4 Gibberish

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Nonsense

A few days ago, I lost a mint leaf. Today, I picked a maple leaf. Not bad, right?

I didn’t drink today, but I couldn’t stop getting drunk.

I always tend to guess what others are thinking and then try to cater to them. It’s really tiring.

The root of suffering is that the people you care about don’t care, and what you think is important is just a joke to others.

I always set our relationship higher than reality. Is it because you don’t understand me or I don’t understand you?

Using the same expression for a long time will inevitably annoy people. Don’t take yourself too seriously…

The teacher said that sensitive people are emotionally fragile and easily hurt. I think I am not sensitive.

So yellow-flowered vegetables are actually forget-worry plants…

The reason why I’m upset is that there are too many things I don’t understand, but I don’t want to accept other people’s thoughts. Am I sick?

Unintentionally, I entered your world & unintentionally left this world. I don’t know which one is real, falling seriously ill.

I don’t remember the last time I cried. Will tears accumulated in the heart really melt it?

I used to always think how nice it would be to find someone who understands me, so I often recited “I want to pour out my heart to the Yaoqin, but there are few who can understand, when the string breaks, who is listening.” Now, I haven’t recited it for a long time. I am looking for someone who can listen to me, but I prefer “Endless admiration, only Jingting Mountain”.

I still remember what a classmate wrote about me in the middle school yearbook: always theoretical and lacking practice. Looking back now, it’s true. I’m just pretending!

In the past two months, I have been dreaming about some classmates from primary school, middle school, and high school from time to time. I wake up with a mix of nostalgia and annoyance. I hope everything is well…

I have been talking a lot recently. I wonder when I will learn to smile without saying a word.

Some things I always feel like I have let go of, but I actually carefully keep them in my heart.

My memory is really bad. I’m afraid it’s like what my English teacher said: I’m just one turn away from forgetting you. I really want it to be like what my English teacher said: I’m just one turn away from forgetting you.

On one hand, we despise bad food, but on the other hand, we enjoy it. What are we thinking?

The years are getting cooler, and lovesickness is growing. Holding a green plum in hand, leaving a hint of fragrance in the heart; dew lightly fluttering, wetting the thin clothes, dressing up beautifully for a strand of black hair, getting drunk in a foreign land.

It turns out we are not from the same world. We can’t connect, we can’t think the same, we can’t do the same. I have always been here, are you?

In the evening, I lean against a lone village, about to find a place to rest, but the drizzle penetrates my skin. I end up in a farmhouse, the wind blowing across the fields turns into poetry. This journey was originally to thank for the recovery from illness, who would have thought I would become even more enamored. I am fortunate enough to ask the old venerable if I still need the old medicine for the new illness.

I started leaving messages for everyone, one a day, and I deleted the ones I didn’t know.

I think about the people I’ve met, most of them start off talking about everything, but gradually we lose contact and it’s like we have drifted apart. Maybe we got tired. Two people once asked me what being tired means, and I think it means getting too sweet or having too much. Doesn’t it?

Actually, I still want to be able to walk with an oil-paper umbrella one day, leisurely stroll through the rivers and lakes of the South, but where is Jiangnan?

It always annoys people when you speak out what others are thinking.

If you are tired, you can lean on my shoulder; but if I am tired, where should I lean on?

Watching a play from the audience, the actors seem to be close and far away from you at the same time, but no matter the distance, there is always a stage separating you, isn’t there?

I! Just! Don’t! Understand! Why! There! Are! So! Many! Things!

I wonder how many words in this life are insincere.

I hate the coldness behind the warmth.

June 4, 2014

「Donation Given, Fragrance in Hand」

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