Joke Collection Website - Mood Talk - Time flies, time flies, how to write?
Time flies, time flies, how to write?
Time flies, days pass like an hourglass, and the same days are still evolving. Time is like a movie, the beginning is exciting, but the end is always tragic.
I came into this world naked. Although I have experienced many vicissitudes, people can't escape this robbery. I will go back naked. Life is like a comedy and a tragedy. Time goes by at an unimaginable speed. If you count carefully, I have passed more than 4000 days. Time passed without shadow, sound and nothing, and gradually disappeared into the clouds. In retrospect, it seems like yesterday.
Time flies, most of my life has passed, and I can't go back to the previous time. They hide from you like hide and seek. What is past, past and past? It used to be just a joke, and it evolved rapidly. Day and night, running around at three o'clock and one line, leaving not much. Looking through the diary, time really flies. Apart from the one-year-old firecrackers, the spring breeze sends warmth into Tu Su. How many one-year-olds have I lost? How much time is left? Who knows? Who stole the time? Time really flies, and I can't stay. The hourglass of life has flowed away more than half. What should I do with the rest of my life? Is it plain boiled water, flavored sugar water, or a ups and downs ride?
Life is full of waves, too spectacular, but some people's lives are dull and boring, and they have not done anything meaningful for so many hours. In a daze, time passed in laughter and crying, and life didn't have much meaning to stay in the second half of my life, and I didn't leave too many traces.
Time flies. After that, willows wither, swallows wither and peach blossoms wither, and they will all come back. But once life is gone, it will never come back. Too soon.
Go wherever you go, and come wherever you come; What's the hurry between going and coming? When I get up in the morning, two or three sunsets shoot into the hut. The sun has feet, and it has moved gently and quietly; I also follow the rotation blankly. So-when writing, the days pass by the desk; When painting, the days pass from the tip of the pen; When playing the piano, through the melodious voice. I realized that he was in a hurry. When I reached out to cover him, he passed by the covered hand again. It was dark, I was lying in bed, and he flew away in his dream. When I opened my eyes and saw the moon again, another day passed. I can't help but look up and think, but the shadow of a new day passes me through the gap between the sky and the white clouds.
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