Sad logs. It s not aesthetic, it s not aesthetically pleasing to be sad

The cherry blossoms are all over the ground, whose humility is withering wantonly.

The ground is full of rain, whose mercy is spreading in a panic.

The cold wind is coming.

If you blow to my side with him, I will surely jump into your arms and let you hold me and listen to my sobs.

Do you know that this sobbing prays for you every night, and every sobbing represents that I miss you for every love word, but I will wish you happiness like a certain heroine I leave, forgetting your face, forgetting your light smile.

Whose return date has been taken away by this rain?

Whose thoughts are blown away by this wind?

Whose emptiness has been stranded by this wound?

1) Not every branch can rest the phoenix.

Not every shoulder can be leaned on by a woman.

The hand of the son is carried with the old.

Ephemeral happiness can only slowly fade in memories and annihilate forever Synonymous with happiness.

I guess it's a luxury for me.

I don't advocate vigorous love, but I also don't want the emptiness of loneliness.

That's it, my blue face.

So be it, my confidant.

We are only fit to soar between heaven and earth.

But it's not suitable for snuggling up between the universes.

2) Thank you for your tenderness and wait quietly with love in your hand.

But what can I give you? Who's in whose storyline is in a catastrophe from now on, I don't want everything to be obscured by you, I don't want to make you sad. Maybe everyone has someone who can't forget how humble their love is, but I'm not necessarily all of you, not necessarily your person.

The whole city is dark and lonely people looking for their place, thank you for the embrace, but I have to break free. I will be sad with you and happy with you, but we are not a couple. It's just blue face.

I don't think I'm ready and I don't want to hurt you.

Can you make me not so sad, I just want you to be with me, of course you will always be good friends.

Wind, leaves, missing.

The wind ruthlessly took away the last leaf, whether it was liberation, pursuit, or the tree's non-retention.

Gaze into the distance and want to find a direction.

What was once a dream has flown to the fantasy of heaven.

A season carries too much of the past, and suddenly looking back, it seems like yesterday.

The heart is not desolate, turning over the vicissitudes of the past.

The dust lost my eyes.

On the way to hope, you have given me strength.

Lifetime; I have not forgotten.

I shouted your name and ran into the distance, trying to make my dream come true.

Hide you in my heart with my thoughts.

The heart and calm look like the moon in the water.

From now on, there will be no increase in my trauma in anyone.

Loved corners and darkness, lonely but not sad.

Fall in love with the merciless years, but stronger without a smile.

The wind is still so frivolous, never giving in; Until it becomes an injury...

Trees stand on the side of the open road, and every gust of wind passes by it will not be stopped.

Ye, with dreams, thoughts will always move forward; It will stand by your side for me.

I、Looking at the direction where the leaves are drifting,Smile and turn gracefully and fade into the distance。

Every year, new people walk in with wide eyes.

Just like the once young and naïve self.

And every year, there are people who leave with an unspeakable feeling.

In the final lookback.

Falling hot tears.

The sun sets. Shut the door forever.

The door that separates youth from the earthly world.

Crash slammed shut. Someday.

I'll get out of here too.

It's been a long time since I've been here.

You and I have been moved, but they don't belong to each other" my own article, others made it into flash, you can take a look.

Unintentionally, the past laughter and tears are evoked.

Suddenly, the heartache could no longer be suppressed.

It turned out that it was never forgotten.

The melody in Melody's head kept turning.

Loved You There are so many things I forgot to tell you.

Sit alone at dawn home

You can check it out here.

Actually, I'm tired.

Actually, no one has been able to understand me, I am used to pretending to be strong, and I am used to facing everything alone.

I don't know myself.

What the hell do you want?

Sometimes. I can be very happy to talk to everyone, I can be very presumptuous.

But no one knew that it was just a disguise, a very deliberate disguise.

I can make myself happy and happy.

But he can't find a source of happiness, and he only makes himself giggle.

I'm not used to telling people about it, because I'm not used to people looking at me with pity.

Actually, I'm very much.

I cherish the people around me, but the pressure of life makes me good at forgetting and forgetting all those memories.

I thought that forgetting would make me happy.

The night was coming, and the air around was restless.

A person sits in front of the window, staring at the person outside the window.

I don't know what I'm thinking.

Nostalgia for the past, that's all.

Actually, I was so tired that I really wanted to let go of everything.

When did I find out that I don't like to keep a diary, even if there are many things in my heart, I would rather hold it in my heart, not because I don't want to say it, but because I'm tired.

Hung up QQ but didn't chat.

It's just a matter of turning the space on and off the space over and over again.

When. I don't like chasing and fighting anymore, but I really want to be as alive as I used to.

I like to turn off the lights and let the loneliness wrap me in the dark night, but I am afraid of the dark.

I also want to get together with friends once in a while.

Or happy. or disappointed.

I also occasionally look for ways to vent.

or effective. or worse.

Occasionally, I will be lonely and pick up my phone and open the address book, over and over again. But I don't know who to call.

The evening breeze blows gently, who can understand my heart? Aftertaste of the day What do I have to say about the feeling of breathing this air? How?

And how can I carry that little bit of beauty? The indifferent scenery of the rain in early autumn is a bit too much! To forget?

Or should I keep it in mind? I think I'm lost. In fact, you don't know that in the next second, I made a decision and decided not to give up!

It's hard to mention the past that I can't let go, those forgotten footprints that I have walked. I've carved them into the empty forest, memories that I can't erase. How can we turn decadence into magnificence?

The one in the diary, right behind! How can this sigh of the night teach me to learn to escape?

Will this answer you give me stay with me for the rest of my life? And don't dare to beg for your forgiveness, stay in an empty room for you, look at the stars and think of you, even it has a contemptuous expression? I can't believe it.

The wind has taken away your voice with such cruelty, how can I follow it? If I were incognito and only entrusted my feelings to memories, would you be in a hurry to find me? I use the words of autumn to record the time we have walked together, my face is full of melancholy when I think of you, I use the words of autumn to describe our future, I use the words of autumn to foreshadow this love, and the wind contains the memories of our past.

Ignorant people, in the lonely world, there is only the right to admit defeat, but who will admit defeat? This kind of ending, this definition is enough to sensitize my thoughts. But I was very eager to create a beautiful miracle in this mood, and the night came, gradually approaching, leaving me alone, enjoying the loneliness.

Who's crying? And who's battling loneliness? Such an aura fills the room all the time.

If you love it, you will always love it.

Funeral. For you, tear apart the last memories and piece them together into a rain of fireworks flying in the sky. For you, the past of the next day of burial is deduced as the song of life and death of the Ninth City.

The vine wrapped in the sixteenth century, haunting thoughts, full of thorns, the date of blooming, stretches the breath of 2010, tossing and turning. The black wood grain is dense, the carved inscriptions are beautiful, those that belong to the evidence of love, annihilation, antiquity, become a mystery. The roses are rendered with blood-colored glass, transparent but untouchable.

The paper cigarette in the cemetery rose, picked up the ** drip drop, and sent it slowly with a light hand, and the aftermath was wisps after wisps.