This article was originally deleted.,But I pressed the restore button.,So it's posted!

The philosophical state of mind of life that can't give birth to money, the helplessness of ordinary people, the involvement of cause and effect, and the reality of the personality environment, are really in no mood to write words, but if you don't write, you are more helpless and more wandering, more scars and more haggard, the weak and the poor have no reason to worry, and there is no right to be sad and pessimistic, but the wind and frost spit out to comfort the life of life.

Life is life to survive, there was a person who wrote lyrics, there was a sentence that I was very impressed by, "But if I can survive for one more second, I also need it!"

Damn, it's too short, it's meaningless, it's not interesting. What I didn't expect was that many, many years had passed, and I had relied on it, and this time it was a big one! I actually realized what I needed if I could have one more second!

One more second, thirty seconds, more than ten minutes, more than ten minutes, one moment, one day, all day

Note: Later, I saw that the lyrics were "If I can have an extra second of warmth, I also need it" Wang Jie sang "Love Too Much"

Note: You-Cool-Net shows "Cold Moonlight - Pop Music" sung in the leaves, the words on the other side of the flowers, and the quiet song. A chinoiserie song. I can hear the singing voice that is not smooth enough and not vicissitudes enough, but it is this kind of voice that expresses just right, and it is such the original meaning of the song, which matches the meaning I want. Of course, I would sing better, but it doesn't make sense, a person who needs every second is already a person who is also a broken person at the end of the world, and a fallen person at the end of the world.

The candle shadow is shaking and the night is slightly cool, and it is difficult for Yiren to embroider the mandarin duck on the pillow, and the edge word is like a needle, stinging her appearance.

The story is light and love has been yellowed, who are you crying for and unforgettable, if the past is entangled and cut, there is no complaint.

You wait for dawn outside the city, I am busy for you, the sound of the flute blows off the sorrow, what does it matter if you are light in the next life, you use a city of cold moonlight, haggard tears a few lines, and no regrets on the end of the years stubborn.

I make up red makeup under the candle, you have no intention of looking, your steps are chaotic, what if you are alone? You borrow a city of cold moonlight to explain to me me, where should I hide?

The wind has crossed the river bank and the geese have gone south, the charcoal pen is difficult to describe the wounds under the eyes, and the night wind outside the curtain is desolate, withering a few springs/light. Vermilion lips are dim and love has been vicissitudes, who frowns for you and sighs about the past? If you can't guess through this few things, you will not be forgotten by you.

Call you to borrow a city of cold moonlight to load me, who is sad?" (To be continued......