Jing M. Guo's classic sentence was hidden at a certain time and missed the palm print for a while; Hiding somewhere, missing people standing on the road.

Because of the word limit, I wrote so much. Although I don't know if there is anything you want.

Jing M.Guo

First, "The Edge of Love and Pain" A child looking up at the sky

If the loneliness, loneliness, emptiness, desolation, desolation and cold in my heart can't be erased, then I will enlarge it infinitely and enlarge it again until it is broken, tears streaming down my face and blood flowing all over my body. Destroy forever. ]

I am a child who looks up at the sky when I feel lonely. I look at the big sun and the big moon. My neck hurts and my eyes are full of tears.

I am in a bad mood most nights. Loneliness. Desolate. There is still a little fear.

[Zhang Chu Dou Wei Annie Baby]

Blank, or blank. A lot of white, spreading the emptiness like the top of Mount Tai. And the vast unknown desolation in my heart.

Music, gorgeous colors, concave and convex.

I like sitting in the corner, creating and waiting for my little happiness in that corner. Whether my blood is boiling or my body is stiff. In short, I don't want anyone near me.

I don't think I have that freedom. I can only curl up tighter in the corner. I fell asleep until I opened my eyes and all my troubles disappeared. Then I'll be happy and won't cry alone in the dark.

Those songs are like the sky, dreams are like clouds, electricity is like tears, flowers are like the wind, andante of Shaanxi Opera/my black elegy.

Wong Kar-wai movies are good at creating hallucinations, which makes people feel lonely, lost and sad.

【 those lively winds, those lonely people. Takeshi Kaneshiro, who kept eating the expired canned pineapple, Faye Wong, who kept waiting for the miracle, Leslie Cheung, with empty eyes and lonely gestures, Brigitte Lin, who kept repeating the Gregorian calendar, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, who was dancing his sword in the water, kept talking in a hole in the wall, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, who finally sealed all the secrets, Maggie Cheung, who was wearing a coquettish cheongsam under a trance-like street lamp, and a lonely person like a wound, appeared in my dream every night like an iron horse glacier. Past lives Things are different. The stars move around. Things have changed the dream of a thousand years. Never wake up.

Wong Kar-wai creates hallucinations and black wounds, each of which is like a black Datura, enchanting and painful, with endless black incense. ]

One is good at creating hallucinations, and the other is good at indulging in hallucinations.

Love story in Tokyo

Who sings the black elegy/who looks at the white village/my mercury/my fireworks/and my black hillside covered with iris/lively wind/lonely people/clear soul burning with brilliance/you are me/gentle scars that refuse to heal.

(JOE's "I Love Sunshine" Su Tong Duras)

Through my four seasons, through my sadness.

Camel head, running water wine/empty building in Syracuse/I want to hold buckwheat's hand/to the wind/to the clouds/to the source of peach blossoms/whose right hand/to pick up a silver needle/to roll up the cuffs/to sew a copper buckle/at the end of my world.

Many times I will be exhausted by the panic caused by uncertainty. I think I am really a very troublesome person.

I know many people and have played with them, but none of them I really want to love-not the love between men and women, but the love that really opens my soul. I am not a proud person, and now I am getting used to accepting people around me. Slowly.

When I am lonely, I sometimes look up at the sky stupidly.

Whose loneliness/clothes my cheongsam/whose cheongsam/covers my scarred shoulders/whose bright moon/shines on my black pine mountain/who is lonely/hurts the Cangjiang River in the mountain stream/who is that lonely child/buries his head in the dogwood/sings/is so vast/so desolate.

Duras said that writing is a dark suicide.

Inside, I'm losing my fluency.

The hand of the river/the throat of the night/the bamboo house hanging on the moon/who cooks sake for me/those blooming wounds/and my Gemini/one here/one there.

(Wei Ding Mianmian Murakami Haruki good girl Zhou Jianing)

The writer said: Love without sincerity is pornography.

