It is always easy for people to remember what they like incessantly. However, I am an exception. In my opinion, anything that is fixed or only serves practical things is often awkward for the mind. Therefore, I love a thing, not only to seek and define its special value for the true, the good, the beautiful, I especially like the innocent freedom from its nature. I don't want to give something new meaning. Because I believe that everything is revealed in nature. When we follow the footsteps of words, we will inevitably find that what we are looking for will be disappointing. Therefore, it is better to feel quietly. Every moment of contact with life is a wonderful kind of fate. You should remember it forever, and then forget it thoroughly. When I first came here, I thought about many beautiful encounters. However, the more hope, the more disappointment; the more hope, the greater the disappointment. Therefore, sometimes even a rush to visit will bring a heart-warming warmth. The birds of Guizishan sneaked into my heart without expecting or warning. There are many trees in Guizi Mountain, and there are many birds. It is not difficult to know anyone who has been here. However, there are many types of birds. They are different in size, different in color, different in sound, some clusters fly, some are flying around, some are alone, and those who know how to observe are not difficult to understand. . In my mind, I evoke the image of Meng Xiaozi's rules, as if it was still the night of the night Marlboro Lights, echoing in the ears of the wanderers away from home. Once I strolled through the trees, picked up a bird feather on the old stone steps, and then clipped it in the book and bookmarked it for an afternoon. I was alone at the table reading a book. The golden sun was peacefully covered with half a cabin, quiet and flowing in the air. The book has been seen for a long time, and the pain of the neck is going to be committed. I looked up and looked out the window. I saw a bunch of tufts and leaves tremble. I looked at the window and looked at it. It turned out that a group of birds were eating the persimmons hidden under the dense leaves. The persimmon tree grows in the flower bed outside the small building. The tree is very tall. The fruit-bearing branches are facing the window of our third floor, but they are no less than three meters away from the window. People can't pick the persimmon fruit hanging on the branches under the tree or in the window, so it becomes the "sphere of influence" of the birds. After a long time, it becomes "naturally" and they become exclusive. A piece of "Happy Land." Every time I have leisure, I have to sneak out of the window. Sometimes there are birds jumping on my window sill and singing love songs unscrupulously Newport 100S. Whenever I leave my work, I listen quietly, even breathing. It was very slow, I looked at it, it seemed to stretch my head and stare at me curiously, and we looked at it for a long time, until its companion flapped its wings to call it away. A group of gray pigeons are often inhabited on the lawn in front of the canteen. They leisurely forage and walk between the grasses, and they do not interfere with the crowds that are constantly flowing, and the two are harmonious. Today, I am standing alone on the vast green field. The gale of the cold winter comes from behind, and the sun shines warmly on my face. There are still birds flying in the sky. There are still birds jumping on the lawn. There are still birds singing on the branches Online Cigarettes. The loneliness that humans have never had, once wrapped up in my heart like a cold chain, now unconsciously begins to slowly loosen and fade. Suddenly, I discovered that I am such a person: you can force yourself to not love a wonderful little poem, you can force yourself not to fall in love with a beautiful woman, but have no conditions and An angel who loves this tree freely and naughty nature without any precautions, even if I occasionally think of my distant hometown. Even occasionally I will think of the rain in the South and the snow in the North. Even occasionally, I will think of the dreams of the moonlight that have been there before.
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