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Smiling because of you.
The feel of a well-worn leather journal in my hands—pages filled with half-finished poems, grocery lists, and random thoughts—reminds me that life’s beauty lies in the messy, unpolished moments.
Sometimes, I talk to my plants, telling them about my day; they don’t answer, but seeing them grow feels like they’re listening.
People from the end of the world, solitary geese Cangshan, the years covered by the wind and sand, the willows and flowers, burning flowers, light clear sorrow, is also so vast. The comer is a guest, go to the person but the injury, bustling if the west wind, red hair in a hurry. Gazebo ancient road, evening wind green flute, who watch, who melancholy, also with the string broken qin chaos of the world drunken dream!
Fading is real, blooming is just a past.
Excited heart, trembling hands, finally got the driver's license
As long as the heart is not chaotic, it is difficult for the outside world to change you. Remember: don't envy others, don't lose yourself.