The long river of time, a leaf duckweed

Cold Moon, cold lonely city heart, cold lonely city deep years River. Cold star, cold the road of the world, cold a leaf of duckweed in the vast sea of the world. The moonlit night was as quiet as water, and the bamboo shadow was swaying outside the window. It was natural to miss the bright moon. I missed the people who went far away, the things that went far away, and the things that went far away, only to find that, I am so sentimental in my flourishing years. Yes, I am old-fashioned. Casual things and things will always evoke unexpectedly, recall the past left behind, and then spread out, it is still like this, imitation can restore yesterday’s bit by bit. But I forgot that I was just a leaf of duckweed in the vast sea of the world, destined to float, floating in the long river of time deep in the isolated city. In this way, when the years roll up, I will always be in a panic. I am so panic that I am in a mess and even sink in a certain period of time. The moon is shining, and my heart is tender. Standing in front of the unfolded window, I can see the boundless sky without feeling sad. It is so small that there is no shadow in the grass. It seems that it is not the size of an ant. At least, ants can be swarmed in black, which is spectacular. This is the power of unity. But I am different, so are you. Who is willing to join hands with me and work together? Who is willing to share weal and woe with you and do nothing selflessly? No! People are selfish, without profit but not doing; People are greedy, you are one, he is not reconciled. No one has to contain anyone, no one has to force anyone, and no one has the right to blame anyone. All are made and determined by human nature. The past is like a dream. This dream is just a dream. Maybe only in the dream can we find that beauty has been here before, just in a hurry. If you can’t keep it, you won’t stay, as long as there is still a sign in your heart. For me, it is also a comfort. After all, time is thin and cool. A casual turn is the age of a century. Even if we meet again, we will be different from each other. Things are different, people are different, and everything is different. It seems to be near and far away, which is specious. When the youth flies away, the age grows old, and the dust is flying all over the sky, I find that there is nothing I can do and nothing I can keep, including you. Through the years, it has accumulated love, hate and sorrow. The Wind Rises and falls, ups and downs. Although it is not wonderful, it is also unique. I don’t know how to write about life. I only know that every day, I am seriously writing the characters that belong to me. Although the characters are crooked, the handwriting is upright. Don’t ask to come, don’t ask to go, smoke around the floor, drink with the Stars and the moon, listen to the whisper of the Dawn. That is the final and best reward for those who insist.

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