-I draw the process of knowing you as a mouse on the roof and a pot of Lan Zhi it keeps. On the night when the stars are extinct, it looks at each other with pea eyes. On such a night, the romance is boundless in an instant, and the coolness blows over your toes, caring for your full dreams and my cautious face.
When Ju Chi woke up, he saw the flowers in the corner of the table again and studied them for a while. In an instant, the sun became fierce and the world became shy and green. Ju Chi leaned his nose forward and pretended it was a spring mushroom. Sniffing the silence of the forest, floating dust falls and splashes together.
Zi Ling also analyzed the day before yesterday that this flower must have been painted by a shy boy to express his love, but today he changed his mind and said that it may have been painted casually by students attending night school. Ju Chi laughed at her preface. Zi Ling once laughed at his so-called "Peach Blossom Luck" and hit back one by one ... "Peach Blossom Luck", with such a strong fragrance, was kept in the Deep Palace Academy as soon as possible, far away from his own courtyard.
Nevertheless, when Ju Chi found an informative stick figure on his desktop that morning-a lonely and messy flower hanging in the open season. It quietly looked at Ju Chi, with this warm day as the background-her thoughts were drawn very long and thin in an instant, with slight emotions.
Ju Chi read Zi Ling's words, which should have been drawn by someone sitting in his seat in the evening school. She reached out to touch this little sign, and a large blank classroom retorted in her mind: "What kind of person is it?" There is a lot of face filling space in the class, and there is no similar trace.
As the days passed, there were more and more flowers. Often it's just one night, and they go on unscrupulously. What an indescribable night it is, Ju Chi thought after waiting quietly for a while. When he was asleep, he started from scratch and carefully picked up his future prosperity.
On that really light day, she couldn't help copying the same flower in the spare place. The line is unclear and gurgles. Time proudly shuttles back and forth in the branches, and Ju Chi looks at the graffiti that has occupied more than half a sparse century on the desktop. During the day when you are not sad, there are clouds rushing to write short sentences.
But when the wet night passed, the sun shone directly on his desk, where the flowers and the half-truths of spring had been wiped clean. Ju Chi's back is stiff, like an embarrassing failure, with humiliation-only his own ugly flowers, but also barely maintained a desolate smiling face.
"Is my painting redundant and bothers him?" Ju Chi climbed out of his heart with a sigh of fear of darkness.
After school, Zi Ling and I parted at the station, but I suddenly remembered that something had been left in the classroom. Ju Chi pattered just visible and ran back. The pattering sound echoed in the dark corridor, filling the sighing background. In the background is his thin and sensitive side face. He is standing in front of the seat, facing the blunt flower. He found Ju Chi and turned to look at himself.
Delicate eyes and gentle hair came to me layer by layer, so the tortoise and the moon stopped talking. They snuggled up to the coastline quietly, listening to the endless noise.
They have been in love for a long time and kept silent. There is a pocket rainbow on my balcony. The short bridge is only to narrow the gap, not the gap. Those beautiful things, those beautiful words that are not worthy.
When he bent down to take out his book in Ju Chi, he asked her, "Is this your desk?" After getting the girl's affirmative and puzzled answer, she smiled apologetically: "I'm sorry for soiling your desk before, and I unconsciously drew a few strokes when I was studying in the evening." I saw your painting yesterday and found that it wasn't my desk ... I just cleaned it yesterday. I'm really sorry. "
"Never mind, I like the flowers you drew ... Well, my name is Ju Chi." Look at his Gherardini eyes and sensitive nose. It's really nice. They are all beautiful.
"Thank you. Call me Kurata. "
Ju Chi knew that she was on a huge ship, silently welcoming the wounds of the sunset and the mermaid's gorgeous evening dress. Ju Chi was so nervous that he bowed to him, said "goodbye" and hurried out-those beautiful flowers fell into the sea from the window with the sobbing of the noble lady, and they either separated or reunited, and the temporary madness and long-term loneliness made people too late to think about it.