(Cui Jian said: Language is an obstacle after all)

Music is affectionate, while people are indifferent. Animals are kind, but humans are dangerous.

Don't see the world too clearly.

Difficult and moving, happy and painful.

Text music

Sad and beautiful youth, sad and lonely age.

Standing in the middle of the crowd like a fish, looking around blankly. Cruel despair.

Ideal, no fantasy, passion, no affectation.

Listen, I'm unlucky. No one, including the immortal, gives me much face, which is to my liking. I thought that was just my idea. My idea is usually incorrect.

People live this life and deserve to be bossed around. The great man said: your own destiny is in your own hands.

Ignorance is not only meaningless, but also carefree

Learn to be patient, learn to be numb, and learn to wear off edges and corners.

Zhang Xiaofeng said: Give me an explanation, I can trust the world again, I can accept history, and I can embrace this desolate city without hesitation. ]

I don't want to be too happy or too sad. It is a good state to be outspoken. I've been trying.

I'm not excited or sad. My heart is like a stagnant pool.

I'm tired, my neck hurts when I look up, and I can't keep my eyes open. I am used to the dim light in the dark, but I am used to hysterical numbness. Everything is to drag yourself down, and finally everyone dies together.

Lonely, I stand in the boundless world, with smart children carrying fragile lanterns.

I sat in my seat like a good boy. All the voices are far away, and the world can be so peaceful and beautiful. Habitual numbness.

Everything seems unchanged, but in fact everything has changed in the cracks of life.

Although my parents are not afraid to hold me in their hands, I know they love me, which I am sure of.

Many times I meditate, thinking about the world, thinking about my life, thinking more and doing less. But this busy city and the world ask me to do less and less. So I often have a cruel feeling of imagining a beautiful reality.

I only like big buses with wide glass and hard seats. To be precise, I like the feeling of jumping up and down with the car and watching people running around outside the glass, whether it is life or death. For a time, sadness flooded.

I have a natural lack of patience.

The greatest advantage of writing novels is that you don't have to pay for killing people.

Looking at these words, my inner loneliness is infinitely magnified again. Internal rupture, how can it be so barren and desolate? People who like words, even if they don't know each other, have the same inner voice. Loneliness. Loneliness. Because my heart is barren and desolate, I also like words, and I like talking to myself constantly. Because it's just me. I don't like this, so I want to change this state, this life. If you don't like it, you must change it If you can't change it, you will be destroyed. ]

It's not that I'm noble, pure and conscious. I'm also dying in the secular world of abortion, hanging my head and stabbing the stock for future fame, profit and power. So the gap between reality and ideal makes me very frustrated, just like Faye Wong sang: red light, green light, red light.

The book says: Those who persist in waking up in the dark represent the last persistence of the human soul. [and this kind of person often dies first. ]

People are born unequal.

Beautiful life in the world is precious. You should believe that people believe in love and there are no unforgivable mistakes. Only Zhang Ailing said that life is a gorgeous robe full of lice.

My sad face is my youth/my eyes are waiting for the change of years/I know you best. My street is full of people who are heading for the sunset/people saying goodbye in the street/whose voice sings our songs/whose strings touch my heartstrings/who still has youthful songs after you leave/people always repeat our things.

I feel tired to some extent.

I think I'm a genius. I am an unfortunate genius. It would be a joke if I were not an unfortunate genius.

Immature people die bravely for a great cause (love), and mature people live humbly for a great cause (love).

I think I am a lucky genius. I am a lucky genius. If I am not a lucky genius, it will be a joke.

Who said that: drown the pain in things.

The night is always beautiful, and the dazzling neon floats faintly in the whole city. The crazy psychedelic atmosphere rises from the hot ground, and the midnight theater opens an ambiguous curtain in the city. The more beautiful the night is.

Life is smooth and quiet, like warm water, neither stimulating nor degenerating.

All inspiration flows from fingers in the form of blood.

