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23.08.2019 09:35
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We are always busy with our busyness, but when we look back, we find that our one-man show is still on the singer day and night, and we are still indifferent and indifferent. In an instant, we are empty. If the old man is sad, the old man always smiles at us, and then scorns our body and continues to move forward. We are finally decided to be abandoned by time. In an unknown corner, we are alone. Go and look for a seemingly happy road. However, the eyes are empty. I don��t know how to spend it in November. I can��t recall any existing, even a little trace. Only the words in the space, blogs, and diaries that have been suppressed for too long and smashed, commemorate my A little bit, it proves that I am getting old. In the second year of high school Marlboro Lights, I wrote a prose poem that was proud of at that time. The title was "17 years old, we started old" and revised many times. Now I have brought it back again, and I don��t feel that it was naive and ridiculous at that time! I think that my growth is a journey that is getting older and getting older. It doesn't just start at the age of 19. I don't know how many times I have grown up, my eyes are desperate, the cruelty of reality hurts me, and I am dumb, rushing through them, and hanging on their own affairs, what can we do? Everyone is a broken dream, we can't force anyone to do anything for us to help us Cigarettes Online. In a blink of an eye, Christmas is coming again. I don't want to go back to the last scene, and write it down again. I think this is killing for me! Let them pass in the past, pain, laughter, blurred figures, memories of the tide, all in the teeth and want to let me look at this mess again. Please don't do this. May all of you be better than me. We will be our passers-by. If it has become history, let us collect it and seal it. Each of us will continue to embrace the new tomorrow, those unrealistic dreams, and then in the face of a certain reality, bursting into tears, leaving tears in the ground, sparkling and desolate. On a lonely Christmas Eve, I will listen to Sun Yanzi��s "Knowledge" in a place where no one is, and let the music go to the maximum Carton Of Cigarettes, let the heartbreaking and lingering spread in my ear, those broken words enough to calm me. for a while |
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