Like occasionally in the sky only a bird, or in the clouds is faint shadows, or the sky overhead bold with wings; for this mysterious fluctuation, temporary called love.
In a large space inside, a great, aloft when there is wind, the air, this is to get the feel of the.
More misty point, bus pass by village of paddy fields, see the layers of yellow green hue, suddenly feel the charm of color, feel suddenly is a legend in the so-called ‘artist’; and the summer when, one day I stand I live in a small town, 30 story building no obscuration, eyeful only city layer upon layer of well-proportioned house, and the distant horizon blue sky, white clouds crisp powder. I see, in this world, in fact, is rich and colorful.
I find I can think of all the colors.
Blue roof, the roof of the roof of orange, yellow, red roofs, white roof, many colors exist everywhere, dotted with, filled with colorful; red mud, green trees, blue sky, and the sun is going down, the roof of the city began to become sparkled.
I love nature and all the beautiful things. I like it.
I said, all things, all kinds of people full of our life; sometimes a touch of bright eyes, gave me a temporary stop, but good things in the world are.
Remember high school or junior high school thought political lesson, within the book tells a story between Socrates and his apprentice, probably through a field of wheat only pick one pick yourself think wheat out best cluster, and through the woods to fold the best tree branches, and through the garden to pick from think the most beautiful flowers; these things should not go into details, the truths all understand, grasp the chance, young; don’t be nervous, life is beautiful. I always think so, life is beautiful, the future is bright.
All my love I have. I like it.
Man, why there will be.
Read a book before, there are people said, the reason why we exist, because we itself; that is because we exist, so only for what we will have this problem; some abstruse, or one may be discussed, I am not an expert, but also not much to explain this thing.
I’m afraid that these two words. Because I actually very confused, what love is, what is love. So I also fear to touch it, experience it, had be rather baffling at the time of the so-called “love”, but I wanted to think, it is not love. What is love, how to contact him. Good is a place in people’s belief on the altar for people look forward to the “gods”, but people explain something more artistic or more elegant and more civilized words, the so-called love. I was looking forward to his appearance. Perhaps in a familiar street, listening to familiar songs, then a familiar figure touch your heart, that kind of love is perhaps the love.
Love. I also vaguely stubbornly believe that he exists, I look forward to.
A red bean to Acacia, three two wine to worry. While some feeling more like a paranoid to writing performance.
There are many kinds of emotion, can not be represented in language, will only display some weak and pale. My words, just one point of failure to sing a song.