Whether in school or in society, many people have had the experience of writing essays and are no strangers to essays, are they not? Essays require a well-structured chapter and must be avoided in the case of essays with no conclusion. Still at a loss for an essay? The following is my collection of 10 essays on the topic of thoughts, welcome to learn and reference, I hope it will help you.
Thinking about the topic of essay Part 1I also playfully fiddled with the arms and legs, the mood is like a rising hydrogen balloon as relaxed and cozy. The cigarette sticks are filled with your persistent pursuit of beauty. I can't forget the flavor of thoughts in the wind, I can't forget the appearance of geese returning to the north and fluttering their wings, I can't forget the footsteps of the streams running to the sea, I can't forget the Grandpa's cigarette pole that condenses love, the pole that lets me pursue the beauty of the pole that teaches me to study seriously, the pole that hits me in the back of the head with a raw pain in the pole Grandpa, I am so eager to see you again, and then again, I feel that the pole taps on the head of the numbness of the pain in the pain of the taste. I am so eager to see you again, and feel the numbness and pain of the cigarette stick on my head again.
Time passes without us realizing it ``sitting on our familiar bed `` looking out the window at the strange silver world `` as if the world is so colorful that it makes me frustrated The weather is slowly getting cooler and colder ``
Getting up and going to school ``walking through the sidewalk ``feeling as if I can't feel the warmth of the city `` looking at the pedestrians who are coming and going in a strange way `` Guangdong -----
The city has a lot to offer. The pedestrian ``Guangdong - is how I want to go to the place! But late at night, I hid in the darkness of the night, because of my irrationality, I made Shin completely sad, and I didn't want to break my baby's heart, could my efforts save it, dear Shin, could you still hear me calling out to you? I've really changed, I'll listen to the baby, I love you so much, you always make me feel warm in the dark night, can you still call me, the bird that has lost its wings is struggling helplessly, I don't need to think about it, I don't need to think about it, I don't need to think about whether Shin, who she misses, still misses her, he's wrong, can he come back to him, he'll go slowly, he'll be fine.
Since then, there is no familiar voice ``no heartbeat information `` life can only bud books `` sip pursed slightly pouting mouth `` unconsciously eyes or sneak a peek at the azure sky `` is not the baby is also looking up to see this bright world `` --------- Ran think of you `` dear are you okay?
The sky is finally dark again ``I don't know how to describe today! In reality, I have to study `this is the hope of me and my baby `Ran reviewed the book `Ran will make up for all these days ``but ````` lol ``I really want to have a voice for Ran to listen to ``I really want to ``but I can only talk to myself in photos ``
The world is finally quiet ``there is no sound, no information ``Ran really can be quiet ``What about Shino? ,,,,(～ o ～)~zZZ What about the love I want? ``What about the baby? `````` As if everything has changed, ``I can actually be this quiet and not say a word`` except for the books and the photos that can accompany Ran ``and the music that brings back memories`` quietly`` Dear: Can you still see Ran talking to you? I miss you, you know? I've caught up with my studies. Are I going to lose you? Is that what you want? I don't want to!!!! I want grades and I want you more, okay? I can only turn on my computer and write about my feelings. Can you help me to dial the Shinya of Ran, if you are familiar with it? ```````````````````````````````````````
Thinking about the topic of essay Part 3That year, I missed those memories, looking for my future in a foreign land. Sentimental is not my lonely soul, but my uninterpretable sadness. God's hand often takes away a lot of things, and I was not only afraid, but fearful. I often hide in the corner, quiet meditation, that the death of the look, whether there will be a faint flavor.
Those black on the coffin, I remembered the distant bleakness, deep in the kind of pain, just wondering the ending of the world, whether there is that smiling face. I just want to know if there is a smiling face in the ending world. Occasionally I come to the cemetery quietly, I just want to know if there will be your soul there. I want to kiss your eyes with happiness ...... For a long time, I have not extinguished the thought of you.
