Soothing songs, pure imagery. When music comes back, people are gone and things are different.

I always try to listen to all the pieces with soft melodies, bright rhythms and rich vocabulary. I've been listening to it since the beginning of time.

At first the journey to the north was always full of music. The blue of the sky is an unpenetrated blue, fresh and psychedelic, free and penetrating, and the same goes for the songs you listen to.

I have almost forgotten all the songs I once played, and now only sporadic melodies remain, remaining in the bumpy memory that keeps going. The rest were lost or displaced during relocation or transfer.

Those spiritual music are as clear as water droplets, like a deep blue puddle in a dark jungle. The wind gently blew down the red leaves, pink silk petals, and white flowers, floating on the water, causing ripples, and then being carried away by the flowing water... This is the pure and natural feeling brought by the soft music. .Image, silence, some warmth.

The high notes of the piano are accompanied by fiddles and bagpipes. In autumn, when the weather is slightly cooler, I often listen to it whether walking or sitting quietly. The fast music is hearty and hearty, while the slow music is circuitous and slow. A simple beat, but a pure mood. That kind of rhythm that is bright and sharp when it is high, and soft and graceful when it is low, is like a thread, constantly entangled and constantly dissolving.

I don’t know the relationship between music and written life. Sometimes the room is empty except for the sound of brush strokes moving through the air and tapping. Music pours out like water. Looking at the dim light of dawn outside the window, what I write is actually words and life.

I am made nostalgic by music, and I keep clear things around me, no matter how old they are. I think they can keep me going and keep me awake. Until the music loses its sound, until my thoughts are blurred, until every line of my heart is covered with tenderness. fill. heal.

I am afraid of losing but have to throw away many things. A homeless life makes people independent and has no one to rely on.

Just like the dependence on material warmth, when music is lost, everything suddenly becomes blank, like a vast expanse of snow.

When music comes back, people are gone. Let the melody flow everywhere like water and see your calm face. Just imagery. Things are different and people are different.