The sun is like a dream, quietly falling into my ordinary trivial life, in this spring afternoon. I am sitting on the balcony and holding a "Walden Lake" in Hato. How many years, every time I read it, I will smell the greenness of the wood, and the lake water wave light is calm and wet fresh water. I feel very distant and happy, can breathe freely in a book. Many things have passed in the past, and it is impossible to reproduce. Only music and literature, suitable for waiting, look at, meditation.
It has always thought that Sroulo is still alive, he lives in a place, far from my residence, and I feel close to me. Loving his text, just like my yearning for life, never disappear. Sunshine penetrates the glass of the glass, making me feel warm. If you can't hold it, you can't hold it. How important this is, behind my surface life, I realized that I have rich emotions, and these emotions have been living in my heart.
Thorel's text is a clean and quiet snow, you can cool the soul. I can hear the natural songs from pure life ---- "There was a shepherd to live in the world, and his thoughts have a high mountain, where his flock, it gives him nutrition every hour." That is with me The time and old dreams of the lost arms are full of cherishment. Think of Charlotte, Mont Blanter, Austrian Austrian era, from the castle to the manor, the carriage's 轱轱 slowly, the vibries in the comfort of the sun in the comfort, summer is full of wild rose , Autumn is famous in Hawthorn and BlackBerry, winter is the most pleasing look of complete silence and no lionic peace. It can be slow, calm. It can be written in a morning time to write a short letter, overlooking the pasture on the rustic lawn and the holly on the pasture on the pasture. Sitting in the fire in the fire, sitting in the fire, avoiding the eyes, reading or weaving the grandmother. Since working hard, there is a sudden footsteps of the carrier, rushing to open the cold night brings the echo of warm restraint. I clogably "Walden Lake", from the balcony to look forward to the distance. In the afternoon of this spring, there is no difference in the past, and the wide street is still a woven, and the car is dragon. Many times I tried to stand in a high place, surpassing my own limited my best, trying to perspective through the prosperous city, perspective what is the heart of the lively core.
The urgency and anxiety of survival brings a face of a hurry. I don't know if the face is in the body. In addition to the madness of fame and fortune, I still have a little more time to salvage the valuable things. Do you still stay A little space can warmly resist or dilute.
The world is noisy. People have a wide range of interpersonal relationships, but lack deep emotional communication. People look for confidants on the virtual Internet, in order to be almost unsatisfactory, but not how the endings. The heart is more and more tired, and the emotions are getting colder and flexible.
My friendship of the excessive enthusiasm in the actual life has always been skeptical about the reliability of virtual world passion. At night, when everything is quiet, I said to myself: Write, no matter what you write. The text is the classical music of the soul, and it is the Qingquan on the asphalt road. In order not to lose it, wait and miss in your own way. People who like to read, can also see what people have thought about from my words, just this.
