浮想当年,那些在当年看来有意义或没意义的日子,一齐都已匆匆离去,日子走过一条蚯蚓一样的拖痕;站在时间的门槛上前瞻后眺,许多零碎画面,急来快逝,也全然是想象中才有的喧闹。任记忆搜拣,那些为记者梦所包裹的青涩、激情和感动,事实上已不存在,也将不会再来。 In the past, those days that seemed to be meaningful or meaningless in that year all left together in a hurry. They walked past a tow-like mark like earthworms. Standing on the threshold of time looked forward, many fragmented pictures hurriedly hurry Death, but also completely imagined only noisy. Any search or memory, those who are wrapped in a reporter’s dream Sentimental, passion and touched, in fact no longer exist, will not come back.