Float in the fallen leaves above water

Float in the fallen leaves above water
Through under the tree, the surface of water that a beach has not been done, is bleaching a fallen leaf. It is not windy, it is still sultry. The heart but the slight one is cold. There is one kind of wonderful feelings, floated in the leaf above water originally, it is such a state, in the stranded water, as the person not sleeping at the night. Not closing season, does not close the trials and hardship, only for the mental state.
At this moment, the surrounding area is calm. Those lamplight at a distance, hang dimly in the night. There are no stars, there is not the moon, the sound of having no river to trickle. Time is just in instant, stay cool.
The life is that one section makes persons like hating, the years moved people again. If one feeling, one promise one other posture forever, lock, joyful? Move? Grieved?
In other words, on every turn or every corner in life, at your aware or not aware moment. A lot of things, float over in this way.
This is a true story. I use " the story " A word should be inaccurate, because not excellent plot. But I seem not to find the more suitable wording, from. The sea, my classmate. Do well. Sew and study, because the family circumstances are too poor. Mother's brain is in disorder, father is straightforward and good-natured, but he is very clever, grow quite handsome. Perhaps, this, the definition of misplacing.
At this moment, it is a leaf to describe him, it should be a longer new leaf in autumn. Season, temperature, the environment, fall apart completely. But true when there are branches. Wind come over, flicker ceaselessly, by oneself.
One day met. Have made the girl friend. Go shopping, smoke, drink, the gambling is the activity of one day. Chat, has told a thing of playing about the wine to me. Learn to drink beer for the first time, because that is sour, sour and sour strange smell. Feel deceived by the advertisement. See his still very angry expression, then carve, I think indistinctly, some things are changing, but can not say what it is on earth.
Everything, change with the environment. The sea, too so. As unseasonable as that slice, the leaf flickering ceaselessly, has gone through the trials and hardship, has gone through and struggled, have gone through others' unusual eyes. Then begin to have one's own imagination and view. Perhaps, this is a kind of extreme, in other words, is that one kind is helpless.
After that time, no good-bye, have not got in touch with either. Drift in different cities, is all busy with the livelihood alive each. By now, should have 20 years. Seldom remember, young friendship, so go lightly in the middle. Up to time.
Several years ago, had phoned to go home. From neighbour's mouth, pick up some about his odds and ends accidentally: Have changed several girl friends. Have been to several cities. People look more handsome. The dancing posture is jumped very well Just, what is done concretely? No one knows, including his parents.
He at this moment, the stranger seems, the picture floats in a leaf above water. There are no roots, there is no direction. Does no one know too, is he thinking what it is?
I can only carry and think: He is lonely, enjoyed. It is like a drop of grains of sand. Keep on vacillating, does not belong to controlling oneself at all times. Beyond the control of, control oneself, indulge, control oneself, getting happy to control oneself, sad to control oneself. Should shower of sea water, sunshine shine, due to company of the bright cloud, can't do without the accompanying of the shell again.
He, perhaps, is still still that leaf. Just, in the face of that dry brook, what is stored to have a sentimental attachment for? Even if destined to descend slowly and lightly on some day, want you to see, float on the gentle surface of water such as a boat going freely, all these are the dream, yearn for too. Then chosen to leave. Because has misplaced in season and environment, so, chose way definitely, left the tree, it is a kind of extreme. Because against the wind, the behavior is an extreme.
Flash, pass by in a lot of years. Today, it is season when a fresh peach is listing. Soft, it is cool, fragrant and fragrant, very captivating.
While eating peaches that day, the ones that vomited were nuclear, jumping on the ground, such as the dancer of one millennium, pull out the mind of touching me slowly. Remember, he has given a peach-pit to me, has worn with a red line after air-drying. A wooden pearl has hung.
I make a phone call and go home, greet mother. By the way ask the news about him.
I, have regretted. Had better not should ask!
Just like some distance, beautiful to grow in other shore forever. Like a mythology not old. If you reach, see clearly. The one left is disappointed, helpless, or sentimental.
One falls leaves, too so. As it appears in front of you in the form of picture, you will think that is bright-coloured, that is an artistic conception, that is eternity. As you really pass by, meet that float in the yellow leaf above water. You, does the one that ignore pass by? Keep and sigh with deep feeling emptily?
Mother says: It I wonders to be the city, he in one dance hall, have a fist fight after being drunk, fight severely injured. To what extent serious: The doctor says, can't say, can't move either, already one month
Mother in sorry a while, still unavoidable to to me, say some principle to conduct oneself and guide of road. Right, then my head carves and pesters some things, then a blank
The external world, the enticement during that time, real, a play too. Unless you give your whole attention to it, can imagination that soak originally, banish dark night wantonly, exhaust, is drained. Wind get up, turn round, launch that section once, completely transfer to original anticipation, then the way in life, has begun the earth-shaken difference.
He, or has got back to the world that belongs to him. Perhaps, at the beginning of in life, being destined, he is only a drop of grains of sand. If abandoned in a drop of grains of sand of city on the edge all of a sudden. Belong to city, belong to sea water, control oneself still more. Now, having walked in a circle in this world, stopped his step at last, the voice together with him. Ways used are too cruel.
Fallen leaves are that one kind is a kind of destiny too naturally. How about and him? Is there my memory?
In Wang Xiaobo's book, once had such description: One's memory and memory, the ones that look like and does not move at all lie at the bottom, the leaves that see on surface of water and some things float over, float over in this way.
Now, my memory, can stay at last, floated in this on green leaves above water. Perhaps, do not have a real meaning. But I, can't indifferently it of the temple
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