Some memories were burned, and some memories were buried in the bottom of my heart. The age of innocence passed through the golden age like running water. Memories are the beauty of life. They symbolize the sweet streams in the life that are gone in a hurry, the quietness of always sleeping soundly, and the secrets in the heart; but at the same time, they are also the moments of angels and devils, the eyes of sea blue and darkness, and the faces that can be seen clearly when the light disappears.
Memories are like a tight string, trying to recall the past. If you don't pay attention, you will return to reality. The stories of Sui always start in the happiest tone on a sunny day, as if the storyteller really doesn't know how sad the ending will be. Memories fade piece by piece. The confused world of mortals, like the smoke of the past, is like the bleak autumn wind, holding up the leaves of memories.
Some feelings can only be found slowly through memory. The memories are crowded, but there are no passers-by. Silk threads are wrapped around us. This end and that end are infinitely entangled with the world. The tombstones of memories record vivid faces, and there are hands holding us before everything begins. My blood is like my death. Yesterday always belongs to the past. Regardless of success or failure, the past always belongs to death. Yesterday is like a falling meteor across the sky, with no time to greet you. Yesterday is like a dandelion flying all over the sky, showing its swagger.
Life is just a series of isolated moments in which meaning emerges, disappears, and reappears through memories and fantasies. The hourglass of time flows quietly bit by bit, and the traces of time are described in detail, stroke by stroke. And beautiful memories often bring me a lot of warmth and touch. After all, we are just passing by, passing by your beauty, passing by his indifference, passing by other people's cities and skies, leaving a mark in everyone's eyes, and that mark will eventually be worn away by the years. But it's great that you are gone, otherwise I would always be worried that you would leave.
Memories are the beauty of life. They symbolize the sweet streams in the life that are gone in a hurry, the quietness of always sleeping soundly, and the secrets in the heart; but at the same time, they are also the moments of angels and devils, the eyes of sea blue and darkness, and the faces that can be seen clearly when the light disappears. There was a time when we were smiling like flowers together. There was a time when we shed tears for a person.
Those laughter and tears often appear in my memories. But I can't remember when we started to smile without words. I don't know when we started to become the most familiar strangers. I often miss those happy days, and then burst into tears. Those innocent days of youth are fading away, and you can see yourself with the back getting longer and longer. That is the time and mood that are far away.
Purpose: Inspiring stories