Quiet, always has nothing to do with loneliness

Quiet, always has nothing to do with loneliness

Listening to a song and thinking about someone, your heart will be gentle, warm and painful. The words are singing at the fingertips, but they can’t draw the deep name in the bottom of the heart, but they can’t walk out of the missing deep into the marrow. Text: A person walks in a strange city, listening to sad music and watching strange scenery. We are all looking for life. Life is the process of looking for love. Everyone will meet three kinds of people: those you love, those who love you, and those who spend their whole life with you. Not every couple who are destined to love each other has the fate of keeping each other for a lifetime; Maybe this love is a deep love, and the next one will be destined for a lifetime. Go to love, as if you have never been hurt. For many peaceful days, I like to build myself a cup of elegant tea quietly like now. The fragrance of curling fragrance overflows the atrium. Sitting quietly in front of the screen, and then hiding in the net sea of nuoda alone. Write the words I like, and experience the feelings that words bring to me, either thick or light or shallow or deep. As promised, in the castle with words, the place where the heart lies is the most beautiful scenery. The crazy soul is lying on the paper, and I am eager to wear it. I can often read other people’s words that make my heart palpitate, either family affection or love. I can always see some sparks touching my heart colliding. I can also meet some women like me who are confused for love and crazy for love. I once painted the ground as a prison, and when I met you, whose face was haggard? Flowers bloom and fall, falling into mud, but love is not old. I never knew that happiness and sadness existed so tacitly. Open the palm, horizontal is love, vertical is pain, this cross of love and hate is the wound carved in my heart. Summer is hot, and I want to throw my lovesickness away. The Kiss is soft, the love is deep, the meaning is cut and cut, and I am always in my heart. How can I not lovesickness? I am separated from you, and I love you very much. The fingers were lightly twisted, which startled the string of the rhinoceros in the bottom of my heart, leaned against the memory, pieced together the fragments of memories, and embellished the colorful spots of the past. Silently counting the memories far away and the sadness gradually gone away, how could they not know that, by accident, the years passed quietly in the bleak annual rings, leaving only a line of silent vicissitudes. Prosperous things are scattered, and the sea becomes dust. Recalling the Yingyan in front of the flowers, I lingered under the moon and felt sentimental. Sigh that the fate comes and the fate is gone, the fate is like flying flowers, the dream is lingering, the dream is scattered, and the dream is like mist, dust and smoke. A kind of tenderness, a pulse of thought, a bleak water, a heart of the fallen flowers into mud, a prosperous eye into smoke, a green silk around the finger like Frost. There are always many people in life. Some people come and go, some go and return, some are close at hand, some are far away, some pass by, and some walk along. In any case, the sadness of ending up is inevitable. In everyone’s heart, there is a person born for himself. Everyone has a person who cares about him all his life. Everyone has a person who feels painful when he misses. This kind of missing is painful, just like the pain of breathing. It is always wrapped around the body and cannot be separated from it. How much love is embroidered into a piece of brocade, can it melt the smoke-like sorrow? You, who lean against the window with the string of fiber fingers, are still silent. The curtain is full of flying flowers, depicting your mind and the scenery passing through your eyebrows, and you don’t smell things outside the window. Perhaps, my pale words cannot tell the endless emotions and concerns for you. Yes, there are many precious and beautiful moments in life, which have been treasured in the warmest place in our hearts. There are also many beautiful encounters and reluctant differences in life, stepping on the familiar one in the past, you have traveled countless paths, and the scenery is still as prosperous as yesterday. The past is in a hurry, looking back, the past is common. After the end of the song, listen and get rid of the wound. A low eyebrow, a look back, at the end must be a curtain of dream thousand years drunk. Prosperity comes to an end, things are different, and you can’t give up your tenderness. I can’t give up my thoughts all day long. The old days are gone, and whose face is played by the evils of dust? When it was dark, the tenderness of looking through the autumn water and sleepless all night was blown to pieces. Silently wrote down a series of annihilated touches, but the spring scenery in the garden was taken away by the brilliance and vanity. With the noise of wind and dust, I choose loneliness. I like quietness, which has nothing to do with loneliness.

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