随笔。

this is my truth,tell me yours

The pebble flown into the air,my little kick.
In the world bounded by the fence known as myself.
Left alone,indifferent,a complete stranger.
But i know,there are more.
Even if all the broken pieces are picked up and matched.
There is no black or white.
The organs that are revealed under the tender skin.
Do not reveal the truths,but merely the facts.
Yet still the blackened heart.
Pumps such colourful blood,into every details of life.
And it orders you "be yourself"
My conscious.
Slides into the apple abandoned on the table.
Curled up in the frosty but lukewarm wood.
On the chair,on the floor,across the wall.
Between the scars of the plastic tray.
Into the greasy stain on the portfolio case.
The squarely-shaped room,it beats,expanded and contracted,perhaps it is breathing.
Melting,clingy.
As if it were a cubism painting.
However,the subtle pain and touch on my toe.
Connects myself to now.
Glancing up,the sky is sheer blue,overflowing sunlight,children's laughter echoing.
And i know.
Life is always beautiful.
This is my truth, so tell me yours?

天空。

我是人间惆怅客，知君何事泪纵横。

草原之上。