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Nostalgia Like a Bottleneck
墨書 Inktalez
The tears that cannot be forgotten were not wiped away. The sands that were scattered in my hands. I finally didn’t remember that person. “I was writing very seriously.” The paper said so to the pen. The person who once said that Ashes would be thrown into the water had a big quarrel and went out for six or seven days to imagine what could be drawn from the old stones in front of him. Sunken Spears and Sinking Sands He said, “Five-Flower Horse, Priceless Fur” I remember she had seen it. I remember being moved by her crying face and hating me. Green Train I was tired of going and had no idea where to go. “Ahem, sorry.” She was so much like her. What she didn’t go on was the boat. “That day, on that day, I dreamed of stars falling.” That day, on that day, I clearly wrote this. Thinking of that group of people, even my mother was among them. Holding the pickaxe, her swaying eyes, I can’t remember. It always makes people laugh and cry because no matter how you look at it, “I look like”
Die!
This is not a plea.
Boredom gestures, feelings tangled.
As one ages, everything seems like the past.
It can't be said that one is "happily" gaining weight.
Like a Croissant, oh heart,
Is the syrup flowing out?
I remember that day,
The many clothes I cast aside
Could no longer fit!
Withered hands caress each page,
I've heard books can absorb grease.
If the story is too long,
Before it concludes, nothing is remembered.
"Forgive me for not having time to tell the story in full."
Three years ago, she wrote this on paper.
What day do you unseal it again?
Clearly, my nostalgia is like a bottleneck.
Those who wish to be indifferent
Occasionally glance around.
Everyone wants things ready-made
Because everyone does it this way.
If I must say so,
Aren't all things in this world just toys?
Cocoon grinding against strings,
Reminds one of nostalgia.
Oh beloved on Sithong Cliff,
Even if the night becomes your shirt,
Can it draw away your wandering thoughts?
One flower fades more beautifully than another.
Having grown into a Big Girl,
That kind of girl who smiles and shows her gums.
Exhausting future lifetimes,
How could it possibly last long?
Tasting tears like drawn threads, the strings become swift and double.
The night she caught fireflies was when she jumped into the river,
Coldly curling up by the shore,
Waiting for me to come out.
"No, no,
I'll come."
In this moment, not in the past, do not shed tears for what has gone by.
What decisions should be made now, merely recalling dreams that arise.
The youth with jade-white skin, don’t mention that autumn has arrived.
Under the vast blue sky, how can you compare to the moon?
Though his face still shows the awkwardness of a newcomer, his heart feels older than anyone else’s.
How many tears must the autumn wind wipe away?
I find myself daydreaming,
Wondering who I would tell as I fall into this moment,
“I won’t be coming back.”
It’s just a few fleeting dreams that are worth cherishing.
The password is Autumn Swallow.
A strange smile emerges,
Those who come to Chang'an keep drinking endlessly.
Winter has arrived.
Shall I admire a few late autumn flowers?
Is that not allowed?
That kind of rain falling on the asphalt always reveals many things.
The flowers stepped on that year must have bloomed.
A night spent with a cat displaying a proud expression, its eyes marked by a scar—this is Xiao Mi.
In a lifetime, one might write at most one book, and it may never be completed.
Old wood-like carvings are imprinted on paper;
This stool is extremely uncomfortable.
Oh, the heart of fear,
Truly more pretentious than my flesh-and-blood heart.
Greenwood
Even the finest strands of hair falling into my mouth can be felt.
“Here, there’s no need to thread the line.”
I thought so and added the last stroke. I also wanted to write a happy lyric. I cried because she kissed someone else. I just thought of the barbarian-like hair on my arm. Winter is coming. The midnight excitement like a new book is long gone. How come there is no wandering? The roar of the ship on the journey is huge. Why is there not a ripple? How can you say that? When flowers bloom, they also fall leaves. How can you say that? Some leftovers polished by friends are held in my hands. A thin crescent moon is blooming. The fountain blocked by silt has bloomed. The tree has grown into a flower. The quietest cloudy days in life are always good. I want to eat moon cakes. Even after that time, it is so similar. I can't accept that the ice cream has fallen. What is that! You have to think so. If it weren't for you, it wouldn't be today. All these boring words are ticked on the paper, because it is a boring time. "Take me away"
I can't recall the last time I stood beneath that tree,
When was it?
You must be living a long, long time, right?
Humans have an expiration date; they start to decay before they die.
Expired newspapers feature photos from years ago,
While soon-to-expire cookies boast limited-time coupons.
In this game, I've lost everything.
It's not just a fleeting moment.
Oh!
That kind of emotion,
That kind of feeling...
Unforgettable memories surge to the surface.
When you were angry, I was still listening to " Yandai Slanted Street."
It feels like in childhood, I captured all poetry on a single piece of paper—
Perhaps that's what memory is.
If it truly has been ten years, it feels as long as a lifetime.
Perched in the middle of the sea, like a solitary god,
A sunken island rises above the reef at this time each year.
Strands of hair curl like musical notes.
"Our love,
Is like scallions,
You Tiao,
And Chinese Crepe."
Flipping through a few pages absentmindedly, I think,
Finally, it's over!
My dream...
If you really are that radical,
There’s no need to be “this way.”
Let's go back and have a look! I suddenly thought of this. Your eyes were so bright through the thick smoke. Then what? So many things, but I asked you, then what? Say "I love you" Then what? After the vow was made, then what? What obstacles, what, then what? Life, over a mountain Then what People take life too lightly and death too seriously Cry, laugh, fear, anger But, but! Then what are those woods intertwined in confusion? Buildings are collapsing, and boats that can capsize are all luxuries. It's a luxury to want to hear the earth's answer. It's just a car that has lost control. All these things that can be sold have been sold by humans. The dripping tears seep into the evaporating salt of the wood Drunk Among Flowers, Unaware of the Moon, Toast and Wine It's still half a life. This world is the world of humanity, not the world of the world. Lion, lion,
Rabbit... Beating gongs and drums, like Lunar New Year In the endless, Paper Man also smiles Can we talk about giving up? Apart from the things that are born, what else can we talk about giving up? Living is an offense to me. It is very disturbing. I can smell that breath. The first cold wind is just the girl in the white dress. A ray of morning light under this sky is too sad. Awakening Bird calls, and the sky becomes bright and clear. It is a new year, and the tiles on the top are dripping. Because of my father, the railway tracks in the countryside always feel that the words written by close friends are very cute! Chinese Parasol Tree There is a stream in front of her house. Chinese Parasol Tree I once walked by the broken bridge. Balloons and kites are so similar. There are always prejudices in everything. We look lightly. Walking on the road, I suddenly realize my existence. The red maple in front of me. The falling maple leaves are really a symbol. The maple leaves dyed in autumn are bright red. The frost falls to the ground golden.
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