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While I'm still young can think about the past

When the sun goes down to the west, I sat in the dilapidated pier on the river, the vast sky looking New Jersey above, I feel as if all without the reclaimed land, all the way, all the people in incredible towards the West coast. Until now I know, in Iowa, the boys always kept commotion noisy, because the land is so that they can not be so calm. Tonight, the stars will be hidden, don't you know that God is in the constellation of the great bear on? Fully descended to earth in the dark, hidden River, enveloped the mountain, before covering the last bank, the stars of the night will be to the earth with her bright little fluorescence. In addition to feel helpless toward aging, no one knows what will happen before, no one.
First open the book, at the age of 15 in winter, and this one through, but yesterday. I just spent 2013 on Christmas Eve in a foreign land.
Scarlett, do not want to just for 10 years.
The sky star still shines, the pedestrian The stream never stops flowing. In a horse and carriage of streets and alleys on both sides, lined with a row upon row of shops. After the neon like a surging Cang flow, with hit the road central, colorful. The sky fluttering colorful flags, people's laughter. Suffused with decorative light silver, like a sparkling Zhu Yugua in the cement brick rubble, dizzying, thought to escape to.
Is the early morning, but the daily pressure city has never tired.
I was upset. All said the merciless years, can be precisely this wiped out our edges and corners, wasted youth, but disappear at the same time, decorate a metro city.
So, I had a thought, tore off a piece of white paper, on top of wanton graffiti, painting I have keen scenery, the book of life between the poems of Hao Ran.
Though drunk, we lit the lamp to see the glaive; sober, we heard the horns from tent to tent.
Suddenly, I remembered Xin Qiji, thought of Xia Wanchun, I talked with her for a while Wen Yiduo. It is a section of the soul, a song of praise music.
Don't talk about guoqiuguhen, I admire that passion, the pursuit of that state of mind. For ink into chapters, they live or die, is world counterparts. I always like to pull a word, is the "heart", "".
Under the present themselves, you need to do is only to nature, or embark on the journey to explore the conscience?
"By Kegon" often mentioned a word, he is at the beginning of the heart. Future generations copiously quote authoritative works, summarizes the eight words, "don't forget the heart, always".
So, I put a case before the teacher Gao Xiaosong's book, is a few months ago asked a friend to the side. It has a very special book name, "such as bereavement - we finally old enough to talk about the future.".
Therefore, this article will have a name, "while I'm still young can think about the past".
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