Be a collection of essays, his prose

Today, out of the house, sunny, breezy, how is suddenly feeling the spring. Walking on the road, surprised to find green grass has been exposed, trimmed the bushes a top life. Distance lush willow river, near the wicker look is the dough is covered with buds. A year really passed, the year is really moving. Sitting quietly in the office, with a sort of expectation, so that my soul fly with a sort of determined to make their own from tomorrow, to be a new year. . .

in the New Year holiday, like a lot.

sometimes think it is very real, like the speck of dust floating in the air, both can not fly and not land. Sometimes feel very real, as was the flying in the time tunnel, back to today's space-time can still see the past glory. Sometimes that struggled to live, and sometimes only a brief moment that year. In the end moment is eternal life, or life time? I'm confused, puzzled at the moment of happiness, the confusion in the bursts of heartache, the confusion in the ever waited, fascinated with the determination from time to time [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the confusion in the giving up time to time. . . whether true or false

rational and emotional edge in the calculation? Drink more, close your eyes, feeling slowly rose on the day, really is immortal it? Opened his eyes, feeling just landed to the ground, really is a dizzy yet?

Whenever I see the fish swimming in the water, unconscious mind will be pleasant [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], because the fish can see the freedom and happiness. But I also like the middle reaches of the cloud. A long time ago, looking at the sky, often doing so pure dream, dream, really, and people just like clouds, like the work to the cloud, middle cloud, like living life. Then left the home, often looking at the gray sky of Nanjing, think of all my dreams turned into the home of the sky, think of me turned into an imaginative of elegant white clouds, I think now that dream is still swimming in the cloud of their own?

present self [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], hangs in his sky, the wind and move with the clouds drift, but not the desired state of the original [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], not the pack on the road also passed through the heart of life left free and rich.

spring, the promise of spring, hope, and strive to be their own, independent, true, happy self.

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