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You must love something.

   Life must have something to love; only then will living have meaning.   This world unfolds different wonders every day, with its share of joys and sorrows. We encounter beauty in this journey of life, only to return to silence in the next season's farewell.   The helplessness in life may be the imperfections bestowed upon us by fate. The moon waxes and wanes, people experience joy and sorrow, everyone has their temper, but inner peace and tranquility are a product of one's own heart and cultivation.   If time treats me harshly, I will treat myself gently; if life gives me sunshine, why should I treat others coldly? Time will not take everything away, because love can still provide warmth.   I always feel that only when one's heart is filled with love and strength can one face the storms of life without fear.   In truth, we come into this world not to witness the wickedness of humanity, nor to get entangled in right and wrong. Life is not easy; we must cultivate ourselves...

Half a lifetime of wandering, and then I met you.

   Life's fleeting years are always consumed in the journey. In God's eyes, the magnificent scenery along the way is beautiful because of youth, the choice to travel far, and the encounters that make it all so. Half a lifetime has been spent, yet I just happened to meet you.   Spring waters are just beginning to rise, spring forests are just beginning to flourish, spring breezes are blowing for miles, spring flowers are blooming everywhere, but none of these compare to you. So, having drifted all the way from the source of the Xinjiang River, I have stopped here. And so, a restless heart finds the road to the distance growing shorter and shorter, life seems to have a center, and the distance between you and me has become the radius, this circle locking in my sphere of activity.   That year, we went to see the sea together, our footprints side by side on the beach, our shadows stretched long in the sunset, our playful antics on the beach, the tranquil night sky, the stars like w...

Fallen flowers yearn for you

   A wisp of wind rises, shaking down the branches laden with longing. You stand beneath the tree, your eyes radiant with a gentle spring breeze. And so, a ray of light falls, and you turn to ash with it.   --- Prologue   You are the true words in the Buddhist scriptures as the prayer wheel turns; you are the only true love in Loulan City; you are the man with the folding fan beneath the tree amidst falling blossoms when the wind rises; you are the haunting figure I cannot escape in my dreams, and also a splash of red in that picturesque landscape.   I remember our first meeting, you were still dressed in white, your every move graceful and elegant, brimming with talent. The folding fan accentuated your refined and elegant demeanor, but what truly captivated me was your smile, as gentle as a spring breeze.   Yes, when you smile, spring arrives, the snow melts, and the flowers bloom.   After that, I stayed by your side.   You said, "What is the meaning of life? Better to plant ten ...

You never know whether tomorrow or an accident will come first.

 Hearing this news suddenly was very sad. We never know which will come first, tomorrow or an accident. My WeChat Moments is flooded with posts about you. I'm silently praying for you, hoping you're doing well in heaven. I've watched that video repeatedly, and I still can't believe it's you. We've known each other for seven or eight years, though we met on Tieba ( a Chinese online forum). You've always been a very reliable friend. In our memories, you've always been a good person. In everyone's hearts, you've always been a wonderful young man— warm-hearted, kind, optimistic, and humorous . You always did your best to help friends in need, and you always participated in volunteer activities on Tieba. But in the blink of an eye, it's all become the past that can never be returned to. Everything is gone, leaving only memories. X, may you rest in peace . Whenever I encounter these things, I always feel a pang of sadness , lamenting the fragility ...