Turning heart, no intention of the pale life, and life is a paragraph of far away...
Looking back on the road through the wind and rain, it does not seem to leave any trace of their own life on the road of youth, can not help but arises spontaneously how many troubles of youth.
The anguish of youth and helplessness seems only oneself can go to it slowly dispelled, no one can help you, you are not understood, often in the silent night sky alone laments the helplessness of life, the world of the sordid. Classmates, friends, relatives, even parents, they only believe that seeing is believing, they only covet the results, eager to predict your glorious future now, but the future of reality, each of us have no grasp.
Not all flowers bear fruit, not all trees grow into trees, not all fields grow roses, and not all roads have branches... The wind blows gently, blowing me from one intersection to another, sometimes in life we are really fragile, we often have no choice, in the mouth of others in a close to a fixed universe, the lack of control over their own destiny. An aging tree is like a long-lost soul, and the world has no color in their eyes. Those are noisy and numerous already cannot cause their side eye, the color that leaves a few sky only in their eye, very pure but also too too pale, after all youth needs colour to dress up. My life may be these untamed trees, willful growth, light dust, warm sunshine, like clouds floating.
It seems that no one in the soul will remember you, as a tree, is not necessary to remember these, but the soil remembers all this, life recorded all this, I still want to sincerely thank them. Everything a tree once carried, the soil has carried, unless it dies, the soil will be its last smile, right? Who also do not know how long their life, who also do not know the tree will eventually grow into what look like, may not be able to eventually, may eventually only leave a residual leaf, a handful of loess, but the rings remember, years engraved, every moment of growth, we have had no choice and silence.
Think of the past...
When I was a child, in order to eat the fruit from the tree, I always climbed to the top of the tree before it was ripe. I couldn‘t wait to pick the green fruit and taste the subtle bitterness together with my green self. Think of childhood when those beautiful little happiness, there will always be a touch of sadness. The trees that once gave me warmth and desire have long since been cut down, burned to ashes, and drifted to the fairytale paradise beyond my reach... Think of their own a period of youth, once was so helpless stranded, the hot dream was brutally suppressed, forever buried in the bottom of my heart, sometimes think: maybe one day life will disappear like a tree. Many years later, whether we will like childhood, eat the fruit of those green, remember those innocent years, will be alone a little bit of smile, and the time behind us, as old as smoke, blink of an eye butterfly, then left really just see the mountains of years. But I am unwilling, I am always eager to create their own life in the halo.
We can’t control the growth of trees or know the length of our lives, but we can at least keep our hearts from going wild. Lonely, sitting under the tree, feel the tree jumping growth and life free, feel the tree happy and sad, feel the inner peace and ups and downs. “I moved willows this year and relied on Hannan. Now see shake down, sad jiangtan. Trees like this, how can people. ”From the green leaves to the leaves, the ups and downs of life, in an instant in contrast, the tree‘s life is not a person’s life? We grow like trees, and eventually we fall like trees on the ground. Life is a gradual process. Sunrise and sunset, just a turn around, a look back.
Under the trees, peace and quiet reigned. The earth, sometimes seems larger than the sky; The heart is farther than the sky. People always want to let their life vitality can catch up with the growth of a tree, and try their best to use life to catch up, in the end, can grasp, very few. The sun, which had been full of light, seemed to be only a slight meter away. But the fear of only one meter of sunshine, is enough to fill the heart of the damp. We gradually read a tree in time, but how also do not understand their own, read do not understand people themselves. Man is a contradictory and complex combination, who can really go out of their own limitations, but ultimately difficult to go out of their own destiny.
We only hope that our lives can be like the sun at the water‘s edge, with warm ripples; Can be like a vigorous pine and cypress, hold back some gradually cold wind; Can be like fireflies in the night, lighting up their own way...
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