A person's life is like a running bus. It stops and goes from time to time. When some people get off, new faces fill in the blank. They are all in a hurry. It was only after the early morning that the original emptiness was restored.
I have been used to being alone, so the so-called departure is just a short season of lovesickness and sadness. Occasional reunion will only use a simple smile to express everything. in the course of time. We have become a tacit understanding that we don't enjoy seeing each other and leave without hurting.
After bearing too many things that life cannot bear, all wounds have become an avant-garde habit, no longer afraid of dusk and night, and even less prone to tears. But sometimes there are also some lonely and strange feelings, afraid of seeing falling flowers and flowing water.
Accustomed to smoking alone and walking alone, especially at night, with one mouthful of smoke, Mars will flash like the stars in the sky. And then spit out a cloud of confused smoke.
Fear of listening to music with earplugs, so that you will not feel the existence of the world, can not hear the breath of the world, like a very ethereal thing slowly devouring itself. I dare not look at my diary and photos in the light at night. That will open the shackles of my memory. I can't control the ghosts that escape, and they will devour them.
I like to look at the southern sky in autumn and see geese disappear on the horizon at dusk. Step on the thick leaves to feel the softness and light passing of life, watch the falling leaves, and feel the powerlessness of life. The inexplicable habit is to lean on the bare trunk to look up at the deep sky and see the enchanted projection under the sunset. Occasionally, I would pick up a few pieces of red maple leaves burned all over the body and put them in my notebook skillfully. When I mentioned the black pen, I unconsciously repeated the same name, but my memory was already blurred.
I learned to be calm and face everything calmly, no matter in the past or in the future. Everything became calm. No longer ask about right and wrong, all right and wrong are no longer important. No matter right or wrong, time will never stop, and life is still easy. Suddenly I understand a lot. I will not let memory become an unprecedented burden of life, nor let it become my own decoration. Remembering Li Bihua's words, "Some people in life are like nails. If they lose them, they lose them, which is irrelevant and can regenerate; others are like wisdom teeth, which will never come back after leaving, and the pain will not be revived".
I am used to wandering in the street alone in the alternate seasons, watching the crowd and traffic, and no longer believe in fairy tales. Sometimes I believe in fate, but I don't understand who is who's destiny.
Fate has long lost its vitality in the face of reality. The so-called love at first sight is just wishful thinking. It is not fate that plays tricks on people, but people that play tricks on fate.
One look back, one stop, another year. People are in a trance, like white horses passing by, but they can't stay. Accustomed to a person life In one year's time, only one's own steps step into shallow growth rings, leaving too many gaps but really clean. At least you can not say those words against your heart, and you don't need to put a stiff smile on your young face.
Like a person alone, no longer sad because of the changes in the outside world, no longer bear too much depression and sadness. Suddenly I remembered the name in the diary, a name that had warmed my heart, just a name, nothing.
I'm still myself, alone!
