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When the emotion is lo
When the emotion is lost, visit the original place, accompanied by the sunset
and autumn rain. If you are in such a situation, how can you taste it? When the
rain accidentally splashed into the face, how can the cockroaches that are born
still remain in my heart. Once upon a time, I fell in love with that distant
mountain. A while ago, the sky was drizzling with drizzle, and the rain after
the late autumn had a different kind of feeling, sorrow and sorrow, and a
detailed description. I looked at the distant mountains, and I was so
embarrassed that I didn't know where the impulse originated. I wanted to see it.
The rain is naturally clear in the autumn, but I seem to have a unique feeling
for it, with a sense of "cold and cold." The distant mountains in the setting
sun are covered with pale golden brilliance, reflected in the stream of clouds
and the evening glow at dusk. As I held the umbrella, I gradually approached it.
The steps of the road, the traces of the emerald-like green inlaid in it were
distinct Parliament Cigarettes. The
stone steps are similar to the blood of the human body, and the top of it is
covered with a layer of mottled leaves. The leaves hang their heads, dripping
down some crystal rain, hitting the stones and squeaking, but like the sound of
bamboo, I took it up, the road was rugged and slippery, I turned around, I was
about to look to the end but not yet At the end, at this time, with my footsteps
and the melody of the rain, the heart is already quiet, such as the same small
ditch, just wish to stay quiet for a while, carefully understand something. A
pavilion appeared shortly before, and no one, it was recessed into the longevity
of the grass, which was quite elegant and lonely. It was all wooden, but the
simple layer of Uwa. Unconsciously, speed up the steps of going up the mountain,
put down the umbrella, lean it on one side, walk into the pavilion, and enjoy
the tranquility of immersing in the rain for a moment. I was sitting on a wooden
chair with my shoulders slightly leaning against the surface of the pillars. I
closed my eyes and seemed to smell something. It was the sound of rain or the
friction of the leaves. It didn��t seem to be. I didn��t expect the sound to
gradually clear up. I blinked and only felt the light of the sunset slowly
flowing into the pavilion, infiltrating into the position where I sat down. What
is warm and joyful, it seems to be inconsistent with this cold autumn Newport 100S. I put my gaze away
and scanned some of the writing on the pillar next to my hand. I couldn��t see
it because I was separated by a few meters. I got up and thought of the words in
a curious heart. There was a burst of pain in my heart that slowly spread out,
mixed with a bit of sourness, only because I saw the words on it. I am isolated
again, the hand touches the smudges of the memory that has been scattered in the
old place, and it is like the words covered by the bottom of the hand. They are
all memories, a feeling of reluctance, and also in the heart. I thought about
those things. I still remember that year, it seems that in the year that I will
forget, I went out with friends and walked through this place. At that time, we
went into the mountain fr om another place. From this road, I went out with them.
I was very tired, shouting, laughing at each other, very refreshing. We first
exercised on the stone bench next to the grass. They were still joking. Let me
sit first because the stone bench is shorter. Later, we continued down the
mountain and walked to the present kiosk to enjoy the harmony and satisfaction
Today, I can't forget it anymore. It's just arrogant, pure and beautiful. When
the weather is cool, it's so thick. The scene of the scene is like a roll of
film, recording too much detail and friendship, it is invaluable, at least in my
heart. In the past few years, I have moved to a lively place wh ere the soul may
be accustomed to this state, and glitz may have eroded all memories. I stood in
the pavilion for a long time, occasionally lost my heart, and people went to the
empty space, a sigh of sigh. I secretly think about this, read these. So for the
first time, I felt the sadness after the joy of the heart, and the rain outside
was still there. I still felt the smile and talk of the warmth in the past, but
now I can't go back anyway. Looking at the sun in the west, I am about to
converge on the horizon, returning to the mountain with helplessness. I am far
away from the mountain pavilions. I look back at the distant mountains and see
me again. However, even the original sunset is not lost in the rain. Existed.
The distant mountains carry too much innocence and joy, and they also bear too
much heavy, and the world can not afford the long-term full burden is often this
feeling and such delicate mind and spirit. It is a sound memory; a unique
thought; a heart that observes the true realm and cherishes
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