你也許不知道即使是不能再見面我都是開心的，正因為不能再見才正說明上天曾經安排我們相遇過，不是麼？有過相遇，我們就是富有的。 我看著夏天清澈的雨洗滌窗外模糊的樹影，沐浴著霧氣的葉擺在雨幕中搖曳出寂寞的姿勢，空氣中有風掠過時留下的幾縷線條。我數著這黑白色調的線條，地面上忽然浮現陰雲不規則的剪影，寂寞的形狀有那麼一絲像你的笑。 將丟置於角落中的老舊詞典收起，像咀嚼某段洋溢香氣的過去般讓塵封的不再塵封，乾癟於晚秋肩頭的松仁詮釋著季節的壞脾氣。偶爾路過街角色彩明麗的廣告牌，它的落寞在午夜十二點的漆黑中發酵，升華。最終在遠方不知名的小站裡邂逅自己，兩個不同的地方常常會有相同的廣告存在；兩處不同的站臺是否會有同種重量的心情？我在等待雷聲，它穿梭在屬於我們共同擁有的那片天空，儘管它來時層雲打翻了墨瓶，髒了素雲。我留給你的字卻早已篆刻在大地的眉角、發梢。雷的背後有雨，雨將我寫在地面上你漂亮的笑意衝洗，一遍一遍。七月的傍晚裡，有幸福過濾後沉甸甸的橘子的香氣，我在閉著眼睛的午后里從記憶中摘下一棵最酸的，遞給了你………… 聽說難過復生的那晚，星輝一直掛在樹梢。你看到了徜徉在窗外並不唯美的夜色，我在你南方的南方，想像著你空洞的沉默在時間的尾巴上摔倒了，又爬起，站起來又摔下去。你低頭卻發現痛的時候沒有了眼淚，只有上揚的嘴角，它擺出酷似幸福的樣子。別人不知道鏡子中你生硬的笑其實才是最烈的毒酒。室內的燈光在並不純白的走廊勾勒出光暈的裙擺，你轉身走進夜幕，影子在你的背後上演著一齣悲劇。我希望睡死在枝丫上的星宿夢裡有個叫傻瓜的孩子，路過悲傷時可以用記憶稀釋傷痛。只唱不會哽咽的簡單的歌。 我不喜歡清晨，戀破曉。 破曉裡有我們混合了牛奶般香甜的對話。破曉裡有笑靨，有風乾了的關於年輕的句子，還有你的樣子。我對七月說這是沒有結尾的故事，於是日記中有熱鬧的逗號、嘆號、問號，沒有句號。我會看著略顯湛藍的天際幻想著你釋懷微笑的樣子，因為知道你不快樂的時候我抬頭目睹的除了墨色的雲還是墨色的雲。沒有嘆息，你的難過重得連嘆息都失去了存在的資格，沉澱到失意人的腳踝邊，死去。 複製著陽光，設想著你不快樂的時候可以有個地方預支溫暖。即使是透支。 泥土中，有夏季消逝的聲音。怎麼辦？有些幸福還沒有長大，我用塑料口袋收集夏晚的風，雙手沾滿了七月的味道，還有敲打鍵盤時一些歌聲溺死暖風中的幻境。燈影下有記憶腐敗後零碎的光點，還有你完整的陳述和風的顏色。班駁在窗欞的不是月色是有關於年輕的一些個酸澀的故事。你別過頭去拼命憶起我的臉，消失在你視野的瞬間有眼淚摔碎的聲音和你簡單的皺眉，如果忘了我是誰，就請不要再想起。 在會下很大雨的時候，都要擔心鐵軌上的鏽花會「斑斕」了我們種植在這一路上的風景，隱匿於石頭、鐵軌、野草間的你的問，我的答；我的問，你的答。你笑過，可我知道有些笑洩露了你未曾提及的失落。不去觸及傷痛，因為我們都有饒過苦澀的想法，很棒的想法。為什麼沒有把自己單純束縛在快樂的羽翼上，誰在擔心，它飛不起來。即便是墜落不還是有笑容嘛！這樣很好。真的很好。假如你的歌裡唱不出你的情緒，旋律的背上載不起你的寄託，一個走在暴雨中模糊的身影，請告訴我那是你麼？是你麼？ 把腳印鑲嵌在沙灘上的日子，歲月用海岸線編織出海藍色的足跡，你一直走在足跡的前邊。 小松，我只想給你最簡單的快樂，給我們的相識附和一段最簡單的快樂，簡單到將這種快樂放置在天平上根本就沒有重量的負載。簡單到也許你永遠都看不到，但你知道它存在，知道它瀰漫在路途中的某一處驛站，誰都夠未曾留步，給我們的就只有那麼一眼的側影，便華麗了整個夏天也不消散。不需要繁瑣的修飾，把即將幻化成為蟬翼的透明昨天裝訂成冊，就算是註定塵封在你年幼時不曾開啟的小鐵盒子中，我們也有微笑的理由。我知道有些情節不必重複，你也負荷不起命運的安排，過濾後的寂寞早就不再寂寞。我只奢求將那絲所謂的影響了不只一個人的昨天粘上膠帶，用準備寫單詞「FOREVER」的筆標記上不是「過去式」這三個字。我想，活在一個人記憶深處的樣子一定很悽涼，而且有時頭上還會頂著「傻氣」兩個字。我不想你在悽涼中走失，所以見到你時我會大聲說：「認識你，很高興！」讓每一次相遇都改名叫邂逅，讓每一次相遇都是是第一次；見不到你的時候我便會大聲對自己說：「很高興，認識你！」使那些聽不懂幸福的××樹、××建築在你消失了身影的城市裡迷茫不知所從。然後我滿意地轉身，背對著你劃下成長的弧度。用沉默擱淺你小心寄存在我手心中的美好，走時，你卻忘了說什麼時候來取回。如果你是故意的一定不要忘記在迷失了方向之前轉告我這美好得以存活的年限，過期的記憶沒有薄荷的清香，沒有你的樣子，我不要。You may not know that even if I can't meet again, I am happy. Just because I can't see you again, it means that God has arranged for us to meet, isn't it? Once we met, we were rich. I look at the clear rain in summer, wash the fuzzy shadow of trees outside the window, the leaves bathed in fog swaying in the rain screen, leaving a lonely posture, and the wind in the air. I count the black-and-white lines, suddenly appear on the ground of the irregular silhouette of clouds, lonely shape has so a trace like your smile. Put away the old dictionary left in the corner, like chewing a piece of fragrant past, let the dust laden no longer dust laden, the pine nuts shriveled on the shoulder of late autumn annotate the bad temper of the season. Occasionally pass by the corner of the bright color billboard, it's lonely in midnight in the dark fermentation, sublimation. Finally, I meet myself in an unknown station in the distance. Two different places often have the same advertisements. Do two different platforms have the same weight of mood? I'm waiting for the thunder, which shuttles through the sky that belongs to us, even