Its beautiful dreams are a kind of beauty that has never been seen before or even thought of. Everything expands like the universe, and at the same time it condenses in the thick glaciers. — Murakami Haruki
We live on a hillside, very close to the water. We ate in the dark and slept deep in the wet corner. In the silent night, we doubt each other, doubt whether it is true in front of us, and doubt whether the choice can last forever...
Put it in a glass jar and hold it carefully with your hand. Go through the swamp and through the thorns. The vicious beast wants to rob it, and we fight desperately, even if it is defeated. We firmly believe that victory will not be sweating, and time will not be lost. This is the fate of the dream catcher.
On several nights in life, we have been awake, sharing and passing on each other. Here, the blood of the dream continues. We shuttled in the most stinky and dirty place, and when we look back again, we ask ourselves: "Why are you here?" There is a saying in the heart: "It is already done, and the wind and rain can be done."
How many people in the poor mountains are trapped in it, we reach out to help, and good words persuade their people to continue to sail, but they are attacked by unruly words: "I am tired, I want to go to the beach, this road can not be turned back. ......" Here, I want to say: "Since we got on the boat, drift is fate, why should we land?"
During the journey, we always look up at the starry sky at night, because in this world, everyone will have a moon buried in their hearts, but they don’t know it. Only a very small number of people, in the darkest moments, still let go of the light of the moon, that is the person who perceives himself to be the moon.
We walked from the bumps. When I looked back, I found that I couldn’t see the starting point. I had already taken the first boat. I was no longer dare to take the path that was not difficult. I think that everything can only slowly die out in the burning winds of the years. However, if we look back, we will see that the already dilapidated sailboat has already been full of bright red roads and the purest heart, the most innocent month. At that time, we were the "dream catchers" in the night.
