who is aging the years

Day after day, year after year, ordinary days like water crossed, inadvertently white hair inserted into the light of day, the story of people or things, has been blurred, go to go, scattered. When the curtain falls, a lot of reluctant feelings flocked to the original landscape in the eyes, has been the story of memory. A lot of reluctance, a lot of uncertainty overnight, questioning: who is aging the years?

The fact is that you can find a lot of people who are not old and have a long history of green water, and fate will always play tricks on people, sudden changes, natural and man-made disasters, so we are caught off guard, so we are vulnerable. I don't want to mention those gray days, I don't want to think about how the sunset will be, and gradually began to fear old age.

The fact is that you can't understand the mystery of fate, and you'll always look at the ones in front of you, coming and going, splitting up, and ending up cold and clear. I don't understand the years, who is the story of the ageless, the stars do not fall. Perhaps we are all dust in the fire and smoke, a drop in the ocean, the unchangeable course, the unchangeable ink, the people gone, the empty buildings, the lonely shadow with the moon, the cold wind blowing, all alone, the shadow of a man.

The unpredictability of life, the sudden departure, began to worry, began to fear old, began to count the days, pages of fondness, but it ignored the other pieces scattered, through the fingertips, leaving a slight pain. The river of quicksand never favors anyone, the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west, and the time seems to go like an arrow, the unchanging law, never.

Can't catch the day, can't fathom the cause, can't answer, questions haunt the sun and moon, as always, the existence of the slow travel confused door ...... remember a lot of things ......

The neighborhood where you live has a small fitness park, the corner is a car repair, a grandfather of more than sixty, so this has become a gathering point for the elderly, or playing cards, or idle chatter, or sitting in silence. Every day of the year, the habit has become a rule, and after the regularization, the more miserable I feel. That scene, the old crowd, the main tone of black, Xiao dark very, the heart is quite blocked, speechless fallen a flock!

There is a decades-old poplar tree in front of the old house, very robust as a child, lush branches and leaves, lush, later, rarely go back, I do not know whether it is the reason for old age, or no one to manage, dry leaves increased a lot, jagged trunk, rough bark, an unpleasant picture. The traces of childhood naughty moments, with the passage of time, a lot of abrupt, a little ugly, a little heartbroken. No one can escape from the years, you are also, that evening sun residual light lonely shadow, the lonesome between, deeply experience it.

The most important thing is that you will be able to get the most out of your life. When far away from the years, the hands of the night call, again and again, helpless eyes, no longer see the initial model, the beat of old age, gradually approaching, so afraid, so reluctant to go into the dusk, so worried about the silence of the night cold. Perhaps, finally, this heart does not want to and does not want to, and sunset afterglow walks it!

A finger of quicksand, aged the years, we walked the stopping stations, how much can stay? How many can be deeply engraved? A thousand times the same story, the same destination, life has its length, are afraid to approach the end, are afraid of the dusk sunset, perhaps we are a common people it!

If possible, I just want to freeze the present, the most beautiful sound, even if walking in the sunset of the western mountain path, can still have this company around, the warm breeze blowing thin shoulders, no longer lonely wandering, no longer cold and lonely, still the same dash to comb the time, warmth overflowing, dancing with the evening sun!