I want a trip without you.

When standing on the line of time, looking back all the way from the starting point, looking for the dream of your life; when new shoes become old shoes, new love becomes old love; when time buries your footprints, fate reshapes your face; stop, suddenly find loneliness on the left, memories on the right preface, quietly bury the story. Knowing that the past was as sad as a dream, I locked my heart and traveled alone.

The years like flowers have long been included in the rings, and the old traces of falling red have become mud with the wind and dust. Suddenly looking back, lonely as I am, waking up quietly in the light years of sorrow. Habit in the quiet time to fold the lifeline of time and space slowly run-in, intentionally or unintentionally along the thoughts diffuse into the heart of the blank, accompanied by a wisp of breeze, and began to drift away.

The past is doomed to be irrevocable, and the future is even more untouchable.

When the dust of the years sealed all the ups and downs, only the decadent desolate memory went straight to the heart. The cold rain swept by, the remaining dust set off a cold current, immersed in the loose eyes, dimmed all the clear and bright smiles in the landscape, hurt the breath, and broke the heart.

Look at the passing of smoke and clouds, a long sad song, lament the pain of the sad loss of the past, but also only in their own heart lake blurred, floating half of the figure, unclaimed, in which the sorrow and sour, like the pain of broken cocoons, but not butterflies, nor fruit.

In the end, everything seems to be borne by only one person, with no one to listen and no way to talk. That fingertip flowing years, through the vast wind and smoke of the world, quietly hidden in solitude, a stream of gloomy feelings come, quiet dampness wrapped with cool melancholy, shallow buckle heart, do not feel sad.

I am also an ordinary person, with my own joys and sorrows, beating pots, bowls and spoons every day, carrying a curtain of worries, stepping on the worries and sorrows of life, walking at the intersection of life. Have always been careful to make themselves a warm and clever child in the eyes of everyone, the end is almost sad.

In the network, shielded all groups, in front of each dialog box blankly in a daze, can not help but filled with emotion, tears will always be inexplicable in front of the cold, in the surprised eyes of friends quickly erased the corner of the eye crystal, like a fool forced to smile and say I'm fine, I'm fine.

Gazing and giggling, looking back speechless. Inexplicably want a trip, temporarily away from the troubles of the world, find a quiet corner gently, quietly go I want a trip, leave footprints everywhere, with you. I am in the eyes of others, you are in my heart.

I want to travel alone without leaving any footprints. I am in your memory, but not in your heart.

I want a trip, no matter where I am wandering, as long as I am with you, I am happy to go anywhere.

I want a trip, regardless of the scenery along the way, as long as with you, desolation will be beautiful.

Text / empty lane