Origin edge off its own master, I have the fortune, lost in my life!    Cloud, whom never stop, even if he had to laugh Or you cried, he suddenly away suddenly near sinking heart, has long been the wind and rain into ruins, uninhabitable。  Puzzled leave his ruthless, stubborn like his electric fire tenderness。Since then, the Wind Machines, cover red tears; frown in the mirror, dressing tired, empty sleep every night for months。Happy chewing pain, who knows?  When he quietly began giving you the sky the moment, you can be watched, even tears, but do not retain, at least give yourself a little dignity, do not belong to you just let it go to waste。You miss just a rain cloud。His appearance, in addition to ink your sky, your eyes sadly, what?  In fact, you know cloud is rootless duckweed, he does not belong to you, this life will not give you any promises。Maybe you just love that moment of tenderness, sadness that bright as the stars of the hint of a smile。Sigh difficult world, but is not often in the spring, I love long long?Lovely flowers are everywhere, so all may pay the ruins。  Love ignite in an instant, but the whole half to cool。Not only is the situation as well as the cooling of a love of your heart。If time could turn the clock back, back to that place to meet, we must meet, why acquaintance。But, life is not drama, not to find out that chapter, and then use a pen to erase you。  Buddha said,“Methodology are students, all Department of fate, Jimie origin, raw edge is empty。”  Acquaintance is the edge to, edge to make is to forget themselves。You experience this innocence, from the experience of pain, only fathom the true meaning of life, remain unaffected, in order to ease down。  Today I shave the hair off the three thousand Buddhas is not only broken craze!