A person, away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world, faded camouflage smile, really quiet down only to see the real you, want to learn all the troubles and sorrow, and sometimes have to go to get care less, then no one will have to see Some care much.
On earth, there is always the scenery never enjoyed, some people did not always meet by chance. Mo dust road, those fleeting feelings nowhere deposit, in inexplicable throbbing slowly tick by, dressed down in your prime skirt, and rub it into the sky in delight, with the distance it falls on Huachi lotus, Painting fine dance, aqua waves, imagined such a scene, capturing a handful of lotus lotus seeds, walking trail in between the pool and listen to the frogs and enjoy the full moon color, buried in the glow of time leisurely style, made to accompany the night-outs, it is difficult to say pleasant scenery. Under the shadow solitude Qiong Qiong Jie was eventually soften, which slid into extreme circumstances, and slowly fermented. Carrying a miss, prime pen by the years, but it reverberates eyebrows become desolate, Song Yin a tie, and the number of indifferent paper promises.
Unable to retain the years between, is helpless suffering, when you want to hold, they are found untouched, it has already turned into a fingertip flow through the vicissitudes of life, buried memories of the hall.
In this world, no one who is always singing a romantic, Yin a tie years of quiet good, fireworks, fleeting, Red, vicissitudes, in case of shallow, lightly forget.
Can wanton chic living, must bear the lonely, hurt, thanks so alone time, I had forgotten the War.
一個(gè)人，遠(yuǎn)離了外界的喧囂，褪去了偽裝的笑容，真正安靜下來(lái)才看到了真實(shí)的自己，學(xué)會(huì)希望所有的煩惱和悲傷，有時(shí)候得去在乎得少一些，那么才能看到有沒(méi)有人會(huì)在乎得多一些。
塵世間，總有些風(fēng)景不曾駐足欣賞，總有些人不曾偶然相見(jiàn)。陌上塵路，流年里那些無(wú)處寄放的情愫，在莫名的悸動(dòng)下被慢慢勾出，落于你的一襲素裙，又揉進(jìn)了滿天的情致里，隨它落在遠(yuǎn)方的華池蓮葉上，娉婷細(xì)舞，水色蕩漾，幻想著這樣的場(chǎng)景，擷取一捧藕蓮子，漫步于池間小道，聽(tīng)聽(tīng)蛙聲，賞賞月色，埋藏在時(shí)之霞光下的悠然格調(diào)，作了夜的陪奏，那是難以言說(shuō)的愜意風(fēng)景。煢煢孑影下的寂寥終被柔化，滑進(jìn)這極致的光景中，慢慢發(fā)酵。攜著一份思念，素筆經(jīng)年間，卻宛轉(zhuǎn)成了眉間的蕭索，吟一闋宋詞，又淡然了多少紙上的諾言。
歲月間留不住的，是無(wú)奈的苦楚，想要握住時(shí)，卻已發(fā)現(xiàn)觸不可及，它早已化作指尖流過(guò)的滄桑，埋進(jìn)了記憶的殿堂。
這個(gè)世界上，誰(shuí)也不是誰(shuí)的永遠(yuǎn)，唱一曲風(fēng)花雪月，吟一闋歲月靜好，煙火、流年、紅塵、滄桑，淺淺遇，淡淡忘。
能夠?yàn)t灑恣意的活，必然背負(fù)孤獨(dú)寂寞的傷，感謝這樣獨(dú)處的時(shí)光，讓我忘記了曾經(jīng)的殤。
On earth, there is always the scenery never enjoyed, some people did not always meet by chance. Mo dust road, those fleeting feelings nowhere deposit, in inexplicable throbbing slowly tick by, dressed down in your prime skirt, and rub it into the sky in delight, with the distance it falls on Huachi lotus, Painting fine dance, aqua waves, imagined such a scene, capturing a handful of lotus lotus seeds, walking trail in between the pool and listen to the frogs and enjoy the full moon color, buried in the glow of time leisurely style, made to accompany the night-outs, it is difficult to say pleasant scenery. Under the shadow solitude Qiong Qiong Jie was eventually soften, which slid into extreme circumstances, and slowly fermented. Carrying a miss, prime pen by the years, but it reverberates eyebrows become desolate, Song Yin a tie, and the number of indifferent paper promises.
Unable to retain the years between, is helpless suffering, when you want to hold, they are found untouched, it has already turned into a fingertip flow through the vicissitudes of life, buried memories of the hall.
In this world, no one who is always singing a romantic, Yin a tie years of quiet good, fireworks, fleeting, Red, vicissitudes, in case of shallow, lightly forget.
Can wanton chic living, must bear the lonely, hurt, thanks so alone time, I had forgotten the War.
一個(gè)人，遠(yuǎn)離了外界的喧囂，褪去了偽裝的笑容，真正安靜下來(lái)才看到了真實(shí)的自己，學(xué)會(huì)希望所有的煩惱和悲傷，有時(shí)候得去在乎得少一些，那么才能看到有沒(méi)有人會(huì)在乎得多一些。
塵世間，總有些風(fēng)景不曾駐足欣賞，總有些人不曾偶然相見(jiàn)。陌上塵路，流年里那些無(wú)處寄放的情愫，在莫名的悸動(dòng)下被慢慢勾出，落于你的一襲素裙，又揉進(jìn)了滿天的情致里，隨它落在遠(yuǎn)方的華池蓮葉上，娉婷細(xì)舞，水色蕩漾，幻想著這樣的場(chǎng)景，擷取一捧藕蓮子，漫步于池間小道，聽(tīng)聽(tīng)蛙聲，賞賞月色，埋藏在時(shí)之霞光下的悠然格調(diào)，作了夜的陪奏，那是難以言說(shuō)的愜意風(fēng)景。煢煢孑影下的寂寥終被柔化，滑進(jìn)這極致的光景中，慢慢發(fā)酵。攜著一份思念，素筆經(jīng)年間，卻宛轉(zhuǎn)成了眉間的蕭索，吟一闋宋詞，又淡然了多少紙上的諾言。
歲月間留不住的，是無(wú)奈的苦楚，想要握住時(shí)，卻已發(fā)現(xiàn)觸不可及，它早已化作指尖流過(guò)的滄桑，埋進(jìn)了記憶的殿堂。
這個(gè)世界上，誰(shuí)也不是誰(shuí)的永遠(yuǎn)，唱一曲風(fēng)花雪月，吟一闋歲月靜好，煙火、流年、紅塵、滄桑，淺淺遇，淡淡忘。
能夠?yàn)t灑恣意的活，必然背負(fù)孤獨(dú)寂寞的傷，感謝這樣獨(dú)處的時(shí)光，讓我忘記了曾經(jīng)的殤。