The monologue of a traveler

The monologue of a traveler

I think I am a traveler, and I have walked the streets, the long dusty roads and the winding alleys of the ileum. I think I'm just a traveler, carrying my baggage of memories, saying goodbye to them again and again, and then coming here again.

I am always cast down by the eyes of passers-by, their eyes have wonder, disdain, also have sympathy, they see me in rags, they say I am just a vagabonder. Since wandering, gorgeous lonely is in the past, become less important. Just wander from here to there, without asking where you came from, without belonging. I just shook my head, I said I was a traveler, walking on the journey of my fate, from the broken alley out of the residual dream, from the residual dream out of life. Where I go is where I came from. Though I do not know how far my journey is, how many goodbyes there are, but I prefer to keep moving forward, keep my watch, keep my faith, keep my mind clear.

On the long journey, I rode the car, rushed in the vast road, is also looking for. I often see some people, they are sleeping, there are smiles on their faces, but also sad, they seem to be outside the journey, my loneliness and look around, they can not see. They have their own world, sunrise, sunset and rest. We seem to spend life on the train, we meet here, have those blue edge, hazy color in the dim day, floral total invasion of my face, the moment of care also becomes the most beautiful clouds and smoke. But the car stopped, I hurried out, I just in full of curious eyes looking for a kind of hope. I'm gone, you're gone, he's gone. Like those passed by the train, staggered, also staggered the different life. People are disabled, the month is also disabled. People have gone, the shadow is still in, the servant dust left me only memories. Memories of those fuzzy smile, touch the heart of the small happy moment, once the beauty of the heart.

When I leave a place, I hear new songs, take new paths, meet new people. At this time I will carefully look at myself, as well as the road, meet people. Standing in a lonely corner of the dream, tell yourself to pay attention to the corner of the journey. Learning to be grateful and content, and finding that something really has been forgotten, and what's left is always the most unforgettable part, and what I thought would never be forgotten is now blurred, and what's left is just a filtered emotion, like the smell of a phoenix flower in early summer. When retreating from the noise back to a person's world, the night overwhelms the road. I try to look around, the water will rise suddenly, climb to the high ground, the flowers will run slowly and quickly across the field, the birds will follow the empty echo, wings in the sleepless night sky. That's the beating of the heart, that's the only way to see into the distance. So the journey, to experience difficult regeneration. Running tired, they want to find a temporary habitat for the soul, sometimes feel like a lost traction kite, day and night to fly in the blue sky, miss dust covered with the body, recognize the sad rain washed tired bones and muscles. In the silent night, my mind is half asleep and half awake, and life to me is consumed in these seemingly complex but simple and lovely flows. In the alternation of day and night, my past, my today, my dream, my fighting spirit has not slept. I know that every flickering light, every cool breeze, as well as my still hot longing and expectation, will be treasured in my journey, dotted with every move in my young life.

Still I walk, first with my left foot, then with my right, but with my whole heart. In good faith and courage to fulfill the attached steps, the deepest heart love condensed into a small flame, lit the silence on the road, lit with persistent flowers, I think such a brave and unremitting, can fill the night with glimmers of hope accompanied by the way, watch the comings and goings of the crowd and repair a heart not the vicissitudes of life, and then complete my journey.

Walking on the journey of life, the inner world will be intoxicated, the peach blossom of life will sing. I raised my face to the sun and gave it a bright smile in return for the light and heat it gave me.