My wayward at this time to its peak level. As long as I want to do, no one can stop me, or for any reason.
Sui flames under the life and death pull the camel's uncle would not let me rent his camel into the depths of Yang Guan. Camel really tired, and passes the guard and collected from the flow of people is only part of a long time ago quicksand to flood. Embrace in the slightest Qiangdi plaintive than alone because of the Camel nicely. But who is the most lonely. Mody is a fate? I have to go.
Sui stretching down the flames of the fiery red earth, with only the blue sky to contrast with. Blue is the transformation of blue have encountered an inclusive, and then sober forget. The past, the Gobi, and gradually is the desert. Layers have a dark red color to yellowish brown and then to yellow. Almost the day the color of reflected sunlight. Yang Guan Yang Guan is subtle, very far inside the legend of the ancient Han Dynasty. I was looking for inside the ancient and Bing Ge.
Desert was originally the case. Further down stream side of the submerged sand side of the half with his bare feet, very hot, the sun's hand. Thin soft sand, camel thorn, but how can we grasp them. In the barren desert illustrious ran a little green, I thought it more holy than the plateau where everything happened, is that we can in the desert, touching another person's arm and stretching from the sun's smile, so lonely Yang Guan has been ambiguous with me, and my heart spoke quietly I'm sorry. Slightly in the camel thorn beside, I found rows of staggered footprint, thin and rigid, clear three-legged, like the track extension. Quicksand does not drown them, I write with the index finger gently in the side: and me. Heard that camel thorn was originally a small cluster of a small cluster, she would own the past and in the desert scroll until you find your own kind and his partners grow together. She is afraid of the original one lonely soul. But they are out of the flowers is very beautiful. A small red Duo, including the already withered, and scattered in the sand around the top. Maybe I see here in this life is only one such landscape.
Gone more than 4 hours, which is one of the best antique stalls, into the desert as a dry ditch, river bed is sand, the middle of small stones, above the fragmented brick fragments scattered. Occasionally, there are broken bits of bone. They must have their own stories, people have changed the trance is the dust and sand over about face and suddenly I am quiet. Fragments of an incomplete split on the spot mottled, there must be a woman who used it to hold water, but the desert has never been very little rain. I am really a stupid woman. Speculate stubborn often become the prisoner of its own ridiculous. ... This is a round tank 1, firing it when she was a person? Perhaps the side of the Han Great Wall has her thoughts, Yumen how far from here, the flames of Sui how far from here, along the Silk Road will always be lingering inside the remote. I gently tile collections, one is enough, I can only take away one, but with or without taking the whole world.
Met him, in his thinking that everything is not possible the last few hours, I said, how can we find someone to come and save me. "No," the desert of thirst is almost Let me dizzy, I would like sitting or lying down, no matter how hot quicksand there, as long as the stop look like. Jun persuade a glass of wine goes, the West out of Yang Guan no reason people. I found that Wang, like me, I will stop here Zengjinglaiguo. Only his stubborn than I am. "Hand to me, I am pulling you go," he Dunhuang painting House of a painter, I later learned, the long hair, I like his eyes, could be the reflection of the desert blue sky. Here the time the original is always better than his time in the Central Plains slow 2 hours. His hands are very warm, not hot desert. There are clothes ink, before he came here he was trying to fix the ? a painting, ink painting, on the desert, which did not draw passers-by ......
To leave the Yang Guan's first 7 days I do not know its own mind about what is here. Way journey to the desert, to the plateau, to the basin, but also to the plain. I am now 26 years old, the process of life to the age, is a bottleneck in the respiratory embarrassment. Many used to have deliberately forgotten that actually can be very easily forgotten, forgotten and I am really easy.
Heard close your eyes is the dark, a taste of yearning, I think time really flies, this is an illusion of the illusion.
Author: jiaye2000
