the simple but true life

Inadvertently, thoughts, always ups and downs. Covered in dust and those quiet or blundering heart, just as far away. Only an indifferent heart, and silently at the time mask house.

Like to ask the day of heavy noise to some quiet. Always think, it is to their own comfort. , it seems quiet, the whole world is quiet.

So deep night, I always give yourself a most comfortable corner. A person to listen to the wind, rain, listen to the voice of the moon landing. Or, let yourself sitting on a leaf of window, listen to soft music. Closed her eyes, it seems that you can hear his breathing, heart, is light, want to walk far, you can walk far mask house.

The time, in this kind of leisure, passed quietly. Sat night, consistent with the moon silent, all static and flow of thoughts, began to blur, a piece of chaos in my head.

Don't want to deliberately to recognize and comb the bottom of my heart the most real. Numerous and complicated, the hustle and bustle, will be in peace, too late.

All say destiny into his own hands, but in the face of life, we always cautious. And hopeless, we can only give a gust of wind mask house.

People want to follow your own heart always go on. Some worry, however, will still be off guard to patronize, in the eyes, keep circuitous, I cannot ignore its existence. This, often let me lost, hesitate.

Ever heard the phrase: the world is no longer perfect, we still with strange so bittersweet recognition under it. Continue to go a long way.

Every crossing the threshold, I would stand in silence for a while, in the face of their own perseverance and flexible, a little respect.

Though, I how also can not cover up that kind of feeling overwhelmed, in the exhaustion of clusters of footprints left because of the deep sigh.

Maybe, the day is like this. The night gentle like water bath, also want to through day rolling over, day by day, year after year, the cycle.

In the day of the cycle, had a lot of dream. Always thought, with those dreams, through the dusty, can still see debris after the wonderful life. Road, more walk more far, dream, the more do more simple. Today, life seems to be only a dream.

That dream, in the far distance. Arrived in attentively, a month, there is wind, have high days, a very lively, very concise picture, someone is just around the corner. Smile and mesmerizing, some flowing thoughts, over mountains, overflow, close water naturally stop in the dream.

Then, in the time's river, I drift with the dream, the deep, deep shallow shallow, long all the way, all the way.

Who said, how long the life, the dream is how long is it? Time is old, old, I am still searching in the dream. The sunshine through the leaves, the dream shadow dragged far and deep. Time rolled by, also the dream is true.

Always believe that as long as there is water, the dream will be deep in my eyes, in my life. I'm tired of have a reason to happy go on.

Dream, continued, and I am still chasing. So, I and who dream?

Time went by, prints. Life has been in circulation between dream and reality. Perfect and imperfect, joy and worry, constitutes the simple but true life.

Time away behind, haunting is still the thick old tinge.

May be know, no longer can't go back in those days, and always want to keep some what. So, there is always a person silently hidden behind in time, again and again miss those who have good; Or, in the form of text, approached once mood.