We live by words and keep warm by words. If one day we have no words, then we are completely dead.

"Looking for Heaven" I leaned down and stared at you in heaven, just as you stared at me, slightly sad. I look up to you in Jiuquan, just as you stand in the wilderness and look up to your once sacred ideal. One day I will come back, bring back the fragrance of kapok and bauhinia, bring back our shining time and tell you that I have found heaven.

We have no tears. We thought we had turned into a hard rock with a cold breath in the dark, but found that we still had soft and sensitive places that could not stand touch.

It seems that deep sleep is a good way to escape, and we all use it.

Many times, I will miss my little happiness. If people can't grow up, don't study hard, don't think about whether that person loves me or not, and don't cry alone in the dark, that would be great. If people can't grow up, I will put on beautiful clothes every day and go out with a toy gun for a whole day. I don't have to worry about what will happen tomorrow. I can roll around in mud, and when I get home, I will point to my clothes and smile at my mother stupidly, and my mother will put them on me in distress. If I have a fight with a child, I can cry and cry loudly, saying that I will never be with you again, and then share my candy with him happily the next day.

A child who never grows up may always be worthy of forgiveness.

Reading is a state of my life, a state of flying.

I feel/have some things/can be forgotten/unforgettable/willing/helpless/I love you/this is my disaster.

[Zhang Ailing, Wang Yi 'an, Annie Baby] [Annie's vast expanse of unprepared emptiness and desolation of inner displacement. ]

Many times, I need some sharp and small pain to resist the numbness in my life.

The blue iris in the water is an illusion in life. A beautiful woman, standing in a lonely posture]

Ambiguous blue, blue reveals a feeling of pallor and trance.

I like white, a little pure and innocent.

In Jamlom's article, I know that white is a kind of division and internal displacement. "White has a strong passion, but it is also easily destroyed."

Displaced people, they have empty eyes, lonely gestures and a lonely face.

Calm and peaceful. This is something we can use to ease the wound. Only when a person has been far away and met many people can he feel calm and calm.

Life has a lot of bitterness and sweetness, which is worth persisting, tolerating and cherishing.

The blue iris represents the free and broken passion of fate, exquisite and beautiful, but fragile and perishable. ]

It makes people feel trivial, but at the same time they have unspeakable emptiness and fear, and at the same time they are afraid of being entangled in this life for life.

Some people say that writers are internally displaced. Escape because of sinking, wander because of escaping, and return because of wandering, but the road to return has been cut off and lost, so we can only continue to wander. Wandering marks no place to live and no home. Everything is like a wheel of fate manipulated by the gods. Once started, it cannot be changed or stopped.

It was a lonely and sad shadow, destined to shake my life. One's City-Reading Liu Liangcheng]

Live in one place all your life and sleep next to one person all your life.

After living year after year, the leaves fall to the roots, layer after layer, and finally buried in the leaves of their own lives. Both death and life are a realm. We cannot see all the snowflakes in one's life. Everyone spends the winter alone in his own life. We can't help anyone. My little fire is obviously a drop in the bucket for people who have been poor all their lives. His cold is too bad.

After prosperity to the extreme, all that remains is farewell and the arrival of the last days. This is a sobering pain.

Finally, I became a numb person, with cold and empty eyes for all touches or pains.

[A person's village, cold wind blowing, happiness in the sky from the well, wives in groups, farewell to Wei 'an, years on paper, Peter Pan, late August, bright corner]

I tried to make everyone accept me, but later I found that I couldn't. When I was halfway through, I found myself really exhausted. When a person's years are as empty as the wilderness, he can't take care of himself. Now I really love my friends, and I leave my only warmth to them, even though I feel the indelible mark of indifference on my face day after day. I hope there will be a bright wind that will fill every gap in my body with warm breath and melt all my frozen bones. ]

A person who loses the ability to love others is sad. A person who loves himself too much often hurts others unconsciously.

