Everyone has such a fairy tale hidden in their hearts, but only the lucky few have the real chance to write life into a fairy tale. This requires one to be held by a pair of warm hands who understand the melody, and a Winnie the Pooh held in the other hand. The shadows from high to low are drawn together on the ground. Walking in the barren or noisy fields or streets, the gentle melody naturally flows into the heart. In an instant, it is like butterflies dancing in the snow, taking advantage of the typhoon and rain to play adventure games... The hands you trust are holding you, so happiness is like a stream that has opened its gates, rushing like silver moonlight, soaking in the dark night, making people feel Can't tell the difference between reality and imagination.
Who is unwilling to look forward to peace in the midst of war, and who is willing to be ordinary in the midst of plainness, no matter in which era, there is a "war" that must be experienced, and there is also a fire that is unwilling to be plain. The so-called hope is to hold the two or one who is destined to be with your heart for a lifetime, and walk through the sunshine-filled woods in the fairy tale again, even if it is just a barren or noisy field or street, as long as you are theirs. Only, as long as you believe in each other's original intentions. You must have heard these cries in your heart, they are the source of strength and the source of life.
No matter how much wisdom or cleverness there is, everyone can't fill their own heart holes. The track of time is winding, passing through the row upon row of city shells, winding forward tirelessly, these holes grow slowly in the heart, Only the sound of the wind echoed in the cave. Lucky people, have hope, try to love in return, fill those holes with joy and sorrow, and try to fill the ones they love.
But the track of time is long and sneaky, without end, no one can escape the wind of the times whistling in their respective holes, even the lucky ones full of hope, holding the endless strength and the courage of life, can not escape the long time hole in there.
However, lucky people can always think of the rustling sunlight passing through the leaves, casting shadows from tall to short, pulling them together on the ground. So continue to hold the hand of the loved one and walk in the fields or streets that belong to them.
No one knows what those holes look like, or even how the wind echoes in the heart of his dearest person. Time has weathered these holes, and the sound of the wind never stops. Although it can't be repaired, time also brings those forests and streets into each other's hearts, and then the warm, sweet, innocent and soft melody naturally reveals this voice - you It is the irreplaceable one on this road. Since then, this voice has become the name of the hole and the reason to be loved.
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