In the years I had been silent for many years, it stretched out a claw and scratched it, as if it wanted to explore. Then I began to roar and roll in the stagnant lake. A photo, a photo that only belongs to me, I always think that the most bohemian things in this world are time and wind moon, because they cannot be artificially imprisoned and bound, but sometimes I find that time can actually be imprisoned by photos, but it is not really imprisoned. Every time I see that photo, the memory in my mind will keep moving fast. I always feel that the people in the photo have already gone away from me, my thoughts will circling around my heart closely and thickly like the death of silkworms until my heart is bound completely like a pupa, all of a sudden, you will feel a little suffocated and out of breath, as if you feel the feeling of being strangled by someone’s throat, and then you breath heavily after it suddenly lets go. The people in the photo are still laughing and making noise, while at this time I want to cry, but I can’t find an excuse for my vulnerability. I suppress my desire, I touched the person in the photo with my hand, whether I am or not, and I want to cry, what the person in the photo is thinking about in the future, but at the moment, I looked at the photos in the way of memory, so sometimes I thought it was ridiculous and absurd. Suddenly my self-mockery was interrupted. It was a strong wind, which blew my window, I don’t know whether the wind is feelings or thoughts, Did it want to draw my attention to make me realize its existence? I smiled and walked over to open the window to welcome it, but when I opened the window, I found that wind blew by. I stood down from the window and looked at the sparse people walking. I didn’t know where to go. I thought something had been in our life, we also passed by, we loved and hated, but if we really looked for it, there was no news from us. Just like the north wind, we came here, hurriedly passed by, never stopped, and blew to the south.

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