Adjectives List Of Mandarin

I dreamed

K. Those dreams that appear suddenly and for no reason always make me nostalgic. Simple dreams of peaceful coexistence, in which there are only company to have a coffee or watch a film. Two or three nights ago was K, but sometimes it's someone else, almost always the same, which escoda me in life and in dreams. We never talk. K smiled and with those determined eyes seemed to say everything you need. I simply see it also in silence. Upon awakening from dreams and I am expelled from paradise transition of peace or harmony that I've rarely found in life. I read or heard, perhaps invented, that the most difficult to share the silence. Maybe from there comes the nostalgia. To open their eyes to a world of words, a noisy world and almost all the time confused. Talk, write, read. Always messages of others; trivial messages that hide the true meaning of words. Understood to mean, living in a double uncertainty, the bane of bad grammar finished yet is the only way, the only tool that I hope can take some time to quiet reality that dream. So far, I had thought that a world in which there anything left to say would be an empty world. To wake from that dream where Karina looked me in silence and without end, where I watched and understood the reason for his silent presence, I am tempted to change his mind. Maybe the last step is silence. If we invent words to explain to the world, also invented to create lies, misunderstandings and convenient excuses to escape from the truth. On the other hand, can not lie in silence and only silence rests. The silence is peace, silence is agreement and harmony. Perhaps what the dream is trying to tell me that, that the only way of saying things and to avoid interference or language is silent anguish, the waiver language. Not a sign, gesture or touch. Maybe paradise comes to the world when it ceases the word, perhaps the demiurge is silent, unassuming, will be a sports crazy solipsita in a world without interference. Karina dreamed. We share a silence. And waking, I did not get it, or remember the night we met. I dreamed about it and woke up with this fine image, the red flower and short hair. I was sad. In a world without words, the name was not slow to erase the image and not lose face slow to stay in six letters and no echoes. In silence, words do not rise trenches between my memory and reality. Close my eyes and create your picture instead of writing his name. Perhaps, as Hamlet said it was not a prediction or a metaphor for death, but the only desire we all share. The rest is silence.