In the wilting fall, the leaves in the bamboo forest fluttered all over the place, and my weeping eyes saw your lonely figure from time to time. That cemetery is very bleak, still no one to ask your lonely face. The great hurt masked my difficult to interpret the words, I really do not want your bones there in the bleak silence. Wishing bottle, my wish is actually so simple, I just want to dream, in the look at your kind face. I am very bitter away from my hometown, with a heart full of exhaustion and loneliness in a foreign land. I really want to bring my bird of prey, so that he can tell you the sorrows buried in my heart. When I was young, in that quiet path, your hand was still warm, but I put down my waiting in despair, and faintly left you. I know your illness, at that time has made me fear and worry, I really want to stay with you, and you told me to leave quickly, do not forget the future ........ For a long time, I was silent, standing by your grave.
This year, I went to your grave with a heart full of guilt. I didn't follow your words and did nothing right. Those bamboo leaves are still as simple as floating down, in addition to my eyelids filled with tears, I think you can no longer hear my cries or cry in pain . ..... The cigarettes are still brightly billowing, the candles are still as bright as ever. Your grave is full of all kinds of yellow grass, so decayed, so pale. I squatted by the grave and was slow to leave. I thought you could hear my words and my tears. God may have sent you home to see me, whom you haven't seen for a long time. Did he? I closed my eyes and waited for you, but I found nothing but those noisy firecrackers. Was it God's cruelty, or was it your rejection. I really want to know the answer, because grandchildren really miss you. Who shelves fear at death, I hate those myths that death weaves. It's been a long time since I pried open those black faces and fled quietly. I hide in silent villages and lose myself, I really don't want the meaning of those deaths or the feeling of the depths. There is no reason for me to give up the pursuit of my ideals, even if you quietly took my closest grandpa. I have no right to pronounce judgment on you with those stubborn horns of yours. I am just very silent, that kind of unknowingly shameful trick. Hatred faded like that for a long time, without a single word. All I found were those broken shadows and that unbridled thought of being consumed by power. I didn't know that the beauty was really fading, or that the ugliness was slowly coming. I'm just saddened by what that deprivation of life without reason really means. I think, I can not read the touch of death, perhaps that is and the devil the same road look, cruel, bloody, fear ......
Life lost his should have a beautiful ending, at least should not be so monotonous, or simple. Not a kind of gorgeous tone, I think there is no that great beginning. A kind of powerful fight, I think there is no price of death, it is not called the magic of despair. Fancy those beautiful fireworks that shatter into your loving face. But no, the moment of shattered air, I realized, that is the destruction ......... For a long time, I have been wandering in my dreams, I think you will come to my dreams, to tell what it means to be real. I really wanted to hear your story, even if it was pouring rain from the sky. I seem to have forgotten, quite simply, that freedom of separation. I don't think you've left, or at least are still alive in my consciousness .....
Desperate bird, perhaps chose to die. He no longer went to fly over, those buried their group of land, even if the top has long been full of beautiful glass. In the look of the glass, the birth of a kind of bland mold, the kind of emptiness that exists in your eyes. Whether it is wisdom or reason, I think that you should know best. Because in your kind face, there is never that abominable dark cloud. I haven't been to the river for a long time, I haven't been to smell the sound of its gurgling water for a long time, I'm not just afraid or fear, just that bland choice not to disturb that natural purity. Childish thoughts never have that complex wisdom. I really want to know the weight of that grain of sediment. I can not go to understand a kind of light gray melancholy, and that kind of fear can not be given in the loneliness. That little river, perhaps, explains what it means to live ......... empty not of the wandering clown in your dead nerves, but of your delusions, or terrible desires, with no giant net to carry you away, with a desperate relief that carries you peacefully away. I think there never is, unless your souls die one after the other. My weeping still rests in the depths of that bamboo forest, where I cried out, where my figure ...... those memories I miss have tortured me hard, with a bizarre tool, cutting off my sad head. I think I understood sadness, I understood loneliness. Do not leave, at that time my cry to God, I am not afraid of his authority, possession of my absolute territory, I am just very worried about your eyes, will shed miserable tears. Forgive me for leaving quietly, I think your smile has long understood .......
