The years pass, and on your fingers, ruthless in hair, cannot have found by the previous breath, only memory deep shadow light. Step into the rainy season I have realized that what is true and false, beauty and ugliness, good and evil, and realize what is really the happiness and worry, gradually found that life is a never stop game, all in the future, all will be a thing of the past, all the past will not be coming back. The process of growing up is a kind of light mood, depression and slowly spread as oxidation, no precursor. Until suddenly one day, find that I have with this light temperament.
Grow up, do not know from when begin to learn to silence and melancholy, often a man sitting on the window to look out over the buildings and the blue of the sky, back in the side or wonderful happened or dull silver screen, think back to the past, slowly taste. In thinking and remember, feeling a little bitter of youth bring us.
Injustice not content to let the tears were shed a line has a line; the injustice not content to let the young heart tired a ride and a ride. Want to struggle out of the, out of the many nets.
The outside world is wonderful, the outside world is really very helpless, wonderful seven color neon, such as helpless as the autumn wind sweeps.
Buried the light blue sky of, just ask heart forever if this moment is halcyon, let me have this moment of eternal!
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