I am back, Nyalam but to leave. Before I left yesterday, so I played the same scene. Drove away, we do not speak, smoky my eyes. I do not know Nyalam are thinking at this moment, I just knew she was gone. 20 days ago, I do not know her; Twenty days later, my life has left her memory. Like 20 days ago, my boss and Qianban Ye do not know, but they figure eventually filled me in my future thoughts.
Residential street on the windowsill watching the unnamed flowers, I turned around and asked the youngest Qianban Ye Luo Ta-you know, he nodded. I asked him know that "The Orphan of Asia," he shook his head. I smiled. Reminds me of the summer a year ago, Luo Ta-you's Shanghai concert, my mind shouted themselves hoarse, and burst into tears. Thought of standing beside my girlfriend, and her voice to those evaluations Luo nasty classmates. I am also reminded of a book, one is called "Reader's Digest," later renamed the "reader" journal, this text is full of a variety of feelings is how the magazine had been affected me. Then one day, perhaps my adult of that day, I suddenly found myself no longer need it. I do not need someone to tell me how to be, no longer need someone to teach me what is love, so I abandoned it, it was also abandoned. I even remember the 2000 Christmas, and I join my colleagues in Beijing on a business trip in Malaysia Danker, remembered his curiosity about Beijing Duck.
At this point, everything had left me. Malaysian Danker this lovely old man left the company, before he left, my girlfriend left me. So I deviated from the familiar life. Now, lost everything, only the land beneath their feet so that I felt a very real existence. There is no aroma of roast duck lovers, there is no girlfriend Enchanting, without the good old man smile Malaysia. Some of that is butter tea and tsampa. However, all this is also about passing away, quickly passing away, I want to force in vain to grasp, but can only turn let go.
Today is our last time visiting the street was, under the impulse to the whole of Lhasa's most famous "Majiami" restaurants to go in after the turn of the lap, suddenly found himself a little appetite are not, then right again turn out. This well-known the small yellow building, then home to the beautiful Majiemi, her lover of the Dalai Lama to come here every day to sing poems, which serves some of the romantic Jiangnan scholar-beauty.
"Traveler" in the door, MM stood there, did not say anything. I dare not look at her face, down brim, body sideways into the door. I have to speak loudly, secretly to see her with eyes of light. She is always back at me, I can not see her face. To wait until I once again turned to go after, MM gone, the door stood a foreigner.
After night falls, the Potala Palace, a restaurant opposite, I desperately Bite roast beef, drained a bottle of wine.
8 Gallery science room, boss, and Qian Banye drilling in bed chatting. I thought tonight would be insomnia, perhaps wine's sake, once sleep passed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . This is your favorite song to sing good grief are clear. The river of time, loss does not occur, this song is still repeated ear. This is my last song, at this moment to bid farewell to a last resort. We have able to return to the past, the song is still in the ears
Author: sean741031