Along with the Years

Sumire, I saw a sentence today, "If I have love, I am the icing on the cake. If not, I am also a piece of cake." Brocade. Then I thought of Sumire. In fact, I like to call you Jinse. When I saw the last word, the third sound was loud and clear. It seems to be wrapped around the tip of the tongue. I thought of you and found your column. In fact, I don't play online very often. When I was looking for message boards, I looked for them for a long time. I found it, and I just wanted to say something. Pansy. May you be well.

I like Jian Yu and many of her words. She said: "If you want to sing at midnight, what can be more heartwarming than sighing? If you want to get drunk at midnight, what can be more relieving than the water of the Forgotten River?" She said: "The longer I know you, the more I feel that you are a pleasant place in my life. I want to forget you several times, but we always meet again quietly at the end of the mountain and the river. It is a kind of reluctance to let go." She said: "Let us tell the vicissitudes of half a life with a night of bitter tea. We are a group of people who are persistent and have no regrets, and we take drifting as our destination. In your young and weak life, I recorded this volume of scriptures about interrogating the teeth. I hope that one day you can explain it to me." Her words are sentences engraved in my heart. I'm happy to know that you also like it, and I want to share it with you.

Author I like you (*/ω\*)

When I saw the beginning, I thought it was a short story. After reading it, I can't believe it, and I don't want to believe it. Search for Nankang's name in Jinjiang and you won't find it. I was so happy that I thought it wasn't true. Then I searched on Baidu and immediately saw Kangkang's column... Serialized, last updated in May 2005 Tears suddenly fell out. How do you make me believe that this reality...

In fact, this was the first one I read after I came here, and I finished reading the novel in one package. Ratings will be added later. This article is said to be an essay, and it feels like reading a blog. And it seems that he has seen his past ten years and his youth that has ended. At that time, I was also a rock boy, mainly listening to heavy music such as Marilyn Manson. I have no idea about visual kei at all. One day I randomly picked up a CD in a video store. On the cover was a man with profound facial features, which did not look like an Asian. The title and lyrics of the song were also in English. He was lying in the middle of the road with roses scattered around him. Later I found out that this person with a strong aura of death was Yoshiki, the leader of Xjapan. It was this album that made me realize for the first time that drums and piano can be combined, and rock and roll can make me cry. God knows how much I love this band, yoshiki, hide, taiji, toshi, pata. I even picked up the piano just to play the occasional music score. But after falling in love, I realized that Taiji had been exiled, hide was dead, What I fell in love with, what I have always loved, was the X where Taiji was. I'm sorry to say this, Heath, but I can't even remember his face. Maybe I'm subconsciously rejecting that change. I collected all the photos, information and music scores of X that I could find, and bought all the CDVDs and magazines, including the memoir that Taiji later wrote. I also learned piano and Japanese and recorded my own demos. When I was young and frivolous, I thought about going to Japan to visit hide's grave... But I finally learned to give up slowly. Slowly, this band that I loved and fell apart was no longer the center of my life. Many years have passed, and I have lived in Japan for other reasons, but I no longer listen to visual rock songs, nor have I visited graves... One day last winter, I saw X's resurrection live posters plastered all over Shinjuku Station. I just hurriedly avoided my eyes and ran away... Because I knew that this was no longer my X, nor was it my youth...

I've read this too... But it's been a long, long time, so long that I've forgotten a lot of it.

I was listening to Lisa Ono's "fly me to the moon" while watching "Waiting for You When You Turn Thirty-Five" I couldn't accept it in my heart, couldn't let it go, and almost hated me for not being at the riverside at that time, grabbing him by the corner of his clothes. Maybe he could wait until he was thirty-five, and maybe he would meet a better person, and maybe he could let go of the past. Looking through the diary, I was struggling with boring people and boring things that day, and I had no idea that he was gone. Maybe this is what people call fate. How many people are unaware of it and are immersed in their own trivial matters. So in the end, no one passed by him that day, and no one retained his determination. No one had time, just in time, just in time, to save him I have been suppressing and enduring, trying hard to pretend as if nothing happened, my mood is always gloomy, it has become a habit, I can no longer cry loudly, but the tears keep pouring out, I am choked and breathless, and I say to him: "I feel so uncomfortable." ---- Nankang I hate my own insignificance and powerlessness. If I were his mother or sister, or I could comfort him, there would be something better. But after all, I am not, I am not a savior, and I cannot save anyone; I am not the mother or sister of any Nankang person, patting his back to watch him sleep and make him strong; I am not the leader of the Party Central Committee, who issued an order saying that tomorrow all gays in China can get married, enjoy all legal rights, and have a bowl of water. From now on, there will be no difference. In the end, I was nothing. I could only find out two years and three months later that he was dead at that time. The young life of twenty-eight years old and the turbid river water were extremely ironic. I don't know what the rules are for reprinting a deceased person's article. Who should authorize it, his parents or him? Anyway, it can't be the swollen corpse. That's not Nankang. It can't be him. The last journey to Nankang, fifteen days and more than 800 kilometers And when will this road come to an end?

I really like romance, well, I decided to go see Mu Yunshen

At that time, I saw a sentence saying that no authorization is needed to reprint his articles. His articles about Jinjiang have always been serialized. Suddenly stopped. Nothing can be said.

Sumire, I am so lucky to be able to read your words. As for myself, I have no intention of being the most transparent among the crowd, but I do want to strengthen my heart and clear myself from time to time. Don't ask for guesses and calculations, make wise decisions, but ask for a clear conscience, regardless of gains and losses.