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Winter rain

The weather suddenly cooled down. The weather forecast said it was only 11 degrees. I put on my autumn clothes before I could react. I still felt cold and cold. The wind blows slanting, and the falling England flying all over the sky renders every corner of the city, which is like my wandering lonely soul. I don’t know when to start, suddenly I feel tired or even tired of all the existence, sometimes I am too lazy to speak. Let my emotions fall down like the British. I always interpret the process of time as the graph of heart rhythm beating, and always let loneliness erode my limbs and bones at the most depressed time. Some people intercede to the depth and feel lonely, but I feel lonely at the bottom of my heart. I was very afraid and tried my best to abandon the cycle in this cycle, and always unreasonably vent some inexplicable emotions To Sir, a good man who didn’t understand love but loved me a lot. Let him look at me innocently while I continue to express myself. When a person is free, he often goes to the seaside to stay silly, watching the tide of the sea rising and falling, looking at the lighthouse on the other side of the sea and sky, imagining whether it is the same as me, watching a certain corner of the city, waiting for a period of fate to come. My eyes penetrated through the four seasons, but I couldn’t get close. A woman’s heart has nothing to do with love, but she is always influenced by seasons to be isolated, which reveals all the pain accidentally. It has been interdependent with this city for 10 years and has always been watching like a passer-by. Considering the helplessness of survival, fate is no longer the graph in hand. Ask fate. Is it escaping or timid? It has been a long time since I had such a clear conversation with my soul. Every time I let myself feel another existence like baptism. Such language is like the sound of nature, the soul is dancing, and the blurred memory spreads everywhere. I am tired, but my memory is like that river. In countless sleepless nights, I gently stroke my wound, precipitate some stories, forget someone, and learn to forget for better possession, tears flow, but thoughts grow crazily in my heart, and I find that many times we strive to have exactly what we forget. Sorrow? The city is too busy and crowded. No one will stop to listen to your tears of flower withering and the sadness of leaf withering. The only conscience left is to smile lightly and pass. This city, alas! I felt frustrated for no reason and felt inexplicably disappointed with such weather. The sun is still hanging high, without the enthusiasm of summer, no drizzle, only hearing the sound of the wind, but my heart is like a brutal rain, disturbing my dream, it makes me feel the loneliness and sorrow of a wandering person. I really have the feeling of waking up and not knowing that I am a guest, and mistaking a foreign land as my hometown!

雨

[Editor in charge: Man Tree]]

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