"The flowers are similar every year, but the people are different every year. This year the flowers fall and the color changes, but who will be there next year when the flowers bloom again?"
"On this day last year, in this door, the human face and the peach blossoms reflected each other's red color. I don't know where the human face went, but the peach blossoms still smiled in the spring breeze."
When I was young, when I looked back, I could see your beautiful silhouette when you lowered your eyebrows and wrote. Bamboo horse and green plum, as soon as I turn around, I can touch the warm hem of your clothes when you whisper and smile.
In the duplicitous youth, many confessions have become invalid letters.
It is said to be a neat note written casually for everyone. He said that he was accidentally selected for copying the sample and did not care. It's not by design that you happened to see my name.
On the positive side of time, the ignorance of young people has disappeared as they grow up. Behind the time, what cannot be said is the sentence "I like you".
Every time you close your eyes, you want to create the scene in your memories - a bicycle passing by on a road filled with fluttering maple leaves, and falling stars flashing on a rooftop with flying snowflakes. Every time you close your eyes, you want to create a scene that does not exist in your memory. These pictures, beautified and imaginary memory fragments, are like the patterns in the Wanhua Mirror, which eventually blur into some irregular geometric shapes without names.
The memories are unreal.
Memories are a mixture of wonderful stories passed down by word of mouth among friends, beautiful sentences in novels that cross our hearts, slow motion shots with soft light in movies, and a little throbbing of our pale youth.
And here, I will only tell you a little bit of the truth about those lush years like an ivory tower.
That time, noisy and agitating like wild cicadas in summer.
After the floating clouds parted, the water flowed for ten years.
The positive side of time is the memory buried deep in my heart. At the back of time, where are you?