There is always a gap between words and feelings.

I am no longer a child. I should say that I was never a child. Although I may be a child in the eyes of my parents at a certain moment, it was only a moment, a moment, that's all. I'm not Peter Pan. Not before, not now and never again. I have never been a child, not from the beginning, not as long as I can remember. I am just a selfish person, a person who will not stand in the position of others and think of others, heartless. I am still a lazy person, a person who always wants to get something for nothing. Now and today, but I hope I won't be like this from tomorrow, so I won't be like this from tomorrow. Thank god. Amen. ]

[Looking at these articles, writing lonely words in people's hearts is not in a specific sense, nor does it refer to a specific group of people or a specific age. It exists in everyone's heart, more or less, or sad or sad. As long as you cherish it and walk with it, life is really beautiful. Contradiction is life, life is full of flavor, and life is full of flavor. Face everything with a calm heart, don't care about the result, only pay attention to the process, make every effort to do what you want, and don't care about the happiness. As long as you have peace of mind, you can have the courage to face everything and live this life calmly. ]

[Inside, not displaced. It settled. Solid. Thank god. ]

Live in one place all your life and sleep next to one person all your life. I believe everyone has his own place. Destiny takes a hand. So every minute, someone will start drifting with infinite expectation and stop drifting with satisfaction.

I like Shanghai because of its cultural heritage inherited from the 1920s and 1930s-prosperity and desolation.

Milan Kundera, I dreamed of you, LucianFreud.

In fact, people's truly perfect life should be in words, live like a movie, live like a novel, and live like the last time of a TV series.

Drifting. I'm drifting I have been wandering all my life.

Don't hang in the air all day.

[The Story of Flowers "Seven Years"]

The first layer is a struggle/the first layer is a transformation/and in the pain of looking back indifferently/it is your time and my life that frequently appear/Xi Murong.

Occasionally, I write something, but everything I write smells a little cold and damp, like moss growing in a dark corner.

I always tell the story I want to present in a careless tone. Sometimes I lose my temper willfully and feel sad for no reason. ]

There is a feeling called cloudy loneliness. In the loneliness of cloudy days, there will always be an obedient boy staring at the sky, and the leaden sky is full of lonely clouds.

I think many times I need a cloudy day with a breeze. I think I need a lonely long street with French phoenix trees on both sides. I think I need a dark but gentle asphalt road. I think I need a person to walk on it, holding my hand, and keep walking until it is dark, until the sun and the moon are out of light, until I completely throw away all my sadness, and until I become a really good boy. I walked to the Sansheng stone with big white flowers and blue flowers, and walked to the person who said that he would want me in his next life.

I crouched on the side of the road, clasped my hands, and watched the leaves of the plane fall in chaos and die quietly at my feet. I watched the sun outline the hillside, watched the hazy twilight, and watched the air begin to be covered with white dots. In a trance, it was like an old movie. If it's cold, it's a good posture to hold your legs tightly. I get used to this posture day by day, like a lonely child.

I don't want to be a child forever when I grow up, so I stepped back along the footsteps of time, squatted down on my knees and sang in a low voice. I am a child, please don't bully me. I want to have a house, facing the sea and blooming in spring. I carefully guard my deep desire, just like guarding a broken crystal cup. I always hide my true thoughts in deep water. I laugh every day until everyone says with satisfaction, look, I say you are happy.

Children who like to look up at the gray sky on cloudy days. Many nights, I want to shed a tear. A cloudy day unfolds, a leaf falls and an autumn falls. A child got lost. I can't go back. The black wind passing through the hall, cold and sticky, is eroding my skin inch by inch. I sing that I am a good boy, and I want to make progress every day, even if it is lightning, strong wind and earthquake. But God gave me a cloudy day. In this tepid weather, I just want to wrap the quilt tightly and say, I want to have a good sleep.

Occasionally, fireworks cut through the night sky outside the window, lonely and empty.