I returned to my track, with the fragrance to pave my way forward, I think the silence of waiting has been a failure, I should choose to give up your bleak language to seek the true belonging. It's been a long time. Night came quietly and kissed your grave. I smiled and stood there quietly, watching the most beautiful one falling star ....... Raindrops with the swing of the wind knocked on the window pane, snapping. I pushed open the window fresh earthy flavor came, I breathed the rain was cleaned after the fresh air. Let this lonely heart to get a moment of relief, really, even I can not say why this rainy night love, the heart of the thousands of strands of thoughts always stop thinking about your footsteps. I think you have become a habit of mine.
In such a rainy night, the long loneliness, or with a lonely heart to accompany me. I still can not sleep all night. I stood alone in front of the window, looking away from the distant dotted mottled dim street lamps, in the refraction of the raindrops exudes a more charming color. In such a lonely rainy night, I once again welled up endless thoughts of you. How many of these lonely nights, sadness and loneliness always filled every inch of my space. Looking far away . You, gloomy tears weeping! How many times I resolved not to think about you, but strands of thoughts always occupy my fragile mind.
I looked up at the night sky after the rain, to find that full of blessings belonging to my star, but in this rainy night, the stars are shy drops hidden behind the clouds. I did not find you, I still have a little bit of sadness; a little bit of sadness; a little bit of less than ideal; listening to the eaves of the drip drip drip of the rain, I seem to hear in this rainy night of their own heartbreaking voice.
I went back to the computer, to the screen on the keyboard ten fingers like flying crackling struck the words miss you. I can only use words to record the thoughts of you, with words to express their own sadness and loneliness, with words to record my mood at this moment.
Every time I think of you I write you in my journal. The first thing I'd like to say is that I don't know what to do with you, but I'd like to know what you're doing. For you even though you look through the autumn water do not want to return; for you even though the tears blinded not regret; for you even though you can not be linked together, the smoke and rain, the other side of the flowers, your smile has long warmed my slightly cool heart!
I and you are walking in this network, this end is me, that end is you watch each other. I am grateful for this edge in this vast network so that I know you. At this moment, it is the charm of summer rendered my romance; or your tenderness entangled me in this life's attachment; thinking of your footsteps always can not stop, thoughts once again fell into the memories of the slow river.
Whenever I think of you I will write you into the text, it is you, cut a ray of the moon's light, to the heart of a piece of bright; it is you, picking a trace of the wind's drift, to the thoughts of a spiritual; in this rainy night, I will be thinking of the frame in each log, you can see the words left in my log, but can not see the corner of the eyes of the tears that flowed down my eyes. The night is already very deep, why is your appearance still floating in my mind. The heart's grief and despair always makes the thoughts flooded with layers of waves.
Dear, do you ever know, in this rainy night, how much I want to have you with me, even if nothing to do, just look at it quietly; even if nothing to say, just sit silently; even if nothing to want, just gently embracing each other; even if nothing to ask, just so y attached;
The words and the feelings are linked to each other, and the feelings are linked to the text. The sad words crossed the heart, thought once and the past has long been forgotten, but the result is in the heart of the sea deep hidden. The soft rain, pattering and dripping in front of my window, dripping in my heart. The night under the curtain of rain is more enchanting.
Looking away from the city of love, in this rainy night, only sentimental music; sad mood; poignant words to accompany me, thoughts of a wave, layer by layer, a pulse, a wave of romance over my heart, filled with my heart, turned into wisps of smoke lingering in the other side of the time.
The night is already very deep, but I do not have a trace of sleep, quietly support in front of the table, hands resting on the cheeks, so looking at the front of the screen, you said when I look at the screen, you also look at me in front of the screen. I can't see you, you don't want me to see you, or my tears are blurring my eyes. I hate myself why I used my heart to you, moved to love, in the end the heartache is their own, sadness is their own, my log is filled with thoughts of you, sadness and mixed with tears of words.
