A classical philosopher once said: There are two things in the world that can deeply shock people's hearts. One is the lofty moral principles in our hearts, and the other is the brilliant starry sky above our heads. The starry sky is always related to
Accompanied by the dark blue dome, the light and fire that occasionally passed through the world turned into wisps of lonely souls who could never forget their dreams. In the silvery light of the moon, how many people were sinking wantonly.
The owner of the Dark Elf Hotel is sitting in the patio, with the tea pet in front of him steaming white, and the fragrant tea in the cup is slowly unwinding. The girl on the night shift is playing with the staff in boredom, and several travelers who have returned late smell of alcohol.
, and slowly closed the door. The night was as quiet as orchid. The hotel owner looked at the time, then stood up and left, with a pink postcard between his fingers...
She is an ordinary person, living an ordinary life alone in a simple world. One night a few days ago, she came to the Dark Elf Hotel alone. Silence is her label, and her face is expressionless.
Characteristics. Her trip has no purpose, she just wants to see places that she has wanted to go but was reluctant to go, and see if she can forget some people after traveling like what is said in the book.
In this world, there are too many people who understand the romance, but not many people can truly get out of that period of vicissitudes of life. Just like the small circles we established at the beginning, from the initial chatter and free speech, to the deserted one day, there is no one.
The voice disappeared. The best friend who was once a brother and sister, a companion who talked about everything, gradually stopped talking after a period of time. That awkward but polite smile was really hard to swallow.
The white one is the straight line of happiness, because we miss each other, so we meet; the black one is the tears of missing, because we are ignorant, so we sink; the yellow one is the initial greenness, because it is profound, so it is thorough; the red one is the depth in the heart, because of happiness,
It was so hot. She stood in the patio, looking up at the starry sky, her knuckles were clenched until they turned blue.
The corners of the eyes are proud gold, only because of someone, they are pretentious; the eyebrows are mysterious purple, only because of someone, they are unruly; the fingertips are passionate colors, only because of someone, they are full of love;
Her beady lips were a gentle pink color, and she was only in love with someone because of someone. She looked at the pictures of the two of them, the last one was only dozens of days ago, and the things that were once cherished looked so sad now. The corners of her eyes gradually became moist, and memories seemed to hide in the shadows, becoming blurry. The strong tea in her hand lost its aroma, leaving only a hot bitterness; the painted roses faded away, leaving only a funny look.
Body. On the fifteenth day after the breakup, the most painful thing is no longer the separation, but the difficulty of letting go after the separation.
How many people like someone, but in the end they keep a thousand words rotten in their stomachs and never talk about it again; how many people fall in love but seem to be separated and are trapped in the same place forever; how many people promise to turn around and leave gracefully, but
When she looked back, her eyes met, but there was still love; how many people had witnessed one love story after another, but not their ordinary wedding. Sitting in the carriage, she looked at the morning light outside the window, and there was something hidden in the coldness.
Full of energy.
The bard chants the love song that has long since faded in the street, like the residual wine after last night's carnival, still a little drunk.
We always think that we are the protagonists of this human comedy, but after we have performed for many years, we find that we may not even be considered an extra. At best, we are just the words "many years ago" from the announcer's mouth between scenes.
A part of it. Just like no one cares about the melancholy between her eyebrows, just like some people break into our lives just to preach, not to care.
After buying the ticket, she sat quietly in the cabin. The arrogant magician and the swearing warrior complement each other, the polite and stiff professional smile and the humble and busy calloused hands are busy.
The sadness of separation and the joy of reunion are intertwined, and the excitement and the feeling of loss are integrated. The half bottle of herbal tea in your hand will eventually be drank or discarded, just like the ending of many things has been predetermined, the difference lies only in the twists and turns of the process.
It’s just a degree.
Putting on the earplugs, the whole world suddenly became quiet. She didn't like to talk, and she hated being disturbed. She didn't care about the final destination, let alone the hypocrisy of the sailors. When all the lingering feelings turned into clouds, they dissipated.
Dissipate, when the silent tears fall on the coat, absorbed and reabsorbed, is this melancholy love or sigh?
Ancient buildings are wrapped in colorful shells, carriages with exquisite embroidery patterns shuttle on the stone road, plants hanging on the tree house balconies are waving their branches, and the dark elves passing by can't hide their joy. Walking alone, ruts and gaps
There was a regular sound from the friction. Hiding under the hood were tired eyes, and the parchment roll in his hand had already been crumpled into a ball.
Half an hour later, she arrived near the trading venue in the Whispering Forest and stayed amidst the warm greetings of the innkeeper.
The night in the Whispering Forest is more passionate than the day. Hormones and cholesterol are the deadliest catalysts, but she is so out of place. The snapper salad and cornbread are quietly placed by the window sill, waiting for them to rot. Just like
Those that bloom, fly, and disappear have all become what they once were, and those that are disgusted, despised, and indifferent are all different flavors in life.
Our annual rings are full of memories, some are blurred by fingernails, some are corroded and moldy by sweat beads, and some are soaked into rotten wood by tears. But no matter what, they cannot be erased. They will be like
They are entangled in every story like thorns, making the dark and boring past become bright and colorful.
The goblin wind leaves are whistling, and mosquitoes are about to stir outside the tent. Real life is very realistic, and the scenes of staying up all night will only appear in novels. I don’t know when snoring sounded in the room, and the loved one suddenly disappeared. For many days
Her energy was exhausted and she was tired from traveling, all of which made her exhausted.
A few days later, she left here quietly, as if she had never been here. The rented carriage was like a dying old man, squirming sickly on the stone road, and the sound of acceleration was like eating expired black bread.
"Moist", the force used to pull the reins can shape the most perfect muscles, and even the air passing by is mixed with the smell of decay. Although she is getting thinner at this time, there is a smear on the corner of her mouth.
A slight smile.
The sea breeze blew her face, like a pair of weak hands caressing her; the blue sea water wetted her feet, washing away the stickiness along the way; the taste of the sun was pure and direct, warming her broken heart; the occasional passing crab waved
The pair of pliers seem to be driving away strange intruders.
The moon poked its head out from the horizon, and the dark blue water was still crystal clear. Those past events that we can't let go of may be because we are too stubborn and unwilling to change, or maybe we are used to habits that we shouldn't be used to, but the wounds always remain.
It will heal slowly, and one day these will all be a thing of the past.
She pulled out a postcard from her backpack, and after thinking for a long time, she simply drew a smiling face. She stood up, patted the sand on her robe, and drove off into the distance amidst a burst of harsh noises.
Half a million gallons of water, 40 kilograms of weight, a few hours of travel, a willful woman, and a memory of leaving without saying goodbye.
The waves of the rocky sea are always turbulent, the sky on the postcard is always green and blue, and the sea water is always crystal clear. The air of the Whispering Forest seems to always be filled with the sweetness of loneliness. Goodbye, never see you again, never see you again. p>