Pale flowers that bloom all the way

　　That June has become a thing of the past, just like the footprints of the summer, withering away in the sultry autumn of October, scattering away from the eyes to the heart.　

　　I don't remember when I used to pick up my English book and quietly remember it under the pomegranate tree in front of the dormitory. The fact is that you can find a lot of people who are not able to get a good deal on this.

　　I don't remember when I got into the habit of listening to a song by Faye Wong in the dark afternoons, letting her lingering whispering kill the day's boredom and framing myself in solitude.　　

　　I don't remember when I started to love going to the hills around my school with my friends at dusk on Saturdays. The words that only we can understand are the words of our hearts; the words of friendship that we can pass on to each other; the feelings between women in the era of white clothes and snow are a kind of existence beyond love.　　

　　I don't remember when I started to agree with my classmates to jog on the playground in the early morning light, accompanied by the scent of flowers and birds, to breathe the air of a new day.　

　　There is also the quiet green lane in front of the library, I don't know how many times I have to walk before I get tired of it. The gardenia is in full bloom along the way, the elegant fragrance lingers in the heart, and it is pleasant to the heart and the mind.　　

　　There is also the stairway to meet the figure in a hurry, haven't had the time to see it has brushed past, like a gust of wind drifting in the river of time. The only thing that remains is the sound of footsteps in the empty aisle when you realize it.　　

　　And the black crowd in front of the kiosk and the leaping figures on the basketball court, and ...... Oh, too much, too much!　　

　　The memories are watery, clear, hazy, disillusioned, and fixed!　　

　　Occasionally in the middle of the night to receive a message from a strange city, full of friends' care, and greetings. It is a very good idea to hold it in your hand, look at it in your eyes, and be moved by it in your heart, as real as a dream. The thoughts are spilled ink bottles, covering all the emotions, flashing in the mind's eye, lingering images of the past. At night, the moonlight is clear, only for a lonely heart in that unknown corner.　　

　　The first thing you need to do is to get together after the wind. In the fading years of youth, we are all at a loss and panic. There is a sadness that swirls in the heart and drips into a huge river.　

　　They say that they have traveled so much just to meet us; they say that no matter what city they are drifting in, one heart will always be attached to another; they say that we will become less and less like ourselves. The true nature of youth is still disappearing in the magic formula of approaching reality. The thorns that once protected you will get sharper and sharper at some floating point in time.　　

　　The summer is just a tiny drop in the ocean in the brief history of time, as unreal as the dust floating a billion light years away, an existence that cannot be touched.

　　　The road of youth, all the way to the flower, all the way to open. The fragrance of the road is always there. The previous glimpses, once happy and sad, the past mundane smoke and clouds, in the approaching days will be re-enacted, playing the rhapsody of life.

　　　　Maybe it's "the hate is just like the grass, more lines and farther away from the birth", maybe it's "people drunk on yellow flowers, the sound of rain in the autumn dream", maybe it's "the forest flowers are red in spring, too hasty". However, too much lamentation and nostalgia just add to the sorrow and annoyance, a night of prosperity is not the grass in pursuit of the relentless hustle and bustle, but the beauty of the bleak cast. "The flowers are different from each other, and the flowers are different from each other. The river of life is a winding vicissitude, the clear stream of years is a long way to go before the deceased, may the road of life can be wonderful, the light flowers, all the way to open. May the fragrance is always there, the beauty is always there, and the Iyi is always there, accompanying you to enjoy.