I would like to accompany you to sit at the table with breakfast, turn in the kitchen to do dinner together; I would like to accompany you in this rainy night *** hold a flower umbrella; I would like to accompany you to chat with you when you are sad, in your lonely time I come to accompany each other, snuggle up to each other in the long red dust; this night let me so in indulgence to think of you once, use up all of my unwillingness to part with and fondness for you, to have your direction gently Say: I really miss you ......
You are my eternal angel
Pretty girls can make people jealous, Xiaowei is such a jealous girl, not only is she pretty and charming, but she is also the representative of the music department, and she stands out from the crowd wherever she goes, while Lantian is an equally attractive and handsome man, and no one would suspect that Lantian and Xiaowei are the same. No one would doubt that Blue Sky and Xiaowei were a golden couple that was a match made in heaven. However, there is a prerequisite, that is, if not Xiaowei never accept any boy's confession.
But Lan Tian has never been a person who gives up easily. He is good at studies, good at sports, and good at people, and from the moment he sees Xiaowei, he decides that Xiaowei is his angel, the one who deserves to be guarded by him for the rest of his life. Even when he was rejected by Xiaowei in public, he was not discouraged at all.
Blue Sky still sends flowers to Xiaowei, still hands Xiaowei a glass of water when she is practicing, and still goes to every performance of Xiaowei's. ...... Every time Xiaowei sings, he sees a sweaty and handsome boy in the audience who cheers for Xiaowei regardless of his image, and that's Blue Sky.
However, an accident occurred ...... One day, a boy appeared beside Xiaowei, who was also tall and handsome ......
Blue Sky's world collapsed ... ... no longer gave Xiaowei flowers, no longer gave Xiaowei water, Xiaowei's singing audience is also missing the sweaty boy who cheered for Xiaowei regardless of his image. There is no spirit, no handsome appearance, empty eyes, such as the walking dead general life ......
When the blue sky suddenly heard that Xiaowei abroad to study, he really feel that life does not have any meaning, no longer study, no longer excellent, every day to drink, drunkenly lying in the dormitory ......
Until one day a boy appeared in front of Blue Sky, the one beside Xiaowei. At that time, the blue sky is still muddled lying in the dormitory, the boys sat on the side of the wood and talked ......
I am Xiaowei's brother, Xiaowei did not go to study abroad, Xiaowei is love you, Xiaowei has a congenital heart disease, the doctor said that she could not live more than two laps, so she has never accepted the pursuit of any boy, she loved you, so she She loves you, so she can't accept your pursuit even more. She was afraid that she couldn't help accepting you, so she let me come to her side. Your decadence was unexpected by her, right? Maybe she was too beautiful, and the heavens were jealous and took her away too soon. I shouldn't have said this, but, I don't want her to see you like this in heaven, then, she will be very disappointed ......
Blue Sky sat in the audience, Xiaowei used to sing right here on this very stage, and he walked up to the stage, opened his arms, and closed his eyes, and Xiaowei sang right next to him... ...
Xiaowei, my eternal angel, I love you, I won't let you down ......
Tonight, thoughts in the moonlight
Tonight, the moonlight is like water falling down, sprinkling the world with stars.
The moonlight falls in the water tonight, sprinkling the world with stars, a night with the moon, accompanied by soft thoughts, the mood is extraordinarily beautiful, the moon in the sky seems to be sending a kind of blessing, thousands of miles of thoughts, a place of silence, a kind of spirit in the air overflowing, through the tenderness of the mood, popping out of the point of the thoughts, inexplicably, a kind of taste flashes, wandering for a long time, drifting away.
The moonlight is gradually falling, seemingly hidden, eyes seem to have a wave of light points, gently blinking, a drop of tears flow to the cheeks, thoughts, melting in tears inside, lingering far away, seems to have been a long time ago, but also feel close to home, some people, some things, never go out of a kind of bondage, the past is like smoke drifting through the eyes, leaving behind just a little bit of blandness.
