In this world, eternity is just a thought and a comfort to one's own soul. Just as I believe you have always been there, as safe as before, it is the resilience of self-awareness. So, I am willing to quietly look at you, guard you, wait for those bygones, and remember and cherish them in my own way in silence. Although I know that when there is a silhouette in my eyes, it is when our fate is over, and all that remains is blessings, I also know that this memory will be permanent. It will come to an end when I have no memory left.
The most beautiful thing in life is meeting. It leaves us with beautiful scenery, enriches our thinking consciousness, enlivens our lazy lifestyle habits, and leaves us with unparalleled memories. The melodies, stories, and emotions are slowly intertwined against the backdrop of time. When typing on the keyboard, they are presented in warm lines, as if the scenes of meeting each other have been flipped over before our eyes. And at such times, I will naturally think of you and the little things between us.
Although I know that everything cannot be forced, and everything follows fate, I still cling to that kind of reluctant affection. Helpless eyes, tears that have fallen many times, prove the endless beauty and painful beauty brought by that strange encounter. Although struggling to awaken, I am also accustomed to various powerless variables, trying to use half a lifetime of exile to fade your gray distant shadow, but I can always feel a hint of hesitation emerging in my heart.
On countless nights of memory attack, guarding a pale white light, feeling the bone soaked cold, everything in the past is gloomy and disturbing, making it impossible for oneself to sleep peacefully. Holding the wheel of time like this, but unable to stop its rotation, its flight. Standing in front of time, I am as insignificant as dust, unable to withstand the cycle of time anymore. I gradually age, become decadent, and fall down, like these words that I have no place to place, slowly stranded at the crossroads of fate. Let me savor the profound sadness and desolation, related to love and love.
In my world, there is no goodbye, and if I leave, it's just that you haven't left me a reason. I will quietly leave in a moment when you have no time to react, only preserving a trace of dignity for the beauty of each other's past; Just for the other side, the long gone waiting, the bustling has gone, the lingering pain, across the ferry in the mortal world, banishes a tired heart to the lonely edge and walks alone, leaving only those faint beauty and broken strings of love. In the extremely cold and desolate night, standing quietly under the bright white moonlight, listening to those distant songs, embracing this biting chill alone, holding hands with loneliness, kissing the cold like water in the moonlight.
I think we have all been bewitched by words, the clear breeze and bright moon, the cold time, and the infatuation often occur in middle age and year after year. Whether it's loneliness or loneliness, we are guarding a pure land and building our spiritual home like this. Perhaps only words are our true confidants; Only with words can we spread our traces into various colorful colors.
Sadly smirked, looking out of the window