"Oh, it turned out to be Cang James Tien Yi." Zi Ling talked endlessly about his old friend in the junior high school class. Ju Chi saw her high eyebrows and remembered a good dream she had before going to bed yesterday. In the dream, Huaer will bloom all her life until she can't bend down any more. The world is so rich that her eyes are sore.
She listened to Kurata's junior high school, which was completely different from her cotton cloth. That once tired smile at the peak. Kurata is the kind of artistic genius who is good-looking, good-looking and can draw works that have won international prizes. Although Ju Chi just listened awkwardly, these long-lost memories were still with him. Finally, at his feet, he spit out his tired breath: "Very talented, but when he was studying with a female painter, a bad scandal happened, which made him never paint again."
The chest creaks. Those stories are unexpectedly wonderful. Unlike that night's face, sinking in the well, the night is hazy and has nothing to do with sadness. Ju Chi frowned painfully, remembering his light eyes. He stroked the flowers in his hand and found himself looking up. When he looked up, the sky opened silently.
Or when school is over, Ju Chi looks for Zi Ling to find the storage warehouse after school. She shouts, and her voice echoes in the dusty warehouse, stagnant water. Suddenly, I heard something overhead. I shouted in fear, but I heard a trance-like voice: "Is it Ju Chi? ..... I am Kurata. "
Ju Chi looked up at the closed attic under the roof of the warehouse, but she could see nothing except a closed space. She asked where the voice was. "Why are you here?"
Kurata's gentle voice suddenly became obvious because of the distance. He said that he often skipped classes and came here. "It's dark here, which makes me feel safe." Kurata said he was working, but Ju Chi didn't understand. She asked me expectantly if I could climb up and have a look. Kuroda smiled at a distance, and Ju Chi noticed-"I'm sorry, I can't, it's all rubbish and a mess"-that he smiled as politely and beautifully as that day.
Finally, I said goodbye, and the girl turned away and took a look at the claustrophobic attic. I really can't see anything clearly.
Ju Chi thought, kurata. Ju Chi thought, Kurata. ...
After a busy afternoon, it was a tired night. The star of the century is eager to try, but can never understand the tacit understanding between the two. On the dry balcony far away from the sea, intermittent feelings are surging.
His appearance gradually became clear from various statements. He is an animal with nothing and is forced to have nowhere to go. No sharp corners, only a slow smile. Ju Chi stared at the last flower on the corner of the table. This wishful agreement can't stand the joy of generations. She thought of Kurata, and she stopped thinking about it.
When we met again, it was a cloudy day, and all the winds were trying to find subtle secrets in the grass. Ju Chi hurried through the wasteland behind the town. It's very cold. It's cold, and he doesn't want to stop and look at the only beauty left in this world. Youth makes wine.
Kurata sat on an abandoned step, eating bread and feeding the bold birds. He greeted her: "Hey." Ju Chi stopped and sat down beside him. When he finished his bread, Kurata sometimes turned to ask her questions, and she answered truthfully. Then everyone was silent, watching the days go by quickly, and the darkness was breathing loudly inside. Ju Chi grabbed his skirt that was blown by the wind and looked at the big bag of paint in his hand: "Do you want to draw?"
"No." He glanced down at those gorgeous trademarks. "I just want to squeeze out all these pigments and throw them away."
"Huh?" Ju Chi looked at his pointed pale fingers holding the bag, as if the unpredictable dark clouds would suddenly disperse there.
"Just like the shapes I like to draw." He patted the crumbs on his body and stood up, and Ju Chi quickly stood up. Two people go forward, in front of the inky horizon. His voice floated on the edge of the clouds in the air, and his fragile and beautiful face was redrawn by the wind. Kurata said that he always noticed something splashing in front of him. They quickly fell to the ground and then fled around the center. "I couldn't help but want to capture them with a pen, but I finally found out that what I drew was actually a flower."