The thoughts sent to the distant clouds, cold tears slipped silently, I can control myself, but can not restrain their own heart, the night, a beautiful dream, silent, warmly bloomed in my eyes, in the night, I can drink to my heart's content, indulge in ecstasy, do not have to cover up their own reserved state of mind; in the night, I cried, crying can purify the soul, can heal the wounds of the heart, can make the pain subside, and the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, and the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart, the pain of the heart. Weeping can make the pain subside and make the thoughts calm.
So, I also slowly collected my emotions, repressed their sadness during the day, and the night, and was unreservedly released, I gradually began to like to cry in the night, thinking that the darkness of the night can hide my tears, will not let people find their own crying, the darkness of the night fragile me, like glass, so easy to break, but only at this point in time I am the real me.
The night ah, my favorite, how I hope you can always stay with me, I can choose you? Can I really choose to keep you? Even if it's for that one moment.
Do you still remember, when you were a child, you made me fragrant dumplings with love.
Do you still remember that you gave me joy every day?
Do you remember the time when you gave me your love?
Unfortunately, you have now left us; mom cried and told me that you, asleep ......
I really hope you can wake up, so I look forward to every day, look forward to ......
Perhaps, you will not even Wake up, but I still firmly believe: you will wake up one day ......
I slowly director, I also finally know that you will not wake up at all, perhaps say, you will no longer come to life
I walked to your grave alone, remembering your love for me, can not help but tears used to come out ......
Ah, Grandma, I y, y miss you ah!
Thinking about the topic of essay Part 6
The dusk after the fall, there is still a remnant of the freshness of the afternoon, walking alone along the riverbank, looking at the moon in the water, vaguely.
A cold wind, the heart also fluttered, floating, as if the wind will be taken away if you are not careful. The night of the silence is reflected in the eyes, into the ears. Time, as if in this season on this frozen, snuggled in this moment, tightly dare not let go. The forest path is covered with fallen leaves, stepping on it, emitting a fine sound, seems to be the sound of the heart being cracked by the ice. The bright moonlight illuminated the earth, those beautiful memories accompanied by parting tears scattered on the road, reminding me of a poem: love on the left, love on the right, all the way to sprinkle the sunshine, all the way to find the spring, just as we focus on moving forward, always forgetting that happiness is around. In this season of falling leaves, how many leaves remain on the tree, waiting for spring?
What is left behind is regret, what is taken away is tears, and what is abandoned is feelings!
But I believe that the sun will still shine tomorrow.
Thoughts are the flowing notes on the six-stringed zither, striking the heart of the departed; thoughts are the dandelions in the deepest part of the heart, dancing in the sky of the departed; thoughts are the long Shu water sleeve of the Chang'e in the moon, dancing not full of the deep loneliness of the ground.
Early in the morning, do not wake up the thoughts, the morning light will sting a little heartbreak; dusk, do not wake up the thoughts, light wind will blow inexplicable worries; night, do not wake up the thoughts, cold moonlight will be pouring out nowhere to hide the sadness.
What is it about thoughts? How can it be as swift as lightning, ignoring the time and space, illuminating your face. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do that. How can you grow like a young tree, landing roots, branches and leaves for many years! How can thoughts be like a torrent, boundless, endless; how can thoughts be like the theater of the heart, sadness and joy, ups and downs!
I don't know, thoughts are not the charcoal fire in the winter, whenever thoughts, I feel a touch of warmth rising; I don't know, thoughts are not the turbulence in the foot of the stone, whenever thoughts, I feel a piece of peace; I don't know, thoughts are not the fog in the sea of beacon lights, whenever thoughts, I have the direction of the way; I don't know, thoughts are not the desert of a clear spring, whenever thoughts, I have a direction of travel; I don't know, thoughts are the desert of a clear spring, whenever thoughts, I have a direction of the direction of travel. I don't know if thoughts are a clear spring in the desert, whenever I think of it, I taste the incomparable sweetness! Thoughts, where do you come from and where are you going? For whom are you lonely? For whom are you lost? Are you the cloud in the sky or the plum in the snow? Are you the light in the Milky Way, or the colorful bridge? If not, when thoughts come, how can there be sadness like clouds floating by and joy like red plums blooming? If not, when thoughts come, how can there be old shadows with lamps, and loneliness on the bridge?
