A piece of the starry sky, a book

The night is too deep, so deep that it is thick. Exhausted how much talent, can write this night without color. How much thought is needed to wield the brush like ink, so that the heart can be free to write the feelings of elegance, so that the sorrow of no threads, not to attract ties?

The night sky is full of stars as if they are holding a wordless event. The silence is the most authoritative, leaving it up to the person who wants to reveal the mystery to guess and find the answer he wants to know. Because only you can find the answer you want.

That is, and they, and this group of them, how like one lantern after another.

I not only once to guess, perhaps each star, is a brave heart chasing a dream. And perhaps it is guiding every lost person to find the way back to the heart. I guessed again and again whose light the stars are, lighting up his hope. Or, it is every feeling that cannot be expressed in words that shines so brightly in the night, and so blindingly, that even the night can not calm the panic.

Unfortunately, the starlight does not read me, I am just a loner under the starry sky.

Tasting loneliness, is it considered a person's elegance? I warmed up a smile, and the loneliness was at the same time looking at the shadow of pity. Because loneliness is not a thing that makes people happy. When I think of this, I want to cry again, but the loneliness does not make the pain intense.

A vague pain, but I can't find the source of the pain, a depression, but I can't find the source of the joy. A light, a night, a starry sky, a book.

Light, night, starry sky, book. These four are not related. Nor is there any necessary connection. With the addition of an I in the middle of them, the relationship can be as complicated as it wants to be, and as many connections as there are to be made. There is no relationship in the first place, and an extra I is added.

The sun goes down, the sky shifts, but not just the color of the sky, even everything around, all changes, into a uniform color, into the same color.

Black, but people have long been accustomed to calling it, night. The tired birds go home, the trees are invisible, the distant mountains are untraceable, and the moon drives the stars.

The moon shepherds the stars to the seasons as a song, people live for a living to live. The living must be life for life, any living method is on the life of the effort to bloom flowers. In the soil of life, living is a whimsy, because everyone is thinking of ways to live, abandoning the root of reality for the sake of dreams.

When I know the dream, I go after the dream, and when I chase the dream, I only find that the dream is getting farther and farther away. When I chase the dream, the dream is also far away. If I don't chase the dream, maybe it is right in front of me.

Because the end of the dream is reality. Want to pursue a kind of life, this is the dream. In the final analysis, it is the desire to change the current state of life through efforts to reach the level of life I want within a certain period. What is being pursued is an ideal quality of life, not that nebulous dream. If the dream is not defined for a certain quality of life, then there is no need for the dream to exist.

There is no need to exist, and yet it exists. This time existence may not be a dream, but it is magic. A dream must be beautiful, if it is not beautiful, it does not deserve to be called a dream. If the dream cannot guide us to the good, then the demon must make us deviate from the path.

The desire to be beautiful is a desire, everyone is walking on the road to be beautiful, running to aspire, to be beautiful, want a result, you must go through a process. The process and the result are not in conflict, whether the process or the result, the road aspired to should be a way to enjoy the payoff at the same time, but also to gain.

People should store desire and seek the truth, no desire is no motivation, perhaps real, not what the eyes see to be real. Because true or not, they will certainly feel the first time. There is no pleasure, is not a kind of enjoyment, there is no harvest, is tired or easy, is bitter or sweet.