Nirvana after pursuit

I deposited your breath in my dream. In this noisy and impetuous society, in this era of steel chaos, I ran on the hot and dry afternoon, through the dark, lonely and horrible deep forest, through the crowded heads, we can only say: you are not what I pursue! Wedge I just want to find a kind of breath! In the eyes of the common people, the treasure in my eyes is like a bow! After the rainstorm, the deep gray clouds are like those things once reached. But now, with this fresh and turbid breath, it suddenly disappeared so abruptly. Even those fragments have not been left. Please forgive me, I have to use such objective and one-sided fragments to explain. Can’t I give up the meaning of the words themselves to me, if I am a little rich? I still have to pretend to say with relief: in fact, I have already put it down. What I pursue is not yours! Cangyang jiatuo said: for many years, you have been living in my wound. I have put down the world, but I have never put down you. You can say goodbye one by one in my life. Time is except life and death. Which one is not meddling. You said: You said you were just a wandering writer. With young dreams in the impetuous city full of steel bars. You said: you live in the prison with text hypothesis, taking the city as the background, or a mirage, wandering in the hot and dry afternoon. In the remote streets with indifferent human feelings, in the gray and black alleys with street lamps, under the advertisement cloth which was constantly mustered by the wind. I said: I am just a stranger from other places, searching for the free and easy words in the streets of people. I said: dear, we can be the same passers-. After being attached by words. The flowers are gradually charming! Daily Morning. The car drove across the street with mottled shadows of trees and roared off, leaving only residual dust. The surrounding noisy music flowed into the air from the CD store and was locked into thought-provoking words by us. The wandering artists who perform on the street, like us, are preparing for a brilliant start. We use silent words to fall into the pure white letter paper. The epitome in this city. We enjoy the pleasure that the city of nuoda is dissected and analyzed into words one by one by us. We so much fun. You look! Such a romantic city was compressed into different words one after another by us. And these different words reveal the same you. I am the joy? Or the sorrow? Cities are aging in words. Without the silent trace of time, is the eardrum familiar with the sound of the rapid youth tide, or is the city forcing me to ignore the strange separation. There is no wandering artist performing on the street, and no romantic beginning in the text! The CD machines in the video stores are Mozart’s indifferent off-site streets, and the gray and black alleys with street lamps are under the shabby advertising cloth which is constantly rising in the wind. Everything remains there with a domineering attitude after you leave. Yes! I understand that only I am the real passer-! Some people say that the greatest loneliness in the world is neither being alone nor being alone in the crowd. It is a song of harmony but not harmony. When you left, you said: you only have your words, and I am just an extra supporting role. However, there was clearly an image of US shivering outside the window and rubbing our hands with each other under the warm yellow shade of street lamps. Obviously, when the 13th black car stepped on the mottled traces of the tree shadow silently, promises made. You forgot. We said: We should always pursue words. Let he improving. And it is the same as Qiao Feng in Jin Yong’s works. He and his kung fu, I and my words are combined into one. Is it the overdone pursuit of the devil, or the Exhaustion overwhelmed by the indifference of reality. In the 13th night of the rainstorm, in the 13th month of the 13 stars. We all paid the due price for our pursuit., Whether it is full of scars or tired heart. Everything begins to Nirvana, or never reborn. Some people say: Everyone will pursue something in this world. But what I finally got was often not the main product I had pursued at the beginning. It turns out that what I pursue is not you! And what I got between Nirvana and rebirth was just a tired heart. Besides, is there any stumbling past covered with thorns. Postscript

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