Thoughts are the bright lonely moon wheel in the air, night and day for you to reduce the clear light; thoughts are the yellow flowers that bloomed in the cold fall in the autumn, thin loss for you to wear the belt gradually widen the end of the unrepentant; thoughts are the moon alone under the curtain of the dream, haggardly look at each other without words tears thousands of rows, thoughts are the dust of the zither, sighing: the lesser of the soulmates, the string breaks, who listen to it?
Thoughts, such as a trickle of water, long, never stop; thoughts, such as fluorescent night candles, twice the torment, the heart gray tears; thoughts, such as clumps of weeds, fluffy, wantonly spread. Thoughts, is a gently caress the soul of the text message, is a cool day to add clothing instructions; thoughts, is the mid-autumn moon gaze, is the old yellow old photo; thoughts, is a piece of space in the words, is the screen in front of the deep feelings of the wordless watch; thoughts, is the falling flowers of the people independent of the sadness, is the cold plum is not yet flowers inquired about; thoughts, is a thousand miles of blessings *** Canyuan, is a vow **** whiteheads. The idea is a kind of imprint, often tumbling in the heart, tumbling is the love is the intention. The thoughts are woven into the silk, and the silk is the silk of love.
Bear the separation, you have to learn to bear the thoughts, the thoughts are in the thoughts of swinging tour. I'm not sure if you've ever seen a pair of warm hands holding your heart, that's what you used to have, and now you have the luxury of thinking about it. Thoughts of a smiling face gentle with your heart, once beautiful eyes hooked your soul, and now still in the flavor of that taste. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a pair of shoes or boots that you can't get out of the way.
Thoughts are a gust of wind blowing chaos in your mind, let thoughts sneeze, thoughts inadvertently cold, cold thoughts will only deepen future thoughts. Thoughts are a gust of wind, scraping the spring breeze of your youth, willow thousands of branches swaying green, fragrant peach blossom intoxicating; flurries of dusk, thoughts of the two lovers, facing the west building according to the trees, the gentle wind pushed the light clouds, the shade of the trees more hazy. The wind has wrinkled the thoughts in the depths of your memory, before the flowers and the moon in the west building by the tree. The blue tree remnants of the cuckoo cries not yet rested, birds also have feelings, not to mention people, in the late night thoughts, there is a lonely paroxysm of pain, pain has no way to stop the pain; there is the wind churning the snow cold, like in the wind churning the snow of the weather far trekking hiking trekking.
Late at night once the thoughts tore open the thoughts of the sheet, hot summer let you cold, is the thoughts of the cold wind, to freeze your thoughts; winter makes you fever, is the thoughts of you set up a stove, to your thoughts are dry, and then with a light wind to dry the thoughts gently away. Autumn wind blowing over, caused by the parting thoughts, in the melancholy must have a faint sadness, no parting which has a faint sadness. When the moon garden, more miss home, the breeze gently rolled up all kinds of helplessness, please the moon to bring back the heart.
Bending down and picking up a leaf withered leaves, the lines on the withered leaves are still so obvious, that line is the life line of the leaf. There is no late fall, no autumn wind, the withered leaves that come to miss. Tree branches are not also attached to the falling leaves, falling leaves, the branches are no longer the old style, dry branches look so depressed and helpless. Leaves return to their roots is a kind of magical phenomenon, that can be explained as the attachment of the leaves to the roots and miss, there is no soul of the leaves are also so sentimental. People's thoughts are more spiritual thoughts, willing to turn thoughts into a breeze, to warm the people who are missed.
I really miss home
When I was a child, I loathed the way you looked -
The bare hillocks, the barren pastures, the barren land, and the crumbling hamlet.
