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Everything in the world has feelings, it's just that the way it is conveyed is different.
——Inscription.
Sitting quietly in front of the window, looking out the window in trance. Outside the window was a vast expanse of white, and everything was covered with a snow-colored gauze. The gauze danced up and down scatteredly, disturbing the sight. It seemed that the layer
The gauze covers the eyes, making them hazy and shadowy, making it difficult to see clearly and clearly. It feels like there is everything there, but also like there is nothing. I can't help but want to lift the veil and satisfy the desire.
With a curious heart, I stood up and walked outside.
Stopping at the door and looking from a distance, the sky and the earth are all white, seamlessly connected, and you can't see the edge at a glance. It's so white that it's monotonous and without any new ideas. Only a few small wooden houses in the distance add to this white paper.
A few different colors. I walked forward slowly, stepping on the soft snow and rubbing against the ground, making a "squeak" sound. In this cold silence
It conveys the slightest hint of loneliness. Walking in a white world, there is no designated direction, because everywhere you go there is only white, just like a white scroll with nothing written on it, there is no end, and there is no end. My thoughts are just
Like this white scroll, there is a blank, just simply follow your heart, move with your emotions, let everything take its course, carefree and unrestrained.
After looking at the monotonous snow scene for a long time, my eyes inevitably felt a little sore, so I lowered my head and silently counted my steps. The cold wind blew by, and I couldn't help but shrink my neck. My eyes followed my toes up and down numbly, but my thoughts had already been
Let go, drifting far, far away with the biting cold wind. Occasionally, there are a few sounds behind you.
, subconsciously turned his head, but found that there was nothing, it was still a single white color. He only saw a series of deep and shallow footprints embedded in the snow-white ground, spreading from the horizon to the feet, and it suddenly dawned on him: he had walked so far.
Ah. Looking back, I realized that I had just forgotten what I had just thought about and how far I had counted my steps.
As I walked, a few bright reds suddenly appeared in my field of vision, which caught me off guard. I rubbed my eyes and looked carefully, only to realize that it was actually a plum tree. There were dots of red plums blooming on the bare branches. If you ignore it,
With those few touches of red, no one would have thought that there would be a plum tree standing in this wilderness, right? A single branch.
Beautiful, standing proudly in the wind, there are still some water drops from the melted snow on the bright red plum petals. The water drops are crystal clear and want to flow, making people tremble, making the plum blossoms even redder.
Beautiful, more and more delicate. Looking from a distance, it seems that a plum blossom picture has finally been painted on this white scroll that has not changed for thousands of years. It is really beautiful.
Some people say that plum blossoms are arrogant and only want to wait until all the flowers have withered before they bloom slowly and disdainfully. However, this kind of coldness and arrogance on her body not only does not look vulgar, but also adds a touch of beauty to the plum blossoms.
It seems extremely harmonious, as if this is a matter of course. Yes! Mei, she is arrogant, but she has the capital. What kind of flower in the world is willing to bloom in the frost and snow? But, Mei, she did it
, she is
She stretched her graceful figure in the biting cold wind, and she opened an optimistic smile to the cold frost. It seemed that nothing could stop her firm love for winter. She never complained about her life in the cold winter of ice and snow.
Openness is just blooming your own beauty that has been brewing for three seasons without anyone else around. It doesn't matter whether others see it or not, as long as you know that you have lived up to the efforts of those three seasons, that's enough.
This Mei seems to be a fairy who has emerged from the world, with a kind of persistence and arrogance that is born in her bones. If others misunderstand her, she will not explain it, and she does not bother to explain it. When encountering difficulties, she never bows her head, and she also
They will not put down their dignity to ask others for help. They will only endure it silently. This kind of arrogance is not annoying, but is a kind of strong strength.
I admire her for her strong performance. I admire her for still driving so brightly and eye-catchingly even in the biting cold wind. And that kind of persistence that is almost stubborn makes me feel a little sad. I feel sorry for her that she still works hard even though she is bruised and bruised.
Smiling, trying to show the most beautiful side of herself to the world, even though I know she doesn't need mercy...
It's early spring, and I'm walking here just like last time, but the difference is that I have an extra book in my hand, and I'm no longer walking in the snow, because the white snow has melted, and the snow water is mixed with the bright red plum blossoms on the ground.
A petal, a pool of blood, a coquettish Manzhushahua. A ray of sunshine poured down through the cracks in the branches, and sprinkled on the cold snow water.
There are tiny mottled pieces with a soft halo. Although there is a hint of warmth, it is undoubtedly a drop in the bucket and cannot warm the water melted by the coldest things. "Frost leaves are as red as February flowers", I know this
It is impossible, the plum blossom will eventually wither, she will wither like the flowers in the world, there is no way to escape the clutches of fate. Ming
Ming knew in his heart that this was the normal state of the world. This was the reincarnation of life. It was unavoidable and no one could stop it. But why, there was still a flash of sadness in my heart. Although it was only a short moment, I
I still feel it, I know, I can't bear to let her go like this...I can't bear to...
"Plop", a crisp sound of collision of objects disturbed my thoughts. When I came back to my senses, I felt a coldness on my face. I touched my cheek, and there were incomplete tear marks on it, indicating what had just happened. It turned out that
I'm so sentimental! I sighed and couldn't help but laugh at myself, with a bitter curve at the corner of my mouth.
I lowered my head, and the book in my hand opened at some point. There was only a poem written by Gong Zizhen on the page: "Falling red is not a heartless thing, it turns into spring mud to protect the flowers." At this time, a piece of plum fell down.