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The evening breeze blows gently, looking up at the crescent moon hanging in the watery sky, my mood is so fresh and clear. For a long time, I have been accustomed to facing the stars alone in the dead of night. It feels like every star in the sky represents every lonely person on the earth. People have turned into stars gathering in the night sky, illuminating and comforting each other.

There are very few stars tonight, and many are hidden in the clouds. Just like some people write loneliness on their faces, while others bury loneliness deep in their hearts. Maybe I belong to the latter, due to my career and wandering. In my unique leisure time, I am used to not returning to the dormitory quickly after working at night. Instead, I linger in the park, thinking and patrolling, passing every security guard. At the post, he smiled at the saluting security guard, casting his figure under the rows of neon lights, and placing his thoughts and fantasies in the silent night.

Inadvertently, you will be reminded of the budding feelings of your youth. That year, under the moonlight, the winding streets between heaven and earth gently echoed with restrained footsteps, but the cool evening breeze sobered up the hot cheeks, the shy and reserved feelings of a young man, and never expressed the tenderness in his heart. Sweet feeling. From the dim alley at night to the brightly lit street intersection, time passed silently. When looking at each other, words seemed redundant. When they smile at each other and leave gracefully, you can feel the affectionate gaze behind them. The figure finally melted into the deepening night in the wind, and entered the young man's slightly sad heart. I once vaguely explored the miracle of "searching for him thousands of times in the crowd, and suddenly looking back, I am in a dimly lit place", but after a long time, I finally realized that there are very few miracles in the world, so I no longer look for the one that belongs only to me in my dreams. Dream thing.

Looking back on the past, like many people, I spent my whole life pursuing the so-called "achievement". Suddenly, when I looked back, I realized that my youth was no longer there, and the mountains and rivers would appear on my once smooth cheeks; it was a pity. In life, most of the time, we often pursue the so-called "love" obsessively. After being hesitant, we taste that it is just a cup of bitter wine. A person's true love is actually himself! Isn't it? If a person doesn’t even love himself, how can he love others?

In the oath of love, the so-called hundreds of thousands of years and even eternity are just beautiful wishes driven by the impulse of the obsessed authorities. In fact, everything will change due to the change of time, place and environment, no matter what It can’t last longer than everyone’s own life. Cherish the present moment and cherish the feelings you already have is the most true thing. Therefore, I used to sneer at the fanatical slogan of "Long Live Love" which is nothing new: at best, "Love is eighty years old and Long Live Love is just a lie!" Isn't it? When life ends, how can love be attached to it? A hundred years of life, a blink of an eye, and being able to fall in love with each other for eighty years is extremely difficult and rare. Speaking of loyalty, what if the romantic Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang Dynasty and the alluring Yang Yuhuan set up the ambition of "being husband and wife for the rest of their lives" in the "Eternal Life Palace on July 7th"? Once the three armies under Mawei slope became restless, How could it not be that Xiangxiaoyuyu fell? And how did that "Great Emperor" ever personally go to heaven and earth to find Yang Aifei who once had "thousands of favors in one body"?

I sigh that time is passing by, but I still don’t know what I should do most in my short life. Only if the feelings of water flow through the long channel of memory from time to time, the water flow will slowly form some imprints of words on the bank of the long channel. Nowadays, the title pages of diaries and articles are like pieces of old dark red maple leaves, showing the distance between a period of time and space in the heart, recording long-lost friendships, and leaving some touchable feelings that are often speechless in the middle of the night. Notch. I once cherished these leaf-like fragments, but they have been relegated to the tender history. A string of words is a sentence from the heart, or a pearl condensed from tears of happiness or bitterness. The words are reflected on the end of the paper, the inner voice is a monologue in the dark night, and those pearls, from time to time, make sounds as if they have fallen into a disk.

I am often moved, by the details in life, and by the things in life that have long since passed away. Many past events are like smoke and smoke, but they disappear in a blink of an eye. How many stories have long since become vague outlines in my memory. Old acquaintances and past events gradually become dusty in the quicksand of time. Time and space have stretched the distance far away, but the long-lost memories are very close. "Sorrows and sorrows accumulate together, and joys and joys are forgotten." I believe that if there is an afterlife, even though I must drink Meng Po soup on the road to reincarnation, I will not forget the beauty that has accumulated deep in my heart.

I think that life is just a passing guest at one life station in this world of mortals. At each station, one has to meet many people and things. After meeting various things for a short time, they are destined to leave with some blessings or happiness, pain, luck, or regret. After leaving, you will face another beautiful or barren scenery, encounter other people or things, and reap and experience the same ending as the last stop over and over again.

Perhaps, when the train of life reaches the next station, I don’t have to start again. A kind of bond, a piece of attachment, may make me willing to be trapped in this corner of the world. May I? But the heart has no reason to be at a loss, because people are always chasing dreams in beautiful fantasies, using a lifetime of thinking and a lifetime of efforts to prove the actual value of their own life. Life is a long river, and the boat of life is born to be a carrier on the flowing water. No one can ever stop midstream.

In the middle of the night, I look at the sky dreamily, clinging to a lonely place, my thoughts are like huge wings spread out. I am not a wise man, I just want to understand the meaningless life. Do you understand? I guess I still don't understand. What if you understand it? Just like the structural relationships of molecules, electrons, and atoms described in physics, humans are destined to never be able to escape from the life trajectory that has been delineated in the dark! But at this moment, this body seems to have turned into nothingness, and only the monologue of the soul is the dawn of self-awakening.

I have been immersed in these thoughts for a long time, and I really hope that tonight’s dream will be like this new moon, like a hook in the sky and like water. But at this moment, I am grazing freely in the wilderness of my heart. My heart is like a bird, hovering in the sky of my thoughts, unwilling to fly away for a long time...