Pass by, but

Shoulder rub a missed, transparent pretend to say if, sadness eroded behind that piece of drifting silence.

The leaves fell more and more in the cold sunset, and the painful scenery at that moment was dwarfed by the beauty in the memory.

If you will meet later, please pass me by.

-- inscription

Our hearts are covered with dust. Unconsciously, I was touched by something, and the dust on my heart peeled off, so I ran into it unexpectedly, and I don't know how long this touch can last. When we leave, the rendering in our hearts is moving farther and farther away. Dust continues to fall, layer upon layer, our hearts like a thick layer of pupa, we can no longer see each other's hearts that the initial beauty.

The street lights lit up the night of the city, slow down the time. In the slow time, silence becomes a habit. Everyone is gone, the music is off, and you can look at the sky undisturbed. Too many people, there are too many bitterness, can be ruthless regardless. A person's world, so selfish, humble and stubbornly touch the self-righteous cold and warm, in the name of loneliness, cut off from the lively night. Life is battered on the one hand and smiles brightly on the other. We hide our hearts as if nothing had happened, meet again and never see each other again, don't we? a href=' http:///m/xihuan/' target='_blank' > like to blow? a href=' http:///m/huiyi/' target='_blank' > memories, with the lights out, buried with the rain, scattered with the wind. Suddenly want to go for a walk, a person's travel, can be aimless, no station, do not care about far. Or wandering, in the noisy streets, in the silent fields; in the rainy dusk, in the snowy black night; in the falling leaves in the wind noisy and lonely, indifference and loneliness, let tears sting scars, pain to revive memories. Fleeting years carry the passing of youth, memories go back with time. When I found that the past had become once, I may be in that lonely and lonely corner, encountered that one let my heart tremble moved.

As a result, a slightly old suitcase, which is simple and neatly folded, a drifting theme, a yearning that has never disappeared. Walk through a familiar or unfamiliar city, to the known and unknown tomorrow and the distance. The journey mended day and night, connected into a twilight, a person looked at the transparent to opaque windows, a person walked through the crowded platform and corridor, the ear occasionally miss across the cool, I know, some people do not need to say goodbye or forgive. I met so carelessly, this silent loneliness and desolation. The quiet of the village is restless with the dream of youth, the hustle and bustle of the city is crowded with the direction of progress, the train is loaded and unloaded, my heart perturbed and firm struggle with each other's melancholy, so tossing and turning, youth drifting. After seeing the scenery along the way, I walked into the colorful years, the gorgeous cover-up silence, leaping to the side of my face in the brilliant lights. Facing the wet wind, in the world of memory and sky, lonely smile, I laugh at the past of the wind, the stubbornness of rain, the vicissitudes of time, the recklessness of fate from one city to another, from one time to another, we smile and say goodbye and hello. Leave a mark on your heart, cover it with dust, and then, as always. The face of youth is old, how many memorial memories are there in the emotion?

The fleeting years in the rearview mirror flew back, and I watched the train passing through the noisy night, with orange lights on every window, whizzing past and going somewhere. I see myself interspersed in the busy city, every lamp illuminates the dream of moving forward, the streets and alleys are also silent and desolate.

In this dusty journey of life, no matter what we have passed, whether it is good or bad, complacency or melancholy, we will always occasionally stop to recall and feel the time, and calculate bit by bit. In this period of journey, we slowly lose and accumulate the strength. Everyone has his big or small wishes. I think of the catcher in the rye I saw many years ago. There is a kind of absurdity that speaks of kindness. Slowly, the night got late again, and through the open windows, the night sky of the city was permanently dim. The two little goldfish in the fish tank did not rest and made a squeaking sound. I closed my eyes and pressed on the heart that became a little sore.

I fell asleep vaguely, but I didn't sleep very well. Anyway, I could feel that the lights were not turned off, and someone was walking around the room, tossing about with this restless night. There was a heavy rain in the middle of the night, and the dense sound of rain woke me up. There was a cool feeling of rain in the air poured into the open window. I hugged the quilt and continued to sleep vaguely. The open window, the rainy night, no one answered. Then comes the messy dream, in which there is a beautiful scenery, quiet and clear. In places I have never been to, I can remember the clean pebbles in the sun, and I can still feel the clear coolness in the shallow water. Missed a stack, and encountered a scenery, and then found that there is something very important left in the car, can not catch up, can not find it. I stand in the same place, can not go back, the scenery is beautiful, I am so tired.

Sometimes walking through a long aisle, or dark, or brightly lit on both sides, it is like walking through a long period of time, and then find that youth is gone. Steps mixed with heavy, eyes show the vicissitudes of life, and then see the world in front of me, the people around them, have changed, leaving me to look in the mirror at the beginning of my lips, frivolous smile.

That frivolous smile well disguised the inner loneliness, unruly leisurely to tired, I do not use silence to explain my sadness, but in that silent silence can let memories slowly precipitate. Fleeting youth, back to the original rice white like a simple, ignorant time, a very beautiful picture.

Sometimes a person reads all kinds of essays and books in the dormitory; sometimes he orders the simplest egg fried rice in a small noodle shop on the street through the flow of people; sometimes he drinks alone in the dim darkness of the night light at the stall in the alley; sometimes a person like this doodles on the computer with messy memories and sadness in his heart. Life is monotonous, as always. Always feel that there seems to be something missing around me, so that my heartbeat without rhythm, so that my youth lost the melody, so that my sky began to rain, gray and pale. A lot of times, I will suddenly think of you, think of you that far away once. However, why is it that I am still willing to let my heart slowly break up and sink in memories when I know that this fate brings me only memories?

Sinking time, the drizzle obsessed the city, the noise in front of the eyes became a little indifferent blur, the cold air blew away the thoughts outside the window, I carried a room of darkness, acquiesced in sadness. Re-mention those old words, lost and pale for this cold time, the black on the windowsill gradually spread and eroded, heard a disturbance outside the door, clear the door, a page of silence. Quiet to a little tired, looking at the confused lights fell asleep, confused emotions from the dream, continue to remember the regret and sadness, the life of that lonely, stubborn, has refused to forgive.

Lost in the annihilation of the past, there is a small yearning, is that a piece of writing ignorant note, passing on a legend about green onions, engraved, a wish about eternity. That sentence forever, said so easily fell so heavy, memories spread out, youth can not bear the burden, at that moment understated wishes, fragmented into, a wisp of impression drifting with the wind. The later days do not matter, the people in life come and go, gather and scatter, like those who love and do not love, all pass by the wrong body from the life, a smile, a desolate there is such a person, he has inadvertently approached you in your twenties that the most beautiful years and life, and then inadvertently with you by mistake.

One afternoon many years later

Maybe you are in a street in a city far away.

In the light sloping down in front of the windowsill