Time is a story, life is a passer-by

Worldly strangers, the sun and moon two lights, Qingyun a few rain, halo dyed with bustling, but also left blank quiet, engraved with the past large and small, clear and vague all figures. Floating world, a dream of spring and autumn, flowers and plants, the interpretation of heavy traffic, but also the interpretation of loneliness, retaining all traces of ups and downs.

Time is a continuous story, life is a wave of passers-by. The story of a period of time is written by a fresh and beautiful life, the story is interesting and long, high tide repeatedly, never tired of reading, dense in the ends of the earth, scattered in the time and space tunnel of history; each life is rendered by a period of poetic years, life is rich and soft, bright and exquisite, never bored, stunning in the north, sky and south of the journey, engraved in the eternal memory of the soul.

Often, the story is fresh and fragrant because of the pen and ink color of life, and will never change its original intention because of the feelings of the years; life is wonderful because of the impermanence and twists and turns of the story, and will never lose its original heart because of the haste of passers-by. Often, most of the stories are lingering and affectionate, gently toying with the heartstrings of life, singing for a love, composing poems for a heart, sleeping drunkenly for a scene, infatuated with a person; most of life's soft fragrance, will deeply dedicate the compassion of the soul, stop for a cloud, stop for a flower, marvel for a drop of rain, and be moved by a smile. Years and life are in fact an endless cycle of creation, and the affectionate collocation of fate. Although the years are not old, life is short, but in the days of meeting, they are closely interdependent and closely complement each other, and the story is the life in the years. Life is a string of stories in the passers-by. The years are not old, the story has no ending, but life is in a hurry to grow old, and passers-by have their own destinations. Strangers, travelers on the way, love in the year, a story in life, a period of time.

But sometimes, mountains and water do not always depend on each other affectionately, and the sun and the moon do not always cling to watch. Some years were stranded on the other shore before they had time to cover the heat, and some stories were written yesterday before they really started. Some people were expelled into passers-by before they got into their hearts, and some of them were scattered by fireworks before they could get to know each other. Such as the beautiful family of flowers, can not stop the passage of time, cloud water Sanskrit sound, can not resist the hustle and bustle of the world. Reading and appreciation of American articles

In fact, every story is not illusory, every life is not lonely. Every journey of life, no matter the beginning or the end, is accompanied by mountains and rivers, accompanied by wind and clouds, meet a cozy and comfortable fate, and place a new and beautiful scenery; every story of the years, whether insipid or wonderful, has warm hugs, warm kisses, chanting a dialogue of worries, and humming the delivery of a love song. Whether you are heartless or heartless, sincere or false, every day is intentionally or unintentionally writing true and pure stories of the years; whether you are lonely or lively, urgent or slow, every step is unwittingly rushing to the original destination of life. And this may be precisely the reason why the story continues for a long time, the reason that life lasts for a long time, and the driving force for life to go to life and practice.

May we all put a heart in the ordinary place, wait for a life in the insipid place, show a smile in the eyebrows, hide a love in the soul, and depict every story of the deep love for life. Each section of life will render a continuous attachment to the years, so that the years are quiet and serene, so that the story is colorful, let life warm and soft, let the world brilliant.