It turns out that it is so simple to make me happy, so simple that people want to laugh and cry.

I like healthy fatigue, because it can prove that I live a full life, I am not numb or indifferent, I am a happy and upward boy. I think I am the most docile of all the lambs to be slaughtered. I suddenly feel like a puppet, playing all the joys and sorrows, but there are always countless shiny silver silk threads on my back, even a gesture to manipulate me.

From tomorrow on, read and write, and be a simple good boy.

Most of the time, my mood becomes very bad. I always inexplicably feel a burst of sadness floating over every nerve ending, and then I become unhappy. I see my eyes getting dimmer every day in the mirror, and I'm scared. But the days passed like this. I'm afraid to face the huge darkness alone at night, and I'm afraid I'll cry timidly. This state scares me. Don't go to the doctor, I'm really ill. I think I must not fall. It's been a long time. So many people just say that I have become indifferent and arrogant. I know I look haggard. My eyes are sunken and my face is pale.

I haven't had company for a long time. I feel sore all over when I think about it, and I feel like a child forgotten by the whole world. My tears finally fell. It was a long-awaited catharsis, an unscrupulous fireworks, so I cried and exhausted all my strength. I cried like a child. Finally, I was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep. I want these words to take away the black sadness accumulated in my heart and all the reasons and excuses that make me angry. Really, if I don't vent, I think I will be completely destroyed-really destroyed, from the inside out, completely crushed into powder, and then blown away by the wind. And my hysterical anger has gradually turned into a faint, subtle sadness, just like before, which is my favorite state. I can be sad, but I can't be sad forever.

If the hands on the clock don't stop, we will go on. It's a mistake to stay where you are. We should keep saying goodbye to some people and things, and then keep chasing the wave of homelessness.

It is unique, so I like it.

[Go your own way. I am a person who gives up easily, so I will seal off all my retreat. After I finally blocked all the exits, I stood on the edge of the cliff. I told myself that you are now the last battle, and you must turn back. I can't write the words I want, which drives me crazy. ]

This time, I really have no choice. 20080 1 1 1 18:08]

A person is easily moved by what he writes.

I'm not a good decision maker, really. I always put things off until I have to explain, and then I start to think about everything in front of me. I think I need the constant blow of life to fill me with clear pain and keen touch on this land. That autumn, I felt like I was living alone. I stood up like a hedgehog, piteously and persistently defending myself.

Some people say that I am stubborn [not laughing] and scary.

Your writing is too cold. Write warmly, or others will be afraid. In fact, you are a very simple person, only occasionally lonely. Just because a leaf falls off doesn't mean the whole forest has fallen off. Try to be happy, no one in this world is against you.

For a long time, I felt that everything was psychedelic, because what I wanted so much really fell from the sky, right in front of me, and it was an unbearable great happiness.

I looked at these with my eyes wide open. I almost want to stuff everything into my head and turn everything into that thin, thin and bright film and put it in my head. I don't think I will forget it.

Second, The End of the Summer Solstice

Leave, make everything simple, give everything a reason to be forgiven again, and let's start over.

The shadow behind him was suddenly split. Just like when people die, the soul leaves the body, and there is a kind of trance-like sadness and unknown fear.

In Zhang Xiuqing, a child's face is expressionless, as if it were stained by the snow on the ground. When he looks at people, his eyes are always full of fog, and he speaks slowly, as if he is indifferent to everything.

I'm not lonely, I'm just a person. I am the only one in my world. Busy enough. ]

Time didn't wait for me. You forgot to take me.

Because there is no hope, there will be no disappointment.

I often wonder if my choice was right or wrong. I will feel deep fear when I think about it in the future. The future is too long and too far away. I still can't see clearly with my eyes wide open. I don't want my life to go on like this, get married and have children in a vulgar way, and then grow old day by day. If life is really like this, then I would rather die in my most youthful and beautiful years. Full of mutual destruction. Maybe you're going to call me extreme again. But I would rather my life is a short and dazzling fireworks than an endless and inconspicuous dim oil lamp. So every time I think about it, I will be full of courage again.

