每一次,扯下一片片的烦恼丢进碎纸机的时候,总又有新的滋长出来。用酒把它们养大吧。那样,烦恼便都不会是清醒的。于是泪水迷了眼,连空气都变得那么朦胧。这样的烦恼,能长大吗?我从父亲那里,学会了一种叫洒脱的东西,并且再也放不掉了。就将烦恼关在门外,重重地甩上门,听锁卡嗒? Every time when the trouble of tearing a piece of paper is thrown into the shredder, there is always a new growth. Raise them up with wine. In that case, the trouble will not be sober. So tears got lost and even the air became so embarrassed. Can I grow up with such annoyance? I learned from my father that something called free and easy, and could no longer afford it. Will the troubles be kept outside the door, thrown heavily on the door, listen to the lock card?