Early in the morning, the crowing of the rooster woke up the sleeping me, carrying a hoe and pickaxe to reclaim the land, and carrying a basket to beat the hog grass. It was nearly mid-day before I was able to pick up my school bag and run into the schoolhouse - the four dilapidated straw rooms. Crowded with a few others on the long wooden benches, I listened to the teacher tell the story of the little hero Yulai and hummed and sang "I Love Beijing Anmen". In drawing class, I picked up a pencil to trace the dream in my heart.
Looking out the classroom window at the round of fiery red Tai? I swear - one day, I must leave this place that makes me disgusted, to find the paradise that belongs to my dream.
Growing up -
I traveled through the streets of the city -
Flat roads, wide squares, tall buildings, and the sound of books on that campus.
The alarm clock ticked and the siren gradually sounded, shattering the rewarding dreams and breaking the tranquility of the morning. I hurriedly walked on the way to work, forgetting to fill the stomach and stomach, but still to consult the feelings fly.
Looking out the window that hot too? But I think of my hometown that red sorghum boiled vegetables porridge, and that cornmeal buns made of potstickers ......
This day, I often Prime pen in hand, with the heart to recall the appearance of my hometown, I expect my hometown rooster is still singing, I expect my hometown as yesterday's pallor, I expect my hometown not to change the appearance of my heart! ......
I am eager to go to my hometown for a long time, and walk the mountain paths that used to accompany my growth; I am eager to go to my hometown for a long time, and look at the small villages that have long been gone; I am eager to go to my hometown for a long time, and to talk with my hometown fathers and mothers.
I think, one day in the future, I have to go back to my hometown - that piece of sacred land, to realize the heart of the most innocent dream.
The land of our hometown has nurtured us -
The gurgling water gives us delicious fish, rolling green hills show the beautiful scenery of the four seasons, and colorful flowers smile to meet the chopping of the new Chao?
Nowadays, a lot of perfect memories no longer exist, only the hometown is still in my heart.
I - really homesick!
It's true that there is no such thing as an unfinished banquet. Every day there are different people who part for different reasons, and are sad, sad, sad. Is this an emotional statement? I can't explain it, but I'm convinced that the anticipation of parting is a necessary precondition for the joy of the next goodbye.
Parting is a painful wound, a sad tear, a struggling heart. When you make up your mind not to reminisce again, the memory is breaking free from the locks of a scene in your mind. There are joy, there are sadness, there are happy laughter, there are angry and annoyed ...... and friends between the happy past, as if it happened yesterday, the intention is not yet finished, vivid in the memory. The corners of your mouth can't help but rise upwards, so happy. But God always want you the happiest time, to your heart y stabbed a knife, bitter, sad, like about to leave the water of the fish general disappointment, helpless. What is there to say when you are about to leave? What can be done? The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do it.
Not everyone can leave with a smile on their face, can't they? But they may wish each other in the nicest way to live a happy, joyful life in the future. Can it really be so? Can we really see each other again after saying goodbye? Thoughts abound. Looking at each other for a long time, the eyes revealed reluctance to part with each other, emitting a ghostly aroma, intoxicating. This is as if only the other side can understand the emotion, how can others understand it?
Strong emotions flow on the face, is difficult to erase the trace, is not washed off the dirt, is not washed down the mountain, so people can not forget. Because deep down, you have long been these firmly in mind, forget also can not forget.
Make it difficult to part with really can't wash away the feelings? Or is it just a way for you to miss? The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do it.
Separation often makes people produce a kind of inexplicable loss, perhaps because you have long been the previous things as a habit to deal with it, suddenly you leave it, feel uncomfortable it! In fact, really nothing, really does not matter. Maybe this is the only way to comfort yourself is the best way, really need to be so in order to forget? Oh, I'm not sure.
The pain is just their own mind in the strange just, perhaps to know how to let go, to know how to forget, this is really to do it?!
About to embark on a new journey alone, life has a new station, let me stop and think carefully, slowly experience.
Maybe this is called life ......
The dream is their own thoughts, the road is their own choice, the night more a shining star, illuminating the heart of the helpless, let her go to the fine understanding, comprehension ......