Floating life is like a dream, we can never go back.

I have been having a dream, in the dream, I see memories into the sea, as sad as mountains. In the middle of the mountain and sea, I saw that man, unique and independent. A look at the city, and then take care of the country, there is a heavy fish falling geese, there is a closed moon shy flower appearance, graceful and elegant state, light like a fairy flower. Taste the unique beauty, rely on the city dance, in the light white pear blossom noodles, light willow waist quietly according to the delicate flowers according to the water, action such as weak willow supporting the wind, day and night traction, like a chaotic floating life, but can never go back.

A look back between Italy, waiting for the most important person in the limited life, even if the end of time, even if the vicissitudes of life.

Perhaps, some people's waiting has been God's mercy, smiling hand in hand, and grow old together; perhaps, some people all their lives, God can only give him boundless waiting and endless helplessness. Maybe we can imagine, maybe we have met, the right one, he or she, once walked through the world of mortals hand in hand, watched the ebb and flow of the tide together, and made an agreement with each other. However, we are lost by the troubles of the world, always do not know that the fate of the person is you, still waiting, expecting, until the passage of time, the years are getting older, we will forget each other, can not return to the memory of the past.

Perhaps, life is like a big stage, life with a story is nothing more than a wonderful play, life is reproduced with ups and downs, nothing more than the transformation of the stage, from lively to lonely ending, singing countless joys and sorrows in the world, no matter how wonderful the story is, no matter how twists and turns the plot is, it is nothing but a you, nothing but a me. But you and I are just dream-like memories, but also the black and white pieces of go, according to the constantly changing pace of life, the interpretation of the vicissitudes of the world. And the world, step by step, who this set up for, we have no way to know, maybe you, maybe me, maybe others, or from no set up people, chaos floating life, memorial to the passing story.

In this dusty world, some people say that the fate of this life is to continue the love of the previous life, and the robbery of this life is to repay the debts of the previous life. Past life and this life, this life and the afterlife, whether there are really countless reincarnation overturns, as well as the fate of life. I stand at the corner of the street where people come and go, looking at the shuttling crowd, the familiar and unfamiliar road, the flowers and trees on both sides of the road, the eyes are deep and distant. At this time, some thoughts may no longer belong to themselves, around the sound of cars one after another, the noise of people, but I am like stepping into a world of fog, quiet and lonely, and I, the person in the fog, constantly wandering and searching, but can not find where the ferry is, where is the light? In a dream?

Do you really have a plan to turn around and understand the fate of cause and effect in the world? Does everyone really have a good life book? And whether we can only follow the doomed road, walk all the way, meet all the way, meet all the way? Still remember you once said: I believe in reincarnation, believe in doom. You, the woman I love in this life, although the reality does not have a deep acquaintance with sadness, the imprint of some words is also deep in my heart, the longer the clearer. Yiyi, on the other hand, is the result of going through too much and believing in fate. Like a dream, I am the only one in the same place when I wake up. A book once wrote: people appear calm and calm because they believe in the theory of fate. I think this is true, because I believe that people will not insist on changing the arranged chapters of life; they will not care too much about the success or failure of right and wrong, and they will not delete the fragments of deep affection in life; they will not rejoice for the sake of getting. I won't be too sad for loss; I won't be happy and sad for the impermanence of life.

Dear, and I, until now can not really believe in fate, perhaps really wait until the fate of the moment, I may have the answer. Or maybe I actually believe, because I am a young man who believes in fate, and I often say that meeting and acquaintance is a kind of fate. However, believe or not, with anyone, is just a choice of state of mind. If you believe, you will have it, and if you do not believe it, you will not have it. Although I am stubborn, I always lower my eyebrows for some subtle feelings and sigh constantly for some kind of sadness of vicissitudes of life.

Life itself, pure and clean, is like a piece of snow-white paper. It is because of constant graffiti and wiping, that it has a riotous color and becomes dilapidated with age. And the same is true of life, from the ignorance of the baby to the green snow, how can it remain the same for such a long time? in the process of growing up, we have gradually been contaminated with too much dust; the process of life is like setting sail, following the waves of the sea, farther and farther. When the time is gone and the youth is gone, the years begin to invade our bodies and our souls, will we sit still under the banyan tree, look up at the sun, and then count the memories of our old age? recall the colorful spring that we once had? Maybe at that time, no matter how we pick it up and how we piece it together, we will never be the same again.

