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我们去画画吧,一个人的时候画线条,想念你的时候画油彩,我们相遇正是青春少年时,我们去画画吧,你说好啊,都这么多年了,画画早已经成为一种习惯。我试着想象幸福的样子,望着他一直找寻我想要的,陪着一个想陪的人,一起高兴,一起悲哀,重复无聊的事情不觉乏味,只是在偶然间发现也许这只是个美丽的错误。苍白的天空,无言的哀怨,离别的伤痛,袭人的寒气,魔术般侵入我的心田。凌乱的地面,悬空的画纸,空旷的画室,仿佛一切即将消退。我不知道为什么心痛,为什么心痛到无言。静静地望着天空。
Let’s draw a picture. When a person draws a line, when you miss your time, we paint a painting. When we meet is a young boy, let’s draw a picture. You say yes. All these years, drawing has long become a Habit. I try to imagine the happy look, looking at him looking for what I want, with a want to accompany people, happy together, sad together, boring things do not feel boring, but by chance found that this is just a beautiful mistake. Pale sky, plaintive sadness, parting pain, cold people hit, magic invaded my heart. Messy ground, dangling paper, empty studio, as if everything is about to recede. I do not know why the heartache, why the heartache to speechless. Quietly looking at the sky.