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Osamu has passe

in Eure Homepages 05.06.2019 05:02
von ylq | 67 Beiträge

Osamu has passed, and the cold is near. The southern country is a thousand miles of grass, not as good as you, the chimney is smashing, the snow is full of forests, what is it? I didn��t understand when I was young, I thought about fleeing, flew to a wider and wider place, and looked at the distant sky, the white clouds and grasslands, what it looked like; the men and women who looked at other cities looked like; the differences in the houses, the differences in vegetation, and the culture. The difference, the characteristics of the diet; look at the shape of the mountains and rivers, the length of the story, and then meet the length of their wild heart and vision, then do not know what the homesickness is. Sometimes, when you see the sunset, you can read the words of the ancients, "the sunset is in the middle of the world, and the heartbroken people are in the horizon". It is also a scene. Only when you are wronged outside, when you are quiet in the night, you will remember the river of your hometown mokingusacigarettes.com, the grass that the Banpo sheep love most, and the vegetables that grow green and vines and jujube trees that year Marlboro Cigarettes. The yard, and the owner of the yard now? After experiencing the birth and death Marlboro Gold, some people became older overnight. I saw that my family was scattered and I couldn��t get together Cigarettes Online. I finally understood why the homesickness was a little bit. In the south, there are endless greens all year round. There is a warm winter when I don��t have to escape from the enemy. When I was young, my favorite rice ear, the gentle southern woman who read the textbook in the textbook, the small and attic building, When I was young, I had all my illusions. However, when I miss the land in the north, all the beauty in the south is not as good as a snowflake in my hometown. A wheat seedling has to be violently and violently shaken. It is a season of heavy snow, but it is a flower, a branch. Change to pink. You can't see it in the south. In the heart of the northern girl, there is an earth-shattering snowstorm. A plum blossoms quietly blooms and the girl said: If you choose again, I will choose a job that is close to home and has a low salary or a high salary. Because I can't see my family, the money can buy some comfort. I look at the black outside the window. I didn't say anything before. In addition to work, I almost stopped all the words, and my heart was as clean as the winter night in the north. Except for shit, wind, nothing else. Yes, this is the winter night in the north. The wind will move, the branches will tilt, the cats and dogs will fight, and the male cats and cats will meet in the middle of the night. When a person is asleep, a snow suddenly knocks on the door. If there is still something, it is probably the endless field of wheat that I think about day and night Cigarettes For Sale. I dreamed of sitting in the field again, sitting next to the green wheat. I don��t know where to blow the wind, I picked up the green waves again and again, and looked at the waves of wheat, I was moved to say nothing. I gave all the youthful illusions to the South, and I was obsessed with it in my heart, but it was the silence of the northern scene. In addition to the heart of the wanderer, there was probably love that could not be loved. He accompanied me to go shopping and see Chen. Home hall, sand surface. All the way to taste the snacks on both sides of the street, look at clothes, look at architecture, ancient artifacts, take pictures, like a couple. When he walked out of the sights, he said, come, let's take a photo. I smiled and didn't refuse. Uncle at the door took the phone very enthusiastically and said: I will shoot for you. He held my shoulder, like the winter a year ago, under the tiger tower in Suzhou, he licked my shoulder, naturally free and easy, a smile. Everything is already wrong, but I can afford it, I can't wait for it, then I work hard, I don't want to go to work, I don't know how to go home, the roadside trumpet flowers are laid out leisurely, the ivy is yellow, green and green, and the leaves are falling down. I looked up and looked at the sun with my eyes open. Just, I started to lick every word, no longer write easily, no longer talk about love easily. Occasionally, when I edit the text, I see full love. After I laugh, I start to do other things besides love, as if there are more things in life that need to be busy. For example, after work, dinner, cleