There are some encounters, but if you miss it, you will stop.
Text / remnant moon
Years stand on the tiptoe of fate, meet the fireworks of this fleeting time, memory along the traces of meeting, leaving a journey of beautiful imagination.
I walk in the prosperity of life and experience all the beauty and frustrations given by time. How many scenery, blurred in the depths of memory can not find clues, and how many memories, fell on the way to never get up again. Forget, who will forget the confession, abandoned in the past wind and rain, passing each other.
Whose dream I am looking for, and who leaves a mark in my dream, time has been mercilessly turned page after page, each page has witnessed the growth of experience, it sometimes far away, sometimes long appear in the way of our lives.
All of a sudden, I think of a lot of experiences, as well as those who have accompanied me through one journey after another. The story has gone through many twists and turns from strangers to familiarity. Meeting is simple, acquaintance is always not easy, so I respect every hard-won acquaintance and thank fate for every reunion, even if it is only a short trip, it also brings a different kind of warmth to my world.
I also know that some encounter, missed once, that is life, no matter how vast the sky you have, witness the miracle how gorgeous, in a click, all our nostalgia, all reluctant to give up, and even hatred, are firmly frozen by time in the memory turned at that moment, can no longer return to the distinct original.
How I hope that the story takes us and goes on like this, with each other's smiles and tears on the road. Yes, I always thought it would go on like this, but time simply turned a corner. I can never find the acquaintance I used to know. Memory seems to stay for a moment, but leave behind the sadness that things have changed, rippling in our staggered encounter how do not want to stop.
Lingering in the silent night, the cool evening breeze swept across the thin figure, I tightened my clothes and began to walk aimlessly. Autumn leaves fall into the water, the red makeup on the other side is in full bloom, the years are circling around, and it is time for a season of autumn harvest, and I, as if not aware of it, have quietly slipped away, leaving only the dream of looking back, missing into a war.
This is my story, passing by your time, rippling in the cradle of every encounter. Suddenly forget, who commemorate each other, the years into a song, blooming this poetic time.
Just do not give up, our most beautiful memory, so stop growing old in the cold time. Thinking of the laughter and laughter I walked through together, I couldn't come back when I was hugged in my nostalgic chest, so I learned to face every minute and every second of meeting with gratitude.
When parting, you will always understand that it is not easy to meet. Each story, from strange to familiar, from familiar to strange, how many frustrations have been left in the middle, and whose tears are flying at the end.
The ruthlessness of the years, always like to make the most beautiful time disappear quickly, when the memory looks back, yesterday comes again, everything has changed beyond recognition.
It turns out that the time of meeting will be old, the affectionate companion will disperse, and no matter how deep the memory can not escape forgetting.
Put down, or can not let go, after all, it is a dream, wake up, then forget
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