Kurata changed a whole bag of paint from left hand to right hand, and Ju Chi followed him from right hand to left hand. Kurata on the left looks sad. It's not a quiet moment full of separation like the other person, and it's easy for your story to come to an abrupt end. Ju Chi spread out the stones in his heart one by one, and there was a long and ugly column-"They said what a great painting prodigy Kurata used to be, but later." "Every time they talk about Kuroda, they always say' depressed' and' mediocre'." "They say that Kurata used to draw hearts, but now he can't express them any more, even if he tries to draw more."
This once collapsed valley was tacitly bid farewell to life. Ju Chi said nothing, looked at the clouds flowing overhead like sea water, and quietly and irresistibly took Kurata to gloomy Jidi.
The girl grabbed his sleeve: "How can I ... bring Kurata back?"
His eyes finally became transparent in an instant, and he looked back at his weak hair and slender neck, all of which were cautious. You can see that your heart is fragile. In the end, all it strives for is transparent tears.
I don't think we have anything to do with the passing youth, broken bottles, scattered chaos and released nightmares. Just as it brings water to the depression for her every day, she slowly opens a flower for it. We met a long time ago, and it has been dragged on until now.
"You really know me ..." Kurata stared at Ju Chi's taut wrinkled skirt. His heart is already on the highland, where the clouds and waterfalls are silent and the proud rainbow passes by every day. It's just that this silent loneliness was finally hit a few years ago. You can hear everything crashing down, but your soul can't be free because your heart is high. "You can't imagine how terrible it is to disappoint people who believe in their talents. But if I don't draw, it's like dying. "
It is impossible for others to know, and it is impossible to know those talents that must be inexhaustible. It is like dreaming overnight. Those accusations and coercion that followed day and night, those indomitable expectations and waiting, those rumors and legends that grew secretly, those, those, these, these … all.
"But Kurata's painting is the real flower." Ju Chi raised his face and blocked it sideways. "Those' them' who splash away are your hearts."
She watched the boy leave, and he waved and smiled and said, "Goodbye". He bent slightly because he had a big bag of paint in his hand, looking at a loss and scared. Ju Chi just looked at Kurata. She turned and ran home, and it began to rain on the road, neither torrential nor pouring, as if there were blurred rain, which easily got wet.
Decisive time winds forward, passing through our loneliness and sadness in droves, and those fake but real flowers are constantly opening from the painful heart. As a result, the spring chill, those indigestible emotions broke out in the cold wind, and the butterfly disappeared forever.
Ju Chi slept more deeply in class. She buried her head in that unforgettable season, where there was a heart of her own. From the day when Kurata could no longer paint, the only bridge to communicate with the world evaporated into a rainbow. Ju Chi pondered the joy and sadness in his heart, the brightness and clarity he deserved, and the pain of being buried by a clean face-
"They splashed down in front of my eyes, fell to the ground quickly, and then fled quickly. I tried to capture the trajectory of panic with a pen, but in the end I found that I had drawn a flower. "
"Only by squeezing these pigments out of my heart and throwing them into this world can I comfortably digest the illusion that fills my body ... I know you don't understand."
Ju Chi buried her head tightly in her arms, as if embracing a broken moon. The unknown world is the last darkness and blank left by Kuroda. It hung far away and collapsed decisively. Those beautiful eyes and faces, those elusive wounds in beautiful smiles.
"So he can only doodle, those flower-like paintings. Otherwise, the emotions in my heart can't be dismissed, and it will be shattered ... I can't help anything ... but at least the only thing-"
Quiet and warm night, perfect lighting. Kurata stood in front of the table, faded graffiti, slender words crumbling:
"I like you."
The frightening flowers that come through time and space, the turbulent river of youth, the boundless sea of clouds that come out of the box, face the transparent heart with nothing.
Countless flowers with simple strokes splashed from the air and broke between his shoulder blades and eyebrows, but they still covered him tenaciously and beautifully.
"I like you."
-If you forget, your heart will die.
Encounter, Cao Xing Yuxing.
