Part One: micro static breakpoints night, feeling perfectly understand.  The vast deep sky, under the moonlight quiet and elegant, slightly peculiar sort of sparse winter, dash poignant, leaving endless source of fascination and emotion.Occasionally stop, stare, only vaguely see the broken light scattered embellishment, the hearts will be secretly delighted, pleased that never had the experience of moving.  Except he did not sleep under mildly messy thoughts and sentimental, dim lighting.This night, all things seem ablation, swallowed whole gloomy soul.He sat quietly paralysis or license to lie on the desk, my mind flashed all the pictures of the day, soothing tired body.Habitual write with the pen of some feeble words, tired, sleepy, they aimlessly draw a circle in a nearly circular smooth white paper, then carefully modified, gently embellished, is one happy faces, with a time of childhood innocence.  Accustomed to such self-indulgent, a person, a pen, silence, aimlessly thinking to something painted, what was written.Quietly walk in his strange emotional world.  A very young age, I have been longing for life in the south.Blue sky, white clouds flocculent, clear water, charming flowers, scenery fascination that year-round spring, imagine one day you can really get involved in the “water Xiushan clear brow away long, lean idle return Xiaoge window” place, let Qingwan, Zhenjing filled every corner of life.Now, once walking in a dream land, only to discover that joy is expected to hit the strange alternative, trance, something missing, but unable to find, indescribable appeal, hazy thoughts, feelings overflowing.  Casual day, distant friends are pleased to call and say: snow hometown friends!A big, it’s beautiful snow.At that moment my heart can not help but startled, trance, only to realize that they have lost in the memory of the crossroads.Home, snow.These make yourself how many times tears of collection, actually once again broke his own world.  December December.At this moment, the far north has been shrouded in world silver jade cuttings, were numerous, or fly, or hover.Close your eyes, as if to hear the raving of snow, clear, pure, but also stirring up the heart of ripples, like the wind blowing through the strings soft chiffon, flowing out of a string of pleasant note, played a section of beautiful music , long, distant, timeless.Reach of all that wonderful Qing Ling.While living downtown, but still noisy noisy, hot as summer in the north, with a little cumbersome and anxiety.Read “My world snow”, docked Chi Zijian’s eyes: I like back home, because here, in my eyes, mind and feet are ideal for a stroll at the.Chewed, every word is full of warmth and slightly sad, my heart just around the corner in a difficult to let go of the desire, evoke emotion share of difficult to restrain.  Looking back, early years fingers inadvertently torn to pieces, become breakpoint inextensible.Misty clouds, past the wind.Emotion, pictures.Eyes are already passionate look.Bustling ended, pregnant injury revealed a love for life.Reflect, who gently fleeting moment of my brewing for a different kind of mind?Who will slowly drift away in the years to come and I weave a beautiful dream?Her, leaving a place of memory, a deep moving premises.Perhaps, deep in the night, which is missing at the end, that you looked deep into my eyes, like a pool of rippling stream, a melodious sound of the piano, gently tell their own stories in life unbridgeable gaps in time, inadvertently arouse the ripples of mind.  Opened the window, in an instant, demure breeds, has become the hustle and bustle of loneliness, that the soul of the watchman, dying crumple in a dream season, the bleak years of the rings, the dust of memory footprint.    Part II: memory breakpoint pure white youth Zhang wind like the rain soaked into the white, pure and simple.Quiet face covered with lines of years, blink of an eye, those brilliant pure Love has left me hanging high whistling kite I try to make high-sounding fleeting raging sound.Item micro-Adams said: I used to stand in my memory of my seventeen sixteen, and eighteen years of age at the right time to cherish the memory of my seventeen.”The bright light fingertip tilt white death, storm break and destroy the light trance.If one day, I hope I can be with you for a while the road not traveled, look for some have not seen the scenery, some not squander squandered youth End.The sea is the universe’s most limpid tears.Our story from there, and from there goes by.Like pure white youth summer 2012 a picture of the wind the rain soaked into the white, pure and simple.Quiet face covered with lines of years, blink of an eye, those brilliant pure Love has left me hanging high whistling kite I try to make high-sounding fleeting raging sound.Item micro-Adams said: I used to stand in my memory of my seventeen sixteen, and eighteen years of age at the right time to cherish the memory of my seventeen.”The bright light fingertip tilt white death, storm break and destroy the light trance.If one day, I hope I can be with you for a while the road not traveled, look for some have not seen the scenery, some not squander squandered youth End.Sauna net sea is most clear in the universe tears.Our story from there, and from there goes by.  Summer day in 2012, I graduated from high school, third year of the horse through the years come to an end, sad for three years, three years of pressure from the summer quietly away.But when I later remembered that summer, I found that if I had lost a lot of important things.I took one big suitcase in the summer shuttle camphor tree cover, the wheels and the road surface friction squeaky voice, like a blacksmith beating iron voice, crisp, messy.One car to another city to escape a period of life is wrong, and I chose the wrong way to pay homage to a never ending coming off.The train is very smooth, the scenery is not quite that rich.I always thought that every city has its poles other scene, I found along the way villages and the villages where I seem basically the same, trees, river, village.Blossom like the way the rich oil painting as fleeting.Long night, I looked at the purple quiet night slowly fell, then slowly climb dawn, silently against the bright window overlooking overlooking a distant star.Two days later I went to Guangzhou, I got a job there as his running mate in the workshop, as if from far far isolated from the familiar can not be familiar with the world.Get up early every morning, facing the early morning sun to go to the factory, hot weather in Guangdong abnormal, even if the night is hazy night still feeling very hot, in those days, I enrich, figured a lot of things.”I still love you, but I will not stick to you like a child forever, trouble with you.If some day, I still want to be able to walk into your world.”Those cans wandering in the streets, that wind to rain, staring at those god of the universe, who devastated the stars of the night, those rivers flowing purple Love, the story of those sealed in a bottle, those stretches in the summer camphor, like a sumptuous feast, like a wet ink was splashed with white, like the breakpoint memory, broken into gorgeous petals, sometimes, sometimes, if I in this unknown city quietly He disappeared, and even their own can not find.Quit work that day home I specifically went to see the sub-sea Daya Bay, where the sea is not really big, tidal flow, Shabei to beach, as if those many bright red shining like agate, sea breeze blowing Lan Lan when very fresh, coconut trees grow large very high, here are a lot of big Liang Yi, who sat on it was very nice.I remember there was a girl painted a picture for me, a boy and a girl standing on the blue sea listening quietly, quietly looked.Love like water, your hands clenched flowing but still a bit away, and now I am a man of the sea looking quietly, quietly looked as if everything had never happened, those who have fond memories of those real heavy Dianpei, forces you to mature, forcing you to grow, those left light footprints slowly being eroded sand on the beach, buried, like memories, broken white, swirling from heaven.