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The warm, golden light of the afternoon sun filtered through the windows of my apartment, casting a warm glow on everything, making the ordinary objects look beautiful and the quiet moments feel precious.
Loving the life I have.
Life is a series of small revolutions—choosing joy, choosing kindness, choosing to keep going even when it’s hard.
How many times, looking for the breath of memory into the gap of dreams, see the traces of the past: a river of tobacco, a region of autumn water, across the river looking at the beauty of the instant disappearance. Yellowing diary, writing full of mist, pen turning years, some year, some year, some year did not see your figure.
Can you show me how you built in the fairy Photoshop filter?
There are four kinds of melons in the world, winter melon, watermelon, pumpkin and my pickles
I'm sure I'm getting old, because I'm reminiscing again.