用脑中记忆感悟生命

What is life? I can not explain the appearance of its characteristics, where it came from, attributable to where I have no way to know. But I know that it is in the hands of our hands to the time approach to the performance of the memory process. The course of this beautiful, only you know the beauty of it.
Life is a process of feeling.
It is to breathe the air at any time, but also to meet that morning to wake up fresh ray of sunshine.
Evening watching the sunset of your home, keep your eyes on the emergence, it is simply the most of your life's true, but if one day, you do not feel it no longer exists, you will not be dark and fear, will not Tianming and jumping, it is life after the feeling of emptiness, a feeling of life gone, it is the beginning of death.
Pen to write out of life, is black. Of course, black and life, and it comes from the darkness, the darkness and finally death. However, the life is colorful, if you break down the black, you will see the beautiful color Xuan.
No matter how you look at life, you will not write the same as the lives of others. Because of carrying the memory of life is the only word to express life. What kind of memory you have on the kind of life.
Life is always a way to draw the trajectory memory.
It is your sun in the spring grasses leaned smooth, warm clothes gradually walk across the whole body feel the smell of grass in your hair, the lake in your memory.
Of poplar in the house swing under the afternoon, in full bloom the Sophorae Ilex face fell, my world is full of mottled shadows, the sun hid behind the leaves, I went to the garden to find the sun, It is so dazzling, red-glass window, so I damaged the lens.
Wind fall fruit bushes, red dragonfly flying in the sunset, yellow flower into the winter jasmine. The snow is real, is a cold rain, tears, sweat all have been, this is what life is really in the hands of the feeling that you have, I know that.
What is the meaning of life, it is not I am the great and deep, it is also warm your hands feel.
Is not it? What is the What?
Daily life is dull existence as a result of your memory.

生命是什么?我没有办法说清它的外貌特征,它来自何处,归于何方,我都无从知道。但我知道它是我们握在手中,以似有似无的时间方式来表现的记忆历程。这个美丽的过程,只有自己知道它的妙处。
生命是一个感受的过程。
它是我们随时可以呼吸的空气,也是早晨醒来迎接的那一缕清新的阳光。
傍晚看着你回家的夕阳,在你的眼前不断的出现,它是你生命中最纯粹的真实,不过,如果某一天,你再也感觉不到它的存在了,你不会因为天黑而恐惧,也不会因为天明而雀跃,那是生命里虚空后的感觉,生命里感觉的逝去,那是死亡的开始。
拿出笔写下生命,是黑色。当然黑色与生命有关,它来自于黑暗,又终于黑暗的死亡。然而,生命该是七彩的,如果你分解黑色,你就会看到美丽的绚彩。
不论你怎么看待生命,你都不会写出和别人相同的生命。因为承载生命的记忆,是表达生命的唯一文字。你拥有怎样的记忆,就拥有怎样的生命。
生命总是以记忆的方式划出轨迹。
它是你在春天的阳光中斜靠的光滑禾草,温热隔着衣衫渐渐游走全身的感觉,草的香味留在你的发丝里,淀在你记忆里。
在屋后的杨树下荡着秋千的下午,有盛开满树的槐花落在脸上,我的世界里充满了斑驳的树影,阳光躲在叶子后面,我跑到园子里寻找太阳,它是那么刺眼,窗台上的红玻璃,做了我破损的镜片。
风中的果子落在草丛,红色的蜻蜓飞在晚霞,黄色的迎春花插进花瓶。雪是真实的,雨是冰凉的,泪水,汗水都曾有过,这是什么,是在手的生命真切的感觉,你也有,我知道。
生命的意义是什么,它并不是我所言的伟大与深沉,它就是你手中还温热的感受。
难道不是吗?那又该是什么?
就是平淡生活每天由于你而存在的记忆。

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