Boat water no-

Boat water no-

May came unconsciously in an instant, and could not hear its footsteps. April had already come behind the years. On Wednesday, May 2nd, 2012, standing alone by the Singapore River, enjoying a moment of leisure. In the sky with dense floating clouds, the fierce sun was collected by the clouds, but he also put on a gold dress for himself. The warm breeze blew slowly and kissed my cheek gently, which also aroused shallow memories. There are few pedestrians on the street, and the traffic flow of cars is not much, which just gives me the feeling of leisure. The waves on the river were pushed slowly. Even though they were tired, they were still urged to keep moving forward, unwilling to stop, just like days passing day and night. The sun rises and the moon falls, and the stars change. Many unknown times are lost in the boring years like this. I often sit alone in the corner of the dusk, looking at all the shadows being pulled long, and then gradually disappear. I always sigh that the beautiful things in the world cannot be forced to stay. Always think about something in your mind silently at that moment, and miss someone quietly. Occasionally I think of myself in middle age, but suddenly I feel that my sail seems to be torn apart by the fierce wind of life, only to feel that I have been stagnant in a whirlpool, circling around, but I don’t know which direction to go. Lost yourself, lost the future, and even lost the goal of life. I often wonder whether I can’t distinguish the direction from now on if I just spend the rest of my life in such a muddled way. There is no ambition to climb over the mountains, no wish to cross the ocean, and only want to feel the warmth of human feelings in the world. However, I always miss some lost footprints when raindrops touch the window lightly. A ship full of tourists crossed the river slowly, stirring more wave marks and raising bursts of white foam. Looking at the tourists looking around leisurely on the boat, or wearing straw hats or holding binoculars, overlooking the buildings standing around, they admired me. Once upon a time, I also left all the trivial things like them, and took my beloved people to travel around the mountains and waters to feel the beauty of life. The disturbed river, along with the ships drifting away, also restored the usual warm current. Many things, just like ships crossing the river, will always set off countless ripples at that moment. Countless waves may make invisible waves ripple in the heart. However, when time passes by, you will find that everything will return to the usual calm, and no trace of the past will be found. Therefore, day after day, year after year, confused to find the end of life. In fact, every destination is a new beginning. Falling Leaves, presented, is the cycle of reincarnation. Life is the constant reincarnation between life and death, love and hate, gathering and scattering, sorrow and joy. Only by crying, laughing, angry and loving can we truly experience the five flavors of life and be regarded as a book that has experienced life. Most of the time, we think that we have left an eternal memory in someone’s life, blooming glorious splendor. However, when the river of life goes by, you will find that you believe in your feelings. The original moving will be killed by the sharp blade of time into thin memories. Looking back, perhaps we can only accept the past ignorance with a calm smile. No matter how much you have paid or what kind of unforgettable experience you have spent hand in hand, people’s emotions will gradually fade with the change of mood. Even though day and night are opposite, people will still find that they will sadly forget the joy of meeting at that time. Facing familiar and unfamiliar faces every day, I really don’t know why I was born and why I worked hard. Life is full of many false smiles and fraudulent words. Is it true that there is only an ordinary rule of sunrise and sunset? I once looked at myself in the mirror and was astonished to find the traces left by time on my face, just like the milestones in life, which were written with bitter paths and narrated unknown stories one by one. Sometimes, I really hope that I can slowly cross every scenery along the river of life. Don’t stay, don’t regret, just watch the evolution of things from a distance, don’t want to insert it, because I have already found that I can’t bear the big wind and waves of life. Life is like a river, flowing endlessly. Since it came to this world, life is just like blood flowing slowly with the pulse. Where it passes, it will be dyed by everything around. Therefore, a spring of clear water mixed with many colors and filthy, gradually made life happy, regretful and polluted. As the saying goes, those who are close to Zhu are red, and those who are close to ink are black. The River of Life is also the road chosen by oneself, and gradually becomes a gray stream. The Other Shore is always the most beautiful. On the other side, it is always regarded as a beautiful picture of green willows drooping, red flowers blooming, clear sky and clear sea. Therefore, people like to stand on this shore and overlook the remote shore, ignoring the flowers and trees around their bodies, and thus they can not integrate into the world they should belong. People’s desire often faces some undeserved extravagant hopes, which leads to a confusion in their hearts. There is a saying that there is no trace of boats passing through the water, isn’t the river of life like this? Every time someone or something passes through his heart and wipes out the instant brilliance, he always hopes that it will be an eternal memory, but forgets that the river will take away everything, no matter it is fallen leaves, broken branches or residual flowers will drift along the river and gradually disappear from life. Maybe there would be one or two things, which stirred up quite big ripples like small stones and stirred up beautiful spray, but they would only be deposited in the bottom of my heart and would never be seen. There is no trace of the boat passing through the water. I hope all the things left in my memory are the best past. 2012.05.03 Like (prose editor: Shu Kuang) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. 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