相传世间有一种生物，名蜉蝣。也名夜夜老 ，它一梦之间，便是结束，一梦醒来 ，也是另一个开始的延续 。它似浮生，是世间可望之物，也是世间皆可忘之物 ，蜉蝣，醉在朝生暮死，而我也愿一段记忆似蜉蝣 ，把曾经的曾经变成未来的开始。我欲成蜉蝣，能在你的浮生，睡一段很短很短的梦。若我醒来，愿有人在我的开始等候另一段故事的开启 。——题记
如今落叶堆积了好几层，我又踏过这年 ，来到小时候，被青苔覆盖的石阶，只是那被旧了的月光 ，从当初的温柔，现在逐渐偏冷。记忆的碎片，是融入时光的尘埃 ，却起不了一丝涟漪 。
下一个烟花，绽放在梦之前。除了你，繁华也要沉默在梦中 。而这场梦，在夜中得到延续 ，不过，也只是一时的珍藏。因为那留不住的悲伤，值不得别人去羡慕。
我以为这一生都在执着你的方向 ，可现在我只能猜测，谁停留在你的红尘，而谁又曾路过你的红尘 。因为往昔的词曲已经说尽 ，现在就算执手也只能是无言。
冷雨过后，浮生颓了春意，那一地的花香 ，似在告诉我们，是曾经繁华，还是现在凄凉，都会一念惶惶 ，陈旧不可皆望。
当往事一一消散，谁的梦还能在故事的尽头徘徊 ，不肯离去 。如果这浮生注定蹉跎，能不能让我轻手为你抹去眉间的哀愁。
我们都曾经念着一世长安 ，可最后，是希望，也是失望，是忘 ，亦是不忘 。
拉开记忆的序幕，看见你绽放的微笑，若当初我们向山海宣战 ，如今我们是不是可以十指紧扣，感受彼此怀抱的温度。只可惜，窗外的我 ，已经没有了等待，再也不会衡量地久天长是多远了。
这红尘，能不能憩息一刻 ，毕竟走得太久，总会累 。天空划落的雨点，。跌碎了我的思念。
韶华的声音很短暂 ，还没有来得及鉴赏，就已经消散在耳畔 。
而走过的这一段路，便知道 ，这浮生也只是一场大梦，没有所谓的望或不望，因为 ，梦醒终会落尽旧景。若梦中未能相识，就醒来何必说相守，这春意谢后 ，还有夏风悠然。
我执笔懵懂 ，还在傻傻写着美好，却不知这浮生峥嵘，只让人做一场幻梦而已。所以不再怕红线的长短 ，绕不过指尖，得不到白首 。因为梦或不梦，都一样，梦醒后还是要继续彷徨。
而如今的我愿意站在人潮里 ，淹没记忆的悲伤。就算这浮生未能如意，我还是可以放手且看归路 。
若梦如浮生 ，真的醒不来，就让我死在你的梦中。只是这参不透的红尘，我一直在挑灯夜读。等一世无双的你来给我解说 ，这弱水有多重，为什么我取不起你的一瓢 。
轻笑几声 ，最后我把门关上，还有那被月光斑驳的西窗，今夜 ，梦来不来，都无所谓，我落笔在纸上 ，以残词吊唁那死去的岁月：
夜色点月明，再把风景览尽，待旧忆。空回望 ，情不在，怕是苍天多捉弄。从此，浮生如梦 ，可望皆可忘！
There is a creature in the world. Also name gnight, there is a dream between it, it is end, a dream is awake, and it is another start. It is like a life, it is the best thing in the world, and it is also a thing in the world. He is in the world, and I am also willing to memorize, and I have turned the beginning of the future. I want to be a blends, I can sleep in your life, sleep a short dream. If I wake up, I hope some people will wait for another story to open. - Inscription
Explanation distant, is the end of the fate, or it is still a good start.
Nowadays, they have stacked several layers. I have been in this year. When I came to a child, the stone stepped by moss was just the old moonlight, from the original gentle, now gradually be cold. The memory of memory is the dust that is incorporated into time, but it can't stand up.
Next fireworks, bloom before the dream. In addition to you, bustling is also silent in the dream. And this dream, continuing in the night, but it is just a treasure. Because the sadness can't stay, the value must not be envied.
The month is like listening to the chanting of the wind, but he heard the walled wooden fish, and she kept hitting. It seems that I didn't let it go.
I thought this life was persistent in your direction, but now I can only guess, who stays in your red dust, and who has passed your red dust. Because the past words have been said, it can only be speechless now.
After the cold rain, the floating is a spring, the flowers in that place, seem to tell us that it is bustling, still desolate, will be ignorant, old is unworthy.
A roll of the West Hall, writing the fade of the fade, if there is no more refreshing, this presence, whether we forgot or not forget?
When the past is dissipated, who is still in the end of the story, not willing to leave. If this is destined, can you let me easart for you?
Always inadvertently, stop your eyesThe eyes, rubbing gentle sparks, since then, met beautiful.
We have all read Changan, but in the end, it is hope, and it is also disappointed, forgetting, and don't forget.
Kalessed the order of memory, saw the smile you bloom, if we declare war to the mountains, however, we can do ten fingers, feel the temperature of each other. Unfortunately, I have no waiting, and I will never measure how far the long-term long-term long.
This red dust can be relied, after all, I have been going too long, I will always be tired. The sky is rounded,. A broken my thoughts.
Yuhua's voice is very short, has not come and appreciates, and has dissipated in the ear.
I want to use a memory of a bowl of drunk dreams, and a dream.
After walking, I know that this life is just a big dream, there is no so-called hope or not, because the dream will end out of the old scene. If you can't meet you in your dreams, you will wake up, you will say it, this spring, there is also the summer winds.
The choice of the ending is who the fate is singing this world loneliness. Don't stay in the past, I will wait for the red dust in this life.
I went to understand, still stupid writing, but I don't know this floating, only people do a magic dream. So no longer afraid of the length of the red line, but the fingertips, you can't get the white head. Because dreams or dreams, all the dreams are still going to continue.
Now I am willing to stand in the tide, drowning the sadness. Even if this life is faded, I can still let go and look into the way.
Tonight is very bleak, sprinkling a white frost, let people look at everything is sad.
Old Tianda sings a thousand people, how many love is disturbed. The tear dropped after you woke up, I have been reading a puzzle that I don't understand.
If a dream is like a life, I really can't let me die in your dream. Just this refreshing red dust, I have been picking the night reading. Waiting for the world, you come to explain, this weak water has multiple, why can't I solve your scoop.
Written pause, night windThe books in the window sill have passed a few pages. I interrupt my thoughts. I can't help but think of you in the distance. Whether it is still being hoped, continue the edge of dreams.
Like a few times, finally I put the door, and the West Wind that was fired by the moon, tonight, dreams didn't come, I didn't care, I put it on the paper, and the end of the dead word :
The night moon is clear, and the scenery is listed, waiting for an old. Looking back, it is not, afraid that it is more accomplished. Since then, floating is like a dream, you are expected to be forgotten!
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