Article Title: "perception of life" Issue Date: December 19, 2003 Source: Online colleges and universities of China: a secluded guest
Pain and happiness are varied. The unfortunateness of the world is also Wanong Ron, it is like the rainbow that traverses the horizon, and its color is also a thousand variable, sometimes the color is clear, sometimes integrated with interspersed, giving together into a single white light. However, why don't you love from the United States? Why is it sorrow from peace? However, just as the fruit of ethics is good, sadness is actually produced and joy. Whether the memory of happiness in the past is the pain of this chance, or today, the pain originated from the past, but it is an unhappy and extremely happy, but it is a roller-back book, page page real page empty ... (I always think Should come to the next white)
Life is just a bookless book, each page has a shadow memory, model mode vague, 朦 朦 朦 朦 莫 莫 莫, 忽 忽. Just like this from a seemingly virtual and unusual, there is a place in the territory of this dream. I entered the place where I didn't want to imagine the palace. I used that surprise and enthusiastically gaked around. What is it? One space allows me to consume my youth in Pens, and what kind of stop has come to the spring of my life, and I am more amazed is that the fantasy in the dream is in my survival. Essentials, even completely, I survive itself.
Why can't I think that I am at the beginning, when I walked into the house, even if I got the book, I saw the rare knowledge, enjoy the quiet and elegant, as I heard it. Pick up the shallow singing of the heart, along with the discourse, and penetrate into my heart. Perhaps there is no beautiful imagination in this book, there is no interest in the fun, there is no meal, only the second is not saying, and the delicate and abrupt, and it seems crazy and obviously inexplicable taste, but I still Tikiş sikiş Suddenly someone rushed on my shoulders, then heard that there was a seemingly sound, "Hey, friends, no words on your book". But I can still hear the bells surrounded by surrounding ...
two
I always like to write something in writing when I am deep, I like the sisteousness of the pen tip and paper contact. At that time, the thoughts surged from the pen are always a spring water that has never been stopped, showing the traces of time flowing through the water.
I am always habitually put different times, and I feel that I can see a place where I can see it. Whenever you have a leisure, you will look at the mistakes in memory, watch the fragment in the burst of memory in the word, still make me move. The vivid picture, the true time, the example, from now on my eyes.
Perhaps selfishness, always self-enhanced self-intoxication in a person, realizing the deep connotation behind the text. That can be a taste, a breath, a melody, and a mood that is mixed together. So the past scene has emerged from the new reproduction, and there is a feeling of immersive every time.
Sometimes always thinking, people's life should really leave something, at least memories. There is a naive, simple, childish. The confused in the youth, the mind of love, the excitement of the heartbeat, there is a charm of words that cannot be complained.
Everything that passes is like a real and beautiful dream. Looking at the memory in the memory, a old photo of Zhang Yellow, the true pinch in the hand, that is touched, that is difficult to describe any language, everything At this time, it looks so clumsy, lost the perfect expression ability. Whether you see the colorful smile in the black and white photo, there is a feeling of color performance. It is a single melody that is completely belonging to yourself. I never care for someone to understand or understand. Always feel that memories and dreams are always in the country of wind, everything is silent, evaporated. Only the rocks that are portrayed by the wind, still leave a trace of the sanguin in the sea.
The wind is coming, blowing on the gap of the rock, with melodious echo!
three
I remember that Xiaoshou sent a call in the night, but naive the echo of his own call as God's answer. Such a world that can answer people, actually a God. Now, the world is silent, God is dead.
When calling for the first time, I can't answer. When another creepy silent is silent, I found that I was abandoned and became an orphan abandoned by the world. I can only cry, and hope to hit the world's cold heart. However, the world is so unhappy, only the scream of crying is sent back to his ear. At this time, I understand that fate is unrestrained, calling for pure belonging, I should be silent with the world, and I will die together with God, but there is a voice telling me that in a sinking world, in a waterator Surveying, the greatness of the people.
A people who are eager for meanings, but encounter a meaningless world. So in chaos produced a tired emotion, but the tired of itself is a chaotic emotion.
When seeing the value of value, meaninglessness, therefore, lush, falling oligomeric, full of loss of loss, has been meaningful and meaningful, valuable and valuable exclusion. There is no place that can stand. I feel that I seem to be "extra people" in the world. So the tones on the palette becomes cold.
One more and then three calls, but this world is still stubborn. So, even the only sorrow is gradually cool, no longer call. This world is more than just a negative Han, because it is negative heart without exceeding the scope of understanding. This world is not understandable, it has no heart, it is just a pile of stones. I finally found that I have faced a wild world. What is worth surprising and movement for a wild world?
I understand that I am worthy of value and value, meaning and exile of meaningless world, cold-eyed attractions, together with their own experience in this world.
In fact, there is no truly "outsiders" in the world, and people's life will not be true.
four
Perhaps it is too calm recently, and all in a honesty. Perhaps it is too much, suppressing the feelings of the heart. Whenever I mention a pen, I always hover in a blank space, and I am not picking up.
Faced with the inner heart with the blank paper, all of all the evaporations are walked. In the fate of the destiny, I have been baptized without sharpness. Looking at my wreckage after the turmoil, is it lonely or sorrow? When you are in a ruthless storm, you are not a sharp edge, you are not a free body!
The person is always in a day, and when you see all all kinds of everything, see a war of life, see the winner of the race, the loser, and if you can have the sharpness of your life, let the stop The pulse of the beating is stirring up a thrilling myth.
When we are integrated into the sea in the sea, we will find that this world is very small, and what we see is very far away. After all, a person's life, ability, time is limited, and all the substances in this world are limited, and the created is limited, the resulting is more slightly. In the limited world, only desire is unlimited, just like a replacement in spring and summer, always in unlimited expansion, expansion. When the desire exceeds the limit of social and individual's ability to withstand, it will become a burden, only in the contrary, the so-called prestige will end, the object is extremely, it is this truth.
