Help me write. Thank you.

I am a person who likes words and sad music; Although, sometimes words will only make me more lonely, although sometimes sad music will only make me cry. Almost all my words have a touch of sadness, and few of them belong to happiness. I also know that my words are not articles at all, but mood monologues. Sometimes, it's more like a person talking to himself, and sometimes it's like talking in his sleep.

Some people say: I like your writing, because there is such a faint sadness in it, just like being touched gently by injury, soaked by tears, and having a sad beauty. Others say: you are really, really temperamental! In fact, my writing has no aura; A lot of times it's like loose sand. Words, like me, can't hide their feelings, so those sad feelings will naturally show between the lines.

I like listening to deep and sad songs, singing sad and affectionate songs, reading sad and beautiful words, and of course I like to connect the most sincere feelings in my heart with bits and pieces. In fact, when the words flow at the fingertips and write a complete chapter, there are dreams, artistic conception, overlapping and infecting each other. It is really impossible to tell whether the heart is really sad or the simple words are sad.

I understand that some people's arrival is a coincidence; Some people are doomed to leave. A relationship with the most intentions and the least intentions. There's nothing we can do. Stretch out your hands, but you can't make a happy gesture.

Accustomed to listening to the sad melody lazily,

Accustomed to a person silently watching sad words, I always feel that the sky is blue, blue makes people feel a little depressed, the night is quiet, quiet makes people want to cry, life is pale, pale makes people feel a little weak, reality is cruel, cruel makes people feel a little sad, clear makes people feel a little hypocritical, and pain makes people feel a little numb. ...

Choose loneliness, choose loneliness, choose to sink, choose to wait. Play a monologue in a person's world that has nothing to do with love, fold up dreams and hopes and send them to tomorrow, let sadness and pain be buried in memory, and cover up all anxiety, helplessness and despair with silence and indifference. ...

One person's hospitality, one person's loneliness, one person's monologue, no gorgeous stage, no sensational audience, no suitable opponent, no perfect dialogue, and I want to make up for all the imperfections with love ... I can also put on a rockhopper gown, paint my face with gorgeous powder, and perform this unsuccessful monologue alone. No flowers, no flowers. It doesn't matter. One person's monologue, one person directing alone, one person performing brilliantly. I hope I can have happiness, forget my role and devote myself to emotion. I release my happiness, sadness and joy in the play. ...

Laugh, laugh sadly and beautifully, cry, cry deeply ... The character is lonely, the opponent does not exist, the dialogue always talks to himself, and the story usually has no beginning and end. However, it was too thorough, immersed in the play, and the dance was enchanting. ...

Perhaps it is this incomplete charm that makes people addicted to it. Broken perfection hurts self-esteem and loses soul, but they still miss it, and they are deeply sorry ... After all, they can't get rid of bathing, can't escape secular desires, can't forget the pain after healing wounds, or maybe it's just loneliness. They will play this lonely role again and again, and they will never stop, ups and downs. ..

It's that the story is so beautiful that people have an illusion of happiness, so that they are addicted to this drama, unwilling to wake up and wait silently. ..

But it feels so real that people think that happiness can really be so simple, but forget that this is a city of lies. Who takes who seriously? This is just a scene. Why lie to yourself? ...

Happiness is actually a fiction, a smile can also be a disguise, and happiness should not be feared. I know that many times the so-called pain is given by myself, but sadness can never be ignored. I watched my best years fade away, but I was still saddened by the past.

Some people say that memory is a disease and sadness is a lifelong disability. I think, let your heart be free! No matter how painful the sadness is, it will surely heal again. ...

Looking up at the sky, the sky is blue, the clouds are white, and I, what color is it?

Standing at the window, closing my eyes and reaching out my hands in the air, trying to catch what I want? For example, the love I lost, such as the persistence and emotion I personally destroyed. ..

What I once ignored or even despised seems so precious now, but I can't have it now. It's really ridiculous to think of myself ... I put aside my arrogant nature, unplug my defensive thorns, and take off my mask of indifference, just for the so-called unswerving love, but I don't know that it is heartbreaking pain ... I want to be open-minded and say that I don't have to live forever, just have it once. Enough to comfort my life. The pain that I can't let go is closely accompanied ... I want to lock my memory out of time and let the last good taste occasionally, but what I can exude is not mellow, but an expired decadent atmosphere. The ubiquitous sadness forced me to face it and look back for the happiness I had mistakenly thought, only to find that it was just an encounter. The so-called commitment I mentioned made me a slave to my feelings without hesitation. So down and out .. It's hard, but it has become a prop in an expensive emotional game. After playing enough, you can get away with it, without giving up or regretting, more thoroughly than before. When I turned around, I left behind a cold back, a false smile and unbearable gentleness. You have to bear the bitterness that you can't get rid of for a lifetime. You looked at yourself numbly and hurried to clean up this chaotic mess. ...

Can't find the right way out, want to go back to the origin, only to find no way back. This kind of feeling is painful, so I am often immersed in fantasy and reality, ice and fire, and I can't extricate myself. An invisible devil hidden in my heart always comes out when I am weak and can't vent my anxiety, irritability, panic, helplessness, sadness and despair. The devil always laughs at my cowardice and get carried away. My kindness, my gentleness and my reason have taken away all my beautiful things and made me crazy and unreasonable, unable to think. I am like an ignorant child, a trembling child who has made a mistake. I just wanted my crystal shoes, but I didn't catch happiness. My foot broke all over the floor and I was bleeding profusely. ...

In the middle of the night, I tore up my sadness, ignited my loneliness, wrapped my loneliness and licked my wound. The only thing that can hold me in this world is my own shadow. I stretched out my left hand and held the warmth of my right hand, but my fingertips touched the deeper loneliness and happiness after missing, slipping through my fingers. I just held my breath. ...

I think loneliness is a feeling. Loneliness can make both hands full of loopholes, or people full of loopholes. ...

Loneliness is just a quiet compromise. Is this good?