Ju Chi met Kurata in the corridor. She smiled shyly and beautifully at him. He is still such a slender and clear person, and his eyes are like stars when they are bent. As the sun sets, her and his shadows overlap slightly, and the intersecting shadows are dark yellow.
"... did you erase the flowers and the confession? "Ju Chi hand unconsciously shook.
"Well, I hid them." He looked down at the kind girl in front of him, her youthful and peaceful face. "Because I want to take them somewhere else." Kuroda paused, so that there would be no shadow on his face. Ju Chi reflects the sunshine and has her gentle curve: "Our family will move to another city and start a new life."
Ju Chi looked at him hard to let go, looked at him and continued, "I will leave tonight. I will come back to see you one day. " This distance, Ju Chi suddenly thought of the same night, he spoke to himself politely for the first time ... Now, there is a deeper temperature, and those temperatures completely filled his tiny blood vessels.
"I can, touch your face ..." This is the first sentence he said, and Ju Chi raised his chin in surprise.
Your smell and my breath, the desert where we set foot, are the strongest, strongest and strongest temperatures. They are rooted in our hearts, and one day they will emit the same strong light, expelling all incomprehensible humidity and gloom. From our embrace, unparalleled love thrives.
I like it. Just like I really hold you now, I won't let go.
Kurata's disappearance took away his flower-like trajectory and farewell, and redundant stories were hung on the desk. Ju Chi is still enjoying his own forest in the classroom, where the floating dust is quiet. She thought, maybe one day, those scribbled flowers will spread to her arms, pass through her fingers and face the wind at her fingertips. Maybe one day, those transparent flowers and clear reasons. Now, every day, it is still attached to wet clothes like soap bubbles, and under the catalysis of sunlight, it becomes a fine solid to float or fall to the ground.
When Ju Chi remembered Kurata's words before she left, she passed through the empty and silent teaching building in the evening and closed the sunset peeping outside the warehouse.
"I'm working. This place is full of rubbish. What a mess ... you will make me feel rude when you come up. "
Ju Chi thought that he could never touch his back again. He went to the work ladder, removed the attic door and leaned down. It's dark, really dark. There is also the choking smell of dust that cannot be removed. Fortunately, I brought an energy-saving lamp. She climbed up with her arms and saw only a lot of empty paint tubes on the ground.
"I just have to squeeze out all these pigments and throw them away." He has a beautiful smile.
"Where ..." Ju Chi looked up.
-"something falls, spreads outward from the center, and escapes quickly. I found it was a flower when I painted it. Let me show you that the flower is not a flower, but something that has not been drawn. " The ceiling of the attic is full of huge and prosperous flowers, crowded in her field of vision, and it is a silent and high-pitched scream-grand colors, beautiful shapes, speaking out of turn layout, irreplaceable surprises. This other people's world cannot be enjoyed. They used to be so sadly entrenched in a person's heart, but now they are gently blown into a hasty vault, with all the cells and hair in the whole body, all the bones and blood in the whole body, and the loneliness underneath is like a poem.
-"But if I don't draw, it's like death."
Ju Chi looked at all the flowers in Kurata's heart on the zenith, and his words were nowhere to be heard. A coolness flitted across the young man's face, and at last he disappeared. So the gods compensated for this day of weaving flowers, this unforgettable and sad flower day.
One stroke, one color, one spring, one stroke, one heart, one thing, one stroke, one moment, one stroke, one eye, one stroke. The soul pushes it.
Ju Chi lay down slowly, as flexible as a feather without a source. Finally, she saw a flower scrawled on the ground with a pen, with a tender face and time going upstream-he drew the track of his heart on the desk that day, the flower after that day.
The book says that cheekbones are the hills of the most beautiful river. Now they climb over two lines of tears, sticky and sad. Look at my world, so sad. Beautiful sadness. Say goodbye to the bright spring scenery in your heart, and to Xie Yan in front of the main hall, which is endless, unlike a Jedi.
You call my names "Ju Chi" and "Kikuchi Kikuchi", which is really colorful. And chrysanthemum, thank you in that sudden winter.