For a long time, long enough to forget the birthday, forget the happiness, forget the pleasure of being a husband, a father, a son, as a family member, get a little insignificant household, but lose too much.
Time is always in a circle, Enron flow, can not find the beginning, can not stop, when I open my eyes full of vicissitudes of life, what I see is no longer the persistence of the original pair of trust. At the end of the long river of time, we can no longer spin colorful machines, nor can we figure out the good and evil of the human heart, only the provocation to the authority, who promised prosperity but quietly retired in solitude? Lonely memories across the sour heart, the dark wound in the wind will float away with the wind, the warmth of the world always makes me melancholy! Are you still the idol in my heart? Are you still the wise man who trusts me?
Hard work, loyalty and persistence, adhere to the illusion that should not be persisted, omitted the life of flattery, in exchange for quiet and decline, perhaps such a society that I do not adapt to this trend, can only live in the illusion of the three worlds, this is not that fault, the fault lies in the vat of society.
In the lonely night, in a quiet and silent atmosphere, drifting willfully, tapping the keyboard with any finger, pointing to the graceful dance, wantonly playing with the depressed feeling in the sea of heart.
Many times I want to stay away from the indifferent smoke of the world and look at the clouds on the horizon, but things go against my wishes. Responsibility and responsibility always flash in the middle of nowhere, home always comes back, days always pass, fingers inadvertently, always knock out the unpleasant texture in the bottom of my heart, and there will be no more love here.
Author: tender corpses
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