The text appears to be a random assortment of phrases, keywords, and sentences without coherent structure or context. Below is a translation of the provided Chinese text into English, though it retains its fragmented and disjointed nature:
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...the people are silently enduring, unable to express their feelings to anyone... We constantly remind ourselves: life is precious, time is infinite, and we must accomplish our infinite goals within the finite time we have...
Time passes, the seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter repeat in cycles. One season follows another, one climate connects with the next, the old supporting the new, all following the predetermined plans strictly, changing, repeating, and transforming in an orderly manner. They continue endlessly, relying on each other, assisting each other, and intertwining countless continuous, ever-renewing processes.
He belongs to a certain kind of benevolent person who, before you ask, tells you everything about himself. I don’t know if they remember the little girl who often passed by them this year, but when I look at her, my heart is still filled with tenderness as it was before. Show them compassion, and they will love you.
In reality, I have never thought that such encounters among strangers could happen, allowing two people to progress from strangers to genuine friends. Is it because I’ve performed music and bowed my head in countless lifetimes that I finally met someone who understands me in this life? Then, walking together through fields of flowers, interpreting my repeated weariness and sighs...
I enjoy standing alone by the window, not for the beauty outside, but to think of distant things within those landscapes. In endless thoughts, you often appear. As I imagine, I see you slowly approaching, or perhaps you turn around, leaving only a silhouette behind. Thoughts become sculptures, transcending time, like remembering the red flowers by the bridge, year after year, knowing for whom they bloom.
Modern phone functions are increasingly unimaginable—not only can they access the internet, but also download various items through the mobile network.
A clear-eyed person is blind. Whenever I sleep deeply alone afterward, it is always shut off on the kang (traditional bed), emitting a sapphire-like glow. All this is illuminated by two lights, except for the clear-eyed ones.
At first, some people said they would invite his father, just to give him face, but his father refused stubbornly, not giving in.
I still reminisce about that path covered with flower petals, and that late spring evening with drizzling rain. I saw the maple leaves blazing red, the sundial calm and peaceful as ever, the river flowing eastward slowly... Isn't there a moment when I stand amidst the dust, seeing only the rise and fall of causes and conditions?
After many years, I am your hated regret... Me, what do I regret?
Passing through clusters of flowers, thinking about the petal rain. Pain radiates throughout the body, making it hard to endure. Hoping they grow old together. It seems summer is truly fading.
During my birthday, I received greetings from two netizens. The scabs in my heart accumulate layer by layer, gradually hardening and aging. Looking at the mirror, seeing a lonely and sorrowful face, yet not daring to reach out and help.
At times, I don’t lament the unchangeable past or fate’s unfairness. However, whenever I lose motivation, I feel cleverly trapped in sadness, becoming mediocre, even asking why it has come to this, why I have changed so much, unable to resist lamenting fate's injustice.
There is no one without strengths who despises reading, none without understanding who envies reading, only those awakened who use reading.
Sometimes, I am startled by my own wild imaginings. Because all I can do now is to properly handle every task, waiting for death.
It is also the wind previously called clouds; many lines of drama are very moving when used appropriately in scenes.
19. True love does not concern itself with noise, grandeur, luxury, or fame; it doesn’t need fanfare.
During the holiday, there were feasts ordered, but delicious food was useless for digestion.
Wanting to write something, but realizing that my hands tremble as I type, the characters awkwardly strung together, indescribable frustration...
How about your mind? Is it empty? Is your heart empty too?
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The text includes a mix of philosophical musings, personal reflections, and disjointed thoughts, along with website URLs at the end, which seem unrelated to the main content. If clarification or specific sections need further refinement, let me know!