In this world, the most windy, the most boundless, the most helpless, but also the most ruthless, obviously gives us a place to rest, however, the wandering heart has nowhere to put. Some people panic all day long, not because there is no home, but because of the lack of a place for spiritual placement. Therefore, we still pack our bags, embrace a dream, tread thousands of waters, stubbornly and stubbornly tossing and turning in the world, just for wandering far away, wandering. When the time is in a hurry to grow old, we have also seen all the spring flowers and autumn moon, prosperous fall, whether to encounter with others, whether to meet again, those fleeting memories of the story, has long been in the red earth in the delicate and beautiful flowers, although no one appreciates, but still undefeated.

How many stories of life, how many ups and downs, brewed how many mistakes of regret, and these regrets, also like the indispensable scenery in life, less, then the food is tasteless. We are arranging our own lives, directing scenes of drama, watching countless parting of life and death, joys and sorrows, but so powerless. I have seen too many friends' emotional paths, and most of them end in tears. I feel sorry for them, but there is nothing I can do about them. The word of love, if it can be put away freely, it will begin, and it will end when it comes to an end. There is no nostalgia or too much entanglement. How good is it to let go quietly and forget lightly?

If life is only like seeing each other for the first time, but we know each other once we have met. These days, this sentence has been reverberating in my mind, we can not go back. The bosom is full of unknown feeling, which has not faded for a long time. Every time I read and think carefully, I can always think of too much of the past, but the more I think of it, the more I sigh. Once sighed, if meet, know each other, know each other after the outcome will be mutual loss, then I hope life is just like the first meeting, acquaintance never know each other. But did not think carefully, if really only see for the first time, there are not so many stories, so many whirling figures, life is like a pool of stagnant water, can not blow a ripple, insipid but also doomed to inaction. Floating life is like a dream, all the stories can not go back to the past.

Perhaps everyone has a nostalgic complex, after a long journey of life, the most nostalgic is still those green years, those colorful, Yingfei grass long beautiful past, but the prosperity of the world is certain, the years are disillusioned and silent, more or less prosperous into the past, a dream of legends through the ages. The past can only be in the past, can not be retained, we can only in the fleeting afternoon, bubble a pot of bitter tea, shallow recollection. And now, what we should cherish is everything now. No matter whether we are strong or weak, wise or stupid, we just need to live in this bustling, barren, noisy and quiet time, sad, smiling, aching, and happy.

The shallow moon is reflected in the window, the memory of the past is taken away, forget those who do not hurt, gently bid farewell. Passion faded, I was in peace with each other to wipe the feelings of Confucianism, when I left that gentle world, lying in the warm arms, understand that this time is the end, we can not go back. The pain goes away with the sorrow of the autumn leaves dancing, but you have the warm sunshine in your heart. This season, I bid farewell to the cold. Still looking for the love back in the same place.

Collect the broken words of the past, take a closer look at each flower, the nostalgia in the flowers is just a seasonal carnival, accomplishing the loneliness of too many people, the charm of lingering spring, the warmth of summer, the affection of autumn, the purity of winter, the song in my heart, can not sing graceful Acacia, years let feelings precipitate in the accompanying future.

The flowers bloom, people come and go, meet in the right season, and the beauty of holding hands returns in the dream. We sing to the wine in the world of mortals, the endless resonance of thousands of cups, the endless lingering of ten thousand songs. I saw the stars twinkling in the night, and I saw the moonlight spread in the night, occupying me bit by bit. This night, I sink in your world.

This encounter calls back my tenderness. Pull up long hair, pick a wisp of breeze, gather into a gentle forest elegance, sprinkle some ink, comb graceful thoughts at midnight, the wind, blow away the residual hair, this hanging green hair will be entangled. Sadness in the word, put the heart of dependence, heart, dark fragrance Yingying!

Is this spiritual practice? Or I am enjoying the fruit of spiritual practice in the previous life, after too many misses and regrets, I recall the past in the fleeting years, abandoning the beauty of the dream. In the dense infatuation place, hold my dream, I think this is everlasting companionship. Hand in hand in the mature season, happiness will quietly approach.

Who met, haggard my face, and whose meeting, but also my smile such as flowers. The lingering thoughts of the past will be gone forever, gently caressing each other's souls, Sansheng stone, the original record is only you and my future, but there is no reincarnation to go back.

Floating life is like a dream, such as hundreds of flowers are enchanting, and people are crazy about it. Put the watch into the eyes of the dream, then continue the flowers in the dream, I decided to give myself to you, give you my life. But I can never go back.

Text: blue Lover, original QQ:1557144919