There are some dead leaves on the road on a foggy autumn morning. A woman wearing a ponytail shawl walked casually in the bleak park, looking up and welcoming the waning moon with the same shallow smile as when she saw the pale sky.
She is what I imagined. She has matured in parallel time and space, and has a love in her heart, but still maintains a loneliness and indifference, much like the character of autumn.
Yes, people's character can't escape the outline of the four seasons.
Spring is naive, like to open tiny flowers, fine powder, like a small fantasy, when they fall, they are also full of sadness and sorrow for themselves. Summer and winter are two extremes. The enthusiasm is too warm, as if discussing with the sun. If you don't melt something, you are in debt. Indifference is too indifferent. It seems that you came to this world just to make everything still or sleep. Look at those figures walking in a hurry arm in arm. Not only do they not help, but they will be driven away by the snow.
Think about it, only autumn is the best. It is hot when the sun rises and cool when the sun sets. It can accommodate the lingering songs of summer insects, and add a touch of moonlight to the dim lights in the wandering night, and the cool breeze blows gently. If you hug your arms, your body temperature will also be satisfied.
With autumn's character, we must be soft and firm, and we must not be anxious or impatient. Everything that whispers in simmering soup will be soaked in the foam-like flesh and blood, washed and digested, and when it reappears, although it fades, it is clean.
That's me in parallel time and space, and it should be you.
After all, we still need an autumn to see what kind of person we want to be, and then use an autumn-like tone to forgive ourselves for not being like this, in order to spend the present, this illusory time in a daze.