though the stratiform clouds overturn the ink bottle and dirty the plain clouds when it comes. The words I left you have long been engraved on the brow corner and hair tip of the earth. There is rain behind the thunder, the rain will write me on the ground, your beautiful smile wash, over and over again. In the evening of July, there is the fragrance of orange after happiness filtering. In the afternoon with my eyes closed, I picked the most sour one from my memory and handed it to you It is said that on the night of sad rebirth, Xinghui has been hanging on the treetop. You see the night wandering outside the window is not beautiful. I am in the south of your south, imagining your empty silence, falling on the tail of time, climbing up, standing up and falling down. You look down and find that there are no tears when you feel pain, only the rising corner of your mouth, which looks like happiness. Others don't know that your stiff smile in the mirror is actually the strongest poison. Indoor lighting in the corridor is not pure white outline halo skirt, you turn into the night, the shadow behind you staged a tragedy. I hope there is a child named fool in the star dream sleeping on the branch, who can dilute the pain with memory when passing by sadness. Just sing simple songs that don't choke. I don't like the morning, love the dawn. In the dawn, we mixed the milk sweet dialogue. There are dimples in the dawn, dried sentences about youth, and your appearance. I said to July that this is a story without an end, so there are lively commas, exclamations and question marks in my diary, and there is no full stop. I will look at the slightly blue sky and dream of your smile, because when I know you are not happy, what I see is not only dark clouds but also dark clouds. Without a sigh, your sadness is so heavy that even a sigh has lost the qualification to exist. It precipitates to the ankles of the frustrated people and dies. Copy the sunshine, imagine you can have a place to warm when you are not happy. Even overdraft. In the soil, there is the sound of summer disappearing. What should I do? Some happiness has not yet grown up, I use plastic bags to collect the wind of summer evening, my hands are full of the taste of July, and some songs drown in the warm wind when I tap the keyboard. Under the shadow of the lamp, there are scattered light spots after memory corruption, as well as your complete statement and the color of the wind. Class barge in the window lattice is not the moon, is about some young sour story. Don't go over your head and try your best to remember my face. When it disappears into your sight, there are tears and simple frowns. If you forget who I am, please don't think about it again. When it rains heavily, we all have to worry that the rust flowers on the railway track will be "colorful". The scenery we planted along the way, hidden in stones, railway tracks and weeds, your questions and my answers; my questions and your answers. You've laughed, but I know that some of them reveal the loss you haven't mentioned. Don't touch the pain, because we all have bitter ideas, great ideas. Why didn't you just tie yourself to the wings of happiness? Who is worried that it can't fly. Even if it's falling, there's still a smile! That's fine. Really good. If you can't sing your emotion in your song, and can't carry your sustenance on the back of melody, a vague figure walking in the rainstorm, please tell me is that you? Is that you? The days when the footprints are inlaid on the beach, the years weave the blue footprints on the sea with the coastline, you always walk in front of the footprints. Komatsu, I just want to give you the most simple happiness, to our acquaintance with the most simple happiness, simple to put this happiness on the scale, there is no weight load. It's so simple that you may never see it, but you know it exists, and you know it permeates a certain post station on the road. No one has stopped. What you give us is only a glimpse of the profile, and it's gorgeous. The whole summer will not disappear. There is no need for tedious decoration, and the transparent yesterday that is about to turn into cicada wings is bound into a book. Even if it is destined to be sealed in the small iron box that you did not open when you were young, we have a reason to smile. I know that some plots don't have to be repeated, and you can't afford the arrangement of fate. The loneliness after filtering is no longer lonely. I just want to stick tape on the so-called yesterday that affects more than one person, and mark it with the pen that is ready to write the word "forever" instead of "past tense". I think, living in the depths of a person's memory must be very sad, and sometimes the head will bear the word "stupid". I don't want you to be lost in the desolation, so when I see you, I will say aloud, "nice to meet you!" Let every encounter be renamed as encounter, let every encounter be the first time; when I don't see you, I will say to myself aloud: "I'm glad to meet you!" So that those who do not understand the happiness of ×× tree, ×× building in the city where you disappeared figure confused, do not know where to go. Then I turn around with satisfaction and draw the arc of growth with my back to you. Stranded with silence, you carefully deposit in my palm of the good, go, you forget to say when to get back. If you do it on purpose, don't forget to tell me before you lose your way about the years when you can survive, the expired memory, without the fragrance of mint, without your appearance, I don't want it. er sovereign? for these dead knaves have found me both in exercise and appetite.' 'In troth,' replied the Outlaw, 'for I scorn to lie to your Grace, our larder is chiefly supplied with---' He stopped, and was somewhat embarrassed. 'With venison, I suppose?' said Richard, gaily; 'better food at need there can be none---and truly, if a king will not remain at home and slay his own game, methinks ！天神殿蕭天策高微微免費！觀看！絕世無雙 天神殿 戰神殿 蕭天策高薇薇免費小說 蕭天策高微微小說免費閱讀 華夏第一戰神蕭天策高薇薇最新章節 龍國域外戰神 戰天策全書閱讀