Only know, meet a favorite text, as met a right person, instantly into the heart into the soul, willing to rely on your shoulders, drunk in the words between the lines.
If you can, this life is willing to practice in the text, do not write sad, do not write the parting, only write the bridge, only write you and I meet the beautiful, only write the prosperity, do not write the water rush, only write the deep love, love.
In fact, sometimes do not say sad, do not write the parting, does not mean that the days are really living in the wind and light. The red dust Road mouth in fact, who's life is all the way to insist, all the way trekking.
We are all time travelers, destiny of the sky no one can dominate, and no one can stay for who, like this seemingly ordinary days, no one walks the wind and clouds smooth sailing, those years of long-distance trekking, the heart of those tired wounds is never able to tell others about the pain.
Perhaps walking in the red dust, everyone's heart has others can not touch the wound, only in the dead of night will be hidden pain.
Look at the years of strangers on the wind and smoke flow, geese and geese, how many years of frost to be time to smooth out the vicissitudes of the years, the heart has long been as a pool of calm water, no longer easy to have the ups and downs of the ripples.
How many times I looked up at the direction of your city, perhaps in a previous life I have had eye contact with you, or perhaps we just had a moment's stay in each other's hearts. The first time I saw the movie, I was so happy to see you, and I'm so happy to see you.
In this life, we meet again, just in the dusk of the setting sun, leaving each other with a faintly elongated by the light of day back. I can't help but remember that in my dreams, I often say to you, "I want you".
If, in your heart, there happen to be me, please do not say it easily, let the thoughts hibernate in each other's chest, so that this unforgettable soul of dark incense drunk in your eyes, drunk in the depths of my heart.
The red dust station, full of the vicissitudes of life of the heart through a course and a course, passed a stop and a stop, how much I want to let the eyes no longer flow, how much I want to have a party of the soul's return. But there is always too much of the world should not, too much of the inevitable, such as the fall of this fall, but even if there are more than willing, unwilling to give up, and ultimately had to listen to the call of the season.
The world of prosperity, the floating thing is disturbed, a person has to experience how many emotional ups and downs, in order to "love" the word light, a heart to experience how many waves to no longer have a hold on the red dust?
I have a Zen heart in the text of the practice, but I do not know how long has been stained with the red dust fireworks, stained with love and hate.
If there is a future life, I would like to become a grass, a flower, a tree, only bloom belonging to their own fragrance, do not dye the heavy fireworks on earth, only wish to open in the roadside, to be you pass by when scattered strands of fascinating fragrance, drunk in your heart ......
If there is a future life, I would like to bring the love of the past life of the present life, I would like to wait for you to pass through the road, and then I would like to see you in the future.