The second hand of a foot pass, the winter snow and the firecracker skin that once set off all become autumn leaves, spring green autumn huang, just know our feet and the wall hanging clock like, casual of walked very far............. . Tired and not tired, all want tired walk, and can go forward only. No cross road, the end of the journey is doomed to have no end. In this way, the measurement of our feet more long and heavy, life has really gone through.
The minute hand moves over, you'll shock the sun into your bed and warm up your lazy body. You won't sigh that time is slipping away or that you're settling bills that you seem to accept. Generous overdraft happiness, stingy cover up indulgence. The earth and the earth, the twelve chariots, skip across the ravines and the smooth road, but to stay, you have come to the next intersection or the station. Can only watch the night of the old drum morning bell, life is really so moved.
The hour hand walks round and round, when there is love, it is with pain to receive the feeling, when there is no love, it is with emptiness folded into a small paper boat, with the lonely almond flowers scattered to flow, when the waves quiet beautiful scenery, the waves are all around. And there is laughter and anger: laughter at the minute hand, wit, wit, wit, wit, and wit. The minute hand of anger bounces and bounces, but the hour hand is the only thing you have. In the end, you can not be alone, inch by inch of feeling each step of skin care, your starting point is really the end.
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