Fireworks are perishable, leaving a touch of beauty alone.

As soon as I think of the love in this world, how much pity do I have?

Tender folding paper this cherish, a wisp of sorrow west building leaning on.

Both of us in misfortune go from shore to shore. Meeting now, need we have known each other before?

Unluckily against the wind, love is more and more easy to destroy.

-- inscription

Occasionally, my ashes stained your skirt, I wanted to be closer to you, but added to your haggard and sadness, this is not what I want. Looking back is a kind of fate, drunk to ask what year it is tonight? Where would I put it if I hadn't met you? If I hadn't met you, would I still wander on the lonely ferry? Choose such an encounter, or love words accidentally provoke dust, the fate of self-extinction, fate is not caused by people. As Sanmao said, "once you have passed, then you will leave time." Yes, I just hope that the encounter at some moment will not be missed, even if it is as gorgeous as fireworks, this messy text may also be a touch of purplish, occasional aftertaste, but also can piece together a complete memory.

How much affection?

The season of blooming in the dream has gone a long way, but the droplets of memory keep turning in my mind, flying in many tears, looking back suddenly, a ray of breeze, passing through the dust of the world, the heartache fireworks are instantly beautiful, only the sky is still dark. The reality is stable, each other already has a happy little family, should not have such feelings. It's just that I don't understand that the constant bond between each other is the small Lianyuan in the clear memory, but now the picture has been frozen, and the years have left merciless traces. I only wish that someone can understand the inner monologue. My ink marks, like a piece of solidified Su Pa, are always stained in my blue shirt and never wake up. Desperate choice to believe you, is waiting, waiting for the beautiful moment of fireworks, stop, with time to miss.

Headphones are tingling melodies, sentimental, not necessarily not optimistic, perhaps, just a moment of emotion, believe in yourself, can be well controlled. If you don't tell the truth, no one knows what's on your mind, but what if you say it? I know that there is no limit to eternity, fireworks, concentrate all the energy, only for that second blooming moment, this is not eternity? At this time, I can not help looking up at the fireworks people, whether the fireworks also evoke some kind of dissipated memories, never let go? Maybe I am just a glimpse to wander alone in your heart, only to recite the wind for you and drink my love in the sad and soft poems.

The incense book Hong Yan Zhuan, the Sanskrit sound tells the warmth, extremely warm. Don't be melancholy, please wish that what is indifferent is not time, but yourself!

Once the era of innocence, the beauty of first love, happy in the publicity of youth, in the vicissitudes of life, in the fetters of reality to leave, or leave a touch of fragrance, scattered in the changing seasons. Miss a period of love years, often by the moonlight, with a touch of ink to outline your outline. Originally, some memories, is love to the extreme pain, never forget the sound and face, would like to ask: I still have no regrets, this life road, Mo Kongdu, it is better to miss each other. Those days without contact, precipitated the palpitations of the past, soothed the sadness of a certain second, said hello to you in the tearful eyes, and then left.

The taste of summer is getting stronger and stronger, and it is difficult to accept the feelings in my heart. I look forward to the opportunity to get close to each other. Maybe the warm day can also become a poem. Think of Lu Xiaoman's love story, "fireworks are easy to get cold, and time is easy to die." If I don't read this book, I don't know that Lu Xiaoman is just Xu Zhimo's wife. Although once Shen Lun, but Xu Zhimo's death, like thunder, indeed, as Hu Shi said, Lu Xiaoman is a must to see the scenery. Her love makes people feel desolate. Love is so difficult to grasp, who can predict tomorrow? The earthly world was originally empty, died in a hurry, and finally returned to the dust, this life is worrying, why look forward to the next life?

I stand alone on the edge of the water and clouds, and it is hard to forget each other. I sang such a song all my life, waiting for you to come and be with me quietly. Outside the window of the night, there are few noisy night stars in the city during the day. I know that the moon will be full and missing, and the beauty of the moon before flowers will be lost in the wind and clouds. The wonderful pen in hand is a sad book. Perhaps because it is too young, so that do not know the future time, even so long, life is not a thousand-petal lotus, I would like to bloom. Because I don't want to wither and wither prematurely, when the wind blows away the broken fleeting years, your smiling face as pure as fireworks becomes the drunken beauty on the way of my life.

Gave you wanton little tenderness, although you also said that you have been slowly accompany me to go, but that all solidified, so and so there is no resentment, after all, you are rich my pen tip of the predestined person, just gave a beautiful exit silently. Occasionally will still miss you, miss you when some happiness, happiness when some sad, miss a period of injury, do not cry, do not speak.

I remember that there is such a sentence in Qiufeng ci: Acacia knows when to meet, and this night is embarrassed. Yes, at that time, I was sorry, but now I feel chilled. Even after saying goodbye for several years, looking at the afternoon sunshine, I still think about it occasionally. Life still has to go on, the past has been doomed, brave once is also very good, with the most indifferent thoughts, the interpretation of the most beautiful life.

Fireworks is like a story, the original we most want but can not get, after the baptism of the years, there is a mature performance. The heart can no longer have no direction, nor can it do as it pleases. Believe that the beauty of life, this is a wordless dirge, over the cold loneliness, whether the wet heart is still the same? Count the fallen leaves in front of the door, you are the most beautiful note of this season.

In this life, I want to be a brilliant woman, submerged in fireworks with nowhere to dodge, even if the flowers bloom, I also want to do that delicate and beautiful stamens. There are endless green mulberry trees in a city. Are the falling Qionghua fireworks? Speechless, I can't find myself. Pick up some thoughts, and a wisp of incense, a dust heart, Zen light and elegant life, leaving a touch of Yan ran!

Author: Ai Yufei