1每天,都坐在这张桌子面前,想想,已经十几年。看书,写字,平静又平静的春夏秋冬。酸甜苦辣的现实与非现实,独自品味。此刻,秋色已褪,未入冬,纸上的歌唱,似乎还在寒冷的上一个季节,没有温暖,一直挣扎,寂寞的灵魂,寂寞地写字,不停。深秋,天气美好的惊异,大片的阳光照射,恍惚。知道这可能是今年最后的温暖了,金黄色。2房间,温暖。窗外,孩童的叫喊,惊醒了我的幻想。天气干燥。像枯竭的写字状态。 1 every day, are sitting in front of this table, think about it, has more than ten years. Reading, writing, calm and quiet spring, summer, autumn and winter. Sweet and sour reality and unrealistic, alone taste. At the moment, autumn has faded, not into the winter, singing on paper, it seems that is still cold last season, no warmth, has been struggling, lonely soul, lonely to write, stop. Late autumn, the weather astonished, large sunshine, trance. Know this may be the last of this year’s warm, golden yellow. 2 rooms, warm. Outside the window, the child shouts and awakens my fantasy. The weather is dry. Like a dry state of writing.