飞飞飞飞飞_哥的个人资料

Moments before Moments before the young man leaped off the building, his chest felt caved in and at the same time a hellish fire was burning in his stomach, eating him from inside out. “Oh god! This is it. There’s no turning back.” He’s never felt as lost and lonely. “I am all alone. No one loves me. There’s no hope, no way out. It’s all meaningless, meaningless!” He couldn’t break away from these thoughts. It was as if the thoughts had turned into an octopus with enormous tentacles and suction discs and had wrapped itself tightly around his head, choking him. And he was convinced that to live is to suffer. “Oh god! Why me? Why? I can’t take this anymore!” So screaming and in a wild fit of desperation and suffering, the young man hurled himself off the building. As he fell, however, something suddenly happened. Or rather, it was a series of things. What happened was that the moment his feet left the edge and his body accelerated toward the ground, the moment he felt the air molecules beating against his skin and tossing his hair about, something flashed in front of his eyes. And the young man swore that he saw his parents’ faces right in front of his, his father’s face burrowed with wrinkles and his mother’s with that hard-to-describe motherly expression that seems so eternally set like the look on the face of a statue. Immediately following that, a waft of smell entered the young man’s nostrils. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was even possible to smell anything, yet he was convinced he did smell it. It was the smell of some homemade dish, most likely braised pork. But to the young man, it was the smell of childhood and suddenly, a river of memories flooded his mind. But they were partially unfocussed and bubbled up so fast that everything was in fragments and slightly out of focus, like flipping through a picture book or fast-forwarding through an old tune. So it was just a mélange of bits and pieces: the color of the autumn leaves; his first goldfish; grandma’s noodle soup; a snowball fight with friends… Yet they brought a warm feeling to his stomach and his chest. And so the young man kept skimming through his past until all of a sudden, as if in slow motion, out of the blur of memories emerged a face, the face of a young woman. Without effort, he recognized that it was the face of his first love. It has been many years, yet her face has never been as clear as right now, and to his amazement and disbelief, it was the most beautiful face he has ever beheld. But mostly it was her eyes. They glistened and looked straight into his, and there was so much tenderness and lovingness in them. Then he felt it - her hair brushing against his face, the softness of her lips kissing his, the gentle caressing of her hands, and the warmth of her body when she curled up next to him. At that moment, something deep inside the young man’s soul stirred and his heart instantly swelled up and was filled with an aching and burning love, not just for the girl, but for his parents, for all of his friends, for the sun, the moon, all that moves and all that are moved, for life. And his eyes became wet and he smiled… Then, the young man blinked and the moment he blinked, the memories that had for an instant shrouded and enveloped him cleared away like fog blown apart by wind and the feelings evaporated. He looked down and noticed the ground speeding toward him. Something clicked in his head and finally he realized what was happening, and a sudden wave of fear and panic seized him. He wanted to scream but no sound could come out. His hands grasped about desperately in the air, hoping to grab hold of a rope or a branch or a ledge or anything. But none was there. And the young man, in his final moment, suddenly forgot why he jumped.

我发表了一篇图片贴，大伙来看看吧~

普通的想法，居然成了奢望普通的想法，居然成了奢望

想得太过美好想得太过美好

喝多了才知道最想谁喝多了才知道最想谁

计划再好也没用计划再好也没用

门被反锁了门被反锁了

睡得很不好睡得很不好

我不是一个主动的人我不是一个主动的人

恶梦啊，请离我远一点恶梦啊，请离我远一点

最近很多事。什么事？不关你的事最近很多事。什么事？不关你的事！

喝少了无法麻醉自己喝少了无法麻醉自己

又被恶梦惊醒又被恶梦惊醒

别睡了，起来了别睡了，起来了

睡不着睡不着

有些爱只能止于唇齿，掩于岁月！有些爱只能止于唇齿，掩于岁月！

我们都倔强我们都倔强