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2004565 2010 年 03 月 30 日 04:50 Reading (loading. ..) Comments (0) Category: Emotional World
for the first time to listen to this song was at a radio show in the. The dead of night, a moon hanging in the Sky quietly, pouring water. Weeds would like soaring lonely, deserted the heart. I'm bored, readily turn on the radio host was telling a young back, this song will be used as background music, like the flowing, murmuring to flow. At that moment, utterly still. I heard my heart quivering voice, eyes like a big sunflower large petals flowers, blooming quietly, deeply fascinated me in the night. I suddenly want to cry, as if their long-lost friend, suddenly, they encounter a. Feeling, life memorable. Years later, still in a quiet night,
pink dazzle flat iron, listening to the tunes again, miss the familiar feeling, quietly releasing the sadness.
flow to the years, gradually slipped away. And I still can not let go, my heart was dim in the search for a permanent presence. So this first ear always sounded slightly familiar tunes. With a little, a touch of blurred. Indescribable sadness my heart will slowly be released. Slowly come to understand, why then it tunes into the bottom of my heart will always be flowing. This is the tone of the original youth, some sad, some good. Open in the sun as the lonely, sunflower.
youth, is a beautiful sadness. So then can not afford to smile too small to cover four corners of brow of grief. I'm not him, you can devour without any fear of their own youth, youthful bloom into a pen can be the most beautiful flowers. I can do is in their own world, with their extraordinary ordinariness, his own strong strong. - Never understood why people always want to keep losing to practice growth? This round after round of what means should the bright sadness to fill? Passage of time, clear cloud. Is nothing more than, and no rain and no sunshine. Only memories of lost in the wind, stuck in the memory of pain, but always lurking in the shadows, the slightest touch, will be clear as ever.
So I understand that growth comes at a price, I do not say anything, I assume.
- -
now, and once again this song, the habit of always looking at the sky, is to not let his eyes the tears fall.