Donnerstag, 5. Dezember 2013

The life of white

I don't know the young body wrapped around the heart there are many sentimental, should admit that my favorite in melancholy surging, in search of my deep. Many days, in order to the best friend of misunderstanding, my heart so helpless with surprise and pain; to the noise of the earth and the Philistine vulgar, I with deep hatred and resentment......
Then one day, after breakfast, it is late spring and early summer, the sun warm soft. I took the book, dragged tired legs, walk alone in the street, was depressed in the heart suddenly left and right, seems to go on for a long time, so come and go, I finally stood in a not well-known tree, stared. I picked up a few leaves into his mouth, gently chewing, taste the slightest bitterness. Just as suddenly, I find that the tree was born with two shades of the leaves, slightly dark is old, big leaves very thick; shallow is new, the blade is very small, tender yellow a bit transparent...... At that moment my heart is like what touched the side, suddenly one earthquake, it seems that leaves should not live in the same tree, like a person, does not seem to be the only self-esteem and self-esteem, both poor and rich, both positive and negative yourself -- but clearly such a tree the growth of two different leaves. Whether, sorrow will be old to go, happiness will grow up?
The little side, there is a corner, the sun is surprisingly good. I walked past, found there a heap many small pieces of colored stone, colorful. I don't think you like this place, in the corner, open to bring the "treasures" of Xi Murong's prose. Then for a moment, I'm totally in the world.
"Uncle, what book do you read?"
There is a very fine very fine voice rising from below, I made an effort to see the past, a very little girl seems to emerge from the ground general standing at my feet, the whole people thin brows and eyes fine hand fine feet, it took the fine eyes looking at me, quietly white. "Uncle?" Is called me? Have a look around and not others, it is me. Not consciously to laugh, I think your depression is from a face off.
I wanted to tell her the name of the book, and to even tell her, she also don't understand, not equal to also did not say what? So, I withdraw my eyes, face hanging on a deep and melancholy. I saw Xi Murong "two times" in the sentence:"...... I know that the day will gradually old, time is likely to be in the coming days, the life on the inevitable sorrow gradually forget, remove this layer of grey purple haze and weeds from memory." For a long time, so I delude one to folly. Got a book, buried in the inside, not half a minute to two things I forgot realm.

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