O.C., California Forum
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07.10.2019 02:55
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The indigo night sky, the twinkling stars, the shadows outside the window, such as clip art, are not true. I lay in bed, squinting, relying on the faint light of the street lamp, looking out the window, bursting into remorse and arrogance. Today is Sunday. I am going to relax and finish my class. I suddenly remembered Dad��s flowers. Falling away, I sang the songs when I graduated. I couldn��t help but listen to it. When I heard half of it, my father asked me to go to the study room to help him wash his brush. As I washed the brush, I couldn't help but sing it. "Wait, you can sing it again to me!" I turned and faced him: "Beside the long pavilion, the ancient road..." "Hey." Father's eyes are dark Down, the eager and enthusiastic gaze turned into a gray-eyed look Marlboro Cigarettes. "When I graduated, my classmates sang Yangko. I always thought it was the 'fruit road side' Marlboro Lights. It was the road of the village. I also often deliberately Going there to go there...�� The father sighed, I stood there, I don��t know how to be good, that look, like a dagger, piercing my chest, isn��t it the same? When I was in elementary school, my best friend liked the swallow most. Later, I separated her from her. There were few contacts, and I couldn��t help but think of her favorite swallow. On one walk, I found a nest of swallows under the door beam, black feathers, and scissors-like swallowtails. I couldn't help but smile, looked up and remembered the friend, happy. After that, I will deliberately come here during the walk. Gradually, we are familiar with them, they will fly to my shoulders, and sometimes I bring some food to them. Just remember, the days at that time, as if you were thinking of the heart, are the lovely swallows. Until one day, I went to the Biology Research Center. I was clearly and shocked to see that the "swallow" that I formed was not the favorite swallow in my friend's mouth mokingusacigarettes.com, but another creature that resembled a swallow. At that time, I felt an inexplicable sorrow and grief in my heart, and my heart could not sink, and the bleak and cold eyes seemed to be acceptable to me. After a while, my mood was very low, as if something was missing, it was a pain. After a long time in the study, I went back to my room and thought about it. There is an unread book "Beautiful" on the desk. I stare at the words. Suddenly, a spirit, what I lost at that time is a good thing, a good, a wrong beauty. I closed my eyes in bed and remembered my father's eyes. I am afraid that I will remember the clearest eyes in my life! But what is the use? All I can do is to cherish the beauty of the "wrong" that may remain in my heart, and to carefully guard the goodness of others' mistakes. |
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