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anemonep · Posted: Sun 18:35, 29 May 2011 Post subject: By the wind, the memory

I turned to look into my past,
the memory of those dying remnant of Egypt,
given me the kind of growth in color and level?

wind dried the track that the rain season, blew the last one die, without leaving any marks. Flickering memories, thoughts mottled, like the notes that Hong venues tend generally not put together into a complete melody. It turned out not to be forgotten by those who regard themselves as the past, has quietly been the wind fell the autumn.
Thus, the heart will beat in that quarter but did not single-stringed melody gaps in the ... ...
Piaoyuan sad memories of the past bit by bit, a little tired of recalling the search of the, but found no longer brought back memories of those who have been blown off. Residues are only fragmented pieces.
the fall, rainy. So of course our life better and more moist and fresh. Even the leaves have become bright red or yellow. Rain into our stubborn tilt of the world, including those who are in a moment of joy and pain can become unclear. Some things are carved with a knife in the heart, because the real pain of it, because seriously cried, so sometimes inadvertently disrupt the mind's still the memory of those who get wet in the rain ... ...
the fall, windy. So even though the pain of those unforgettable taste already changed. You see the wind, fragments of those dying, does it receded past the vitality and bright? The same can not withstand the wind that ravages the memory, can not afford to spend time in the residual heart may be just the point between the subtle fragrance [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], casual sentimental ... ...
memory, like the row of lying on the beach had committed [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], waves swept away, we still can think of this experience, but could not remember the font that crooked. Delicate but you can not catch the emotional feeling of the old, can not be present to fill the void, leaving behind only the memory of some of skinny. If the memory can lie, a lie that I can also interpret some of the more intact, more deeply some. However, the fact denied the assumption that those who can not tell why the little temper, those who are now in retrospect that some naive question, let losing their leaves in the autumn breeze dispersed it
getting in the habit of the forgotten, those who no longer recall one in the past. Perhaps not find a trace of the nerve gap busy the bar, perhaps in these busy times, once the memory was able to run aground. Perhaps [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], only our memories of youth in the memory of a dead, rather than indulge our feelings can not be called.
picked up a piece of the autumn leaves are falling Kazamaki, yellow color [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], vaguely uncertain context, as if also tell who, suddenly aware not to make himself relieved that tangled in the heart of the War.
looked up, overlooking the wind direction, looking down the road, where I did a complete youth, my footsteps scattered in the memory, still clear ... ...