Put away the green grass of lonely, looking to the horizon, to the sun close

Streets, through the glitz of the city, in series with our footsteps, step by step to the end. Where is the end of the road? The wind at first thought, to disturb the dust scattered in the ground, flying, toward the distant quiet, quietly away.

But we are all travelers, can not be like dust, immersive feelings of mysterious distance. Belong to the story of the street, because the passage of time, slowly buried. The shadow of memory, and the wind seems to leave the same leap, and then dust settled.

We like to travel, so go to a lot of cities. In every city, leaving some stories, waiting for people to go through slowly speculation. Leave a city to go to another place, leaving the person to continue to taste about your loneliness or pleasure. A new train ticket, take you to the next city.

On the way, you can look at the scenery. Those graceful scenery, some fleeting, and soon pulled away from the memory; some everlasting, in a long time still can be with a smile memories.

We carefully note every moment, long after a long time, these can be used to recall life. Every wonderful freeze, are enriched with our lives. In the next city, you are uninvited. Unexpectedly into a city, strange and lonely mood is often on the road posture. But in the near future, you will slowly familiar with the city's breath, the city will be familiar with your breath.

You are here to meet some people, and some people carnival, and some people are sad. Everything that happens in this city is related to you, but it does not matter. Travel is a fantastic day, you take a blank into a city, and then carry a full memory to leave.

Maybe often travel, you adapt to the lonely, learn a person. Crowded time, do not feel that they are outsiders, can be taken for granted; empty time, you can smile, you are their own world.

The lonely journey, because the romantic travel people can become very cordial. Every way landscape, is a comprehend. Walking in the bustling red, and the years haunted smile, and time strangers meet, and the fate of laughter. A person's trip, a person's paradise.

Looking at the blue sky and white clouds, the uneasy mood stabilized, the essence of the clear sky is the experience of the wind and waves from the sense of income. Travel is a beautiful experience, travel met everything is so suddenly, perhaps every night of time, moonlight and leaves can detect your forbearance. Other sleeping creatures, in the dream and lonely hustle and bustle, loud cry.

There is always a memory blurred the paradise; there is always a breeze mixing the flowers. Always walking, the heart is always toward the distance, in fact, we all know that this is travel. Perhaps after a meeting will be no period, maybe once the reluctance will endure.

We will eventually grow, will eventually get used to. Put away the green grass of lonely, looking to the horizon, to the sun close.