listen to the sadness of the snow, touch the snowflakes, and soothe the snow's heartbreak.

I'm still me, just throwing myself away, you're still you, just a familiar stranger.

If you can, think more, give you all the love, and keep all the pain to yourself......

Some stories aren't finished yet, so forget it!

In the ruthless years, those moods have become difficult to distinguish between true and false, and we have gone our separate ways......