Memories of the traces of the years
Memories of the traces of the years, each of us should remember the people who have left memories in their own lives, in the traces of the years always those who can not forget the good, whether in the past or the present. Passed away beautiful, remember the present laughter, embrace. Look at the traces of memories
Traces of memories 1The bells of the years, always knocking down many dusty past. The past is like a heavy wave that rushes up to the heart, rather like a "curtain rolled west wind" feeling!
"What year is it now?" The sun still rises from the east, and the night is like a tide occupying every clear sky.
As usual, we will receive a thin postcard, but full of former classmates of a deep love; as usual, it is a sound of the usual can not be more usual greetings, but there is still a chopping love grace reverberation; perhaps also received a glittering invitations ...
At this moment, associating himself alone, it is difficult to avoid a kind of far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, drinking alone in the mountain springs, and then the city, the city, and the world.
A person wandering the world, the wanderer outside, stepping on a piece of the sky was squeezed thin aimlessly plow, many feelings with the smoke ring spit out drifting away!
It's been a long time since I've seen the moon, and last night was no exception. In the vastness of the starry sky, there is no sorrow, nor tears, only a quiet feeling in the diffusion, diffusion ......
"Always fantasize that there is another world at the end of the ocean; always thought that the brave sailor is a real man, ... ..., he said in the storm this pain, what, dry your tears, do not be afraid, at least we still have a dream ...... "How many years have passed, but I can also be clearer like to remember some of its lyrics, I do not know the wrong write it, just know that this song will always be an I just know that this song will always be an inspiring tune. It has always inspired me.
Always prefer to walk alone quietly in the dusk walk, witness the Zhang Ji pen "Maple Bridge Night Mooring" style, witness the sunset gradually surrounded by the night, looking at the far side of the red canopy of the lover's affectionate look back gradually faded into the pale night.
The mountains are still so high, the water is still so green, green straight to the bottom of the heart. So hand-sewn an oversized mailbag, the dusty past sent to each unknown corner, tell distant friends, they are still young, still in the heart of the cast a happy fence, all the suffering are blocked outside the fence ......
The life course, some of the days of the flow away, some of the loss of true love, always as fast as the water. The first thing you need to do is to get a good look at the world's most popular brands. The coast of youth, moored with no regrets years, all the expectations are only for our friendship that is engraved in the bones. Every time you wake up after the flow is the youthful style of prayer, and that icy desire, how can I play the dawn of countless lovesickness?
I will leave my feelings for you to the remnants of summer, because all feelings have to weather the storm. In the country of love and hate, perhaps never be able to distinguish who is right and who is wrong, only in the world of love to perpetuate an unrepentant strong, to find a free existence.
I will not wander again, more do not want to rely on fantasy day, I need to be brave to raise the friendship of the wine, in the crowded thin sky to stay a stroll from the look of the heroic, in the red beams carved on the vow of unswerving, so that the song of hope in the life of the world, weaving out the light colorful colorful life.
Say goodbye to all the heavy, looking for a fresh and bright heart, so that all the time are poured in the years of affection in the title page, so that all the helplessness are sprinkled in the cloudy autumn of yellow leaves. Without commitment, all the time will be weathered. But if you and I are sincere, it is like an uncommon piece of affection.
The night, quiet and no sound, but the sound of the waves, in the symphony of the waves, as if to hear a trace of the soul of the flotsam.
Fresh breath, a thought, let me hear the years wind chime.
Recalling the traces of years 2
I had lived in Tongzhou Liyuan for two years. That place is far from the center of the city, and thus relatively quiet. I was able to get off the subway and take two bus stops to get to the neighborhood.
The neighborhood is full of trees, much like a botanical garden. When I went to look at the house, I saw those buildings are in the lush trees cover, all of a sudden feel very good, really good ah, in a few leaves under the tree made the decision, live here. I lived here for two years. During these two years, I occasionally stood at the window of the twenty-fourth floor and looked out; if I looked upward again, I would undoubtedly see either a gray or blue sky, and if I looked downward, I could see a very, very small person walking slowly along a winding path. As he passed under the trees, he would be temporarily obliterated by the branches and leaves. Stepping out of the shade, I would see him again. When I stood on the high ground, the world seemed to get smaller, the people and the trees got smaller, but the green color of the trees and the grass didn't diminish at all, but became even more clearly recognizable as clusters of color. That, after all, is the color that they have been clinging to all their lives from beginning to end.
Especially valuable, there is an artificial lake in the neighborhood. Throughout the neighborhood, in addition to grass, trees in the grass, there are ditches and ponds. I can see these ditches and ponds are hooked together. As long as they are filled with water, the ditches are all connected. The artificial lake is also the right size, from a rockery cascades down a small waterfall, in the lake on the rocks can also stir up white waves, decent. There are also two white geese in the daily and a flock of black ducks swimming on the lake. I've seen the two white geese still in the lake when it rains, one lying on a wet rock in the middle of the lake, and one anchored in the water right near the rock. At this time there are people like me, specializing in umbrellas out to look at the rain, normal weather on weekdays rarely come out, once it rains instead of a fresh impulse, just like that head an umbrella standing at the lake, looking at the dense raindrops to the lake fell, causing fine ripples on the lake surface.
I happen to live upstairs next to the lake. So, every day when I go out and come back, I have to pass by the lake. I loved the setup. The lake has a gravel path in addition to a long paved wooden bridge some distance away, making it so that whenever I pass by, I have to notice a change in my footing, and my footing naturally slows down as the path changes. I have traveled many roads, and most of them are just roads, just for me to pass by. The path at this lake was thinking a little more. It deliberately around the water's edge, not to make things difficult for me, and I can not get through, but for my own good, want me to make more stops, see the lake lake scenery. And at this lake, a casual glance, no matter which viewpoint, are good scenery.
The district is very large, around the periphery of the neighborhood walk, a circle down to half an hour. The first thing you need to do is to get a good look at the neighborhood, and you'll be able to see what's happening. Summer evening seven or eight o'clock, people began to come out. Those who have children will bring their children. Those with dogs will bring their dogs. There are a lot of roads in the neighborhood. I lived there for two years, and I didn't walk all the way through it, and I didn't quite get it figured out. This led to the fact that I would leave and would constantly think about it, always like I was a little sorry. People just walk along these maze-like roads. Often it's a road where you're suddenly alone. You can hear people, but on other roads. You're on a road with grass and trees on either side, pinning the road even more cramped. There will be some loneliness, even depression, tension, but also a sense of relief and freedom. At this time, you can take off your mask, you can pull your heart out of your belly and put it in your palm. You can look at it.
I go out for walks sometimes late, maybe past twelve o'clock at night. It's late at night then, and the people who go out for a walk have gone back. I go out. I take a bichon frise that I have with me. It was covered in white fur and I simply called it White. I was walking at a slow pace and the dog would jump and run as if he was scattering, excited to come out at first sight after a long day in the room. It was only a few months old. Like me, it was considered to be involved in the world. But it's obviously younger than me, and it's more excited about the world. It also takes great pains to pee all over the place to make its mark. It would remind me of the Wuling man in the Peach Blossom Garden story who made the markings. After walking for a long time and getting tired, I will sit on the grass by the roadside, and the dog will continue to explore its world in the grass. After I shouted, it may also come over, quite obediently squatting next to me. At this time, I might look at the trees illuminated by the streetlights and the moon in the sky surrounded by clouds. As for my puppy, I'm not sure what it's looking at. It might be looking at me.