In a lonely world, in a silent world, you can also talk to someone, which is the only comforting color in a pale life.

No matter how far apart we are, there will still be the same starry sky overhead, so we will never feel lonely at any time.

I can sleep alone without fear.

I will never think of you like this again. I will never be so worried about your fate again.

Finally, I will stay alone, stand on the empty land and cry sadly.

Those long dark nights, only your smile can illuminate it. Those cold storms, only your coat can make me hide safely, like a squirrel, completely unaware of the storm outside the tree hole. In those fragile moments, only your hug can give me strength. In your arms, those seemingly irresistible blows will gradually subside.

Third, "Say good night at dawn"

[Pink Floyd]

I am not a gloomy child, but I still have despair in my heart. Only when I see a distorted oil painting in my ear and a strange face with pain on a strange road, when I pick up the phone but don't know who to call and finally put it down gently, will I see the black hidden in my heart surging out of my chest and wandering into a black river before my eyes.

I looked up at the sky and saw only birds flying around in panic, their wings drawing lonely voices in the sky.

Some people will suddenly disappear, and some people will be imprisoned in a small place for life.

The simpler the face, the more hidden the story. I only see their lonely backs, as if to say goodbye.

Where were you when I was injured? Where were you when I was desperate? Because what you say and do surrounds me. I stared straight at the dazzling sun.

I looked up and saw the color of the sky. I thought the way I used to make public, the edges and corners on my body, would never appear again.

Looking at the quiet and empty room, I was vaguely sad.

I only heard the loud roar when the plane took off. The sound fell from the sky and hit my skull.

Sing freely until dawn.

I wanted to stop, but I didn't know what to do, so I kept walking blindly. I just walked around that night until dawn, full of sadness and no direction. I stopped when the light penetrated the sky. I looked up and said good night to the sky, but that good night rose into the air and fell down again, because I had no wings and could not fly. Say good night to the whole world and finally fall down and hit me alone.

If one day you see a child carrying a black mountaineering bag at a subway station, railway station or roadside, a child with clear eyes but a lonely smile, please try to call me by my name, call me Morning Tree, and I will turn my head and smile at you, and then say, please take me home.

An endless expanse of desert. Occasionally there will be a tree standing alone in the distance, lonely and helpless.

If you give me a tear, I will see all the oceans in your heart.

I've been on the road all my life, walking until I can't walk, I fell down and died quietly.

Simple and calm, like a landscape painting between splashing ink and meticulous painting.

One day, the stars will fall on you.

Stranger, please stop your hurried steps. I don't know you, but I can understand your lonely posture when carrying a mountaineering bag. I know you've been walking and never stopped. You want to find the long-awaited post station in your life. Maybe it's a warm look, a bright smile, or a generous chest that can shelter from the wind. Pear flower falls is full of shoulders. But when you can't find it, please let me give you a place to rest, because I know you are very tired. I know your pure wish, that is to find a warm place to sleep.

Sometimes I like crowded places inexplicably, such as shopping malls and subway stations. I like the living conditions of ordinary people, full of secular noise and boring fragrance. However, I always can't fit in. I always look up at the silent sky warmly, and then hear the lonely sound of birds flapping their wings. The joys and sorrows around me, the parting of life and death are all the excitement of others, and my loneliness is killing each other in the dark and humid underground cave.

Write it down just to forget.

-a person, alone on the road.

There are dark corners in my heart.

I know, just like the saddest bird in the legend. Yes, a bird without feet flies to death and never stops.

I wanted to tell them many things, but I forgot all the languages.

One year's old events, one day without a day, one autumn after another, one generation urges the next, one gathers and one leaves, one is happy and the other is sad. Lying on the sofa, dreaming all my life. Find a group of acquaintances, get to know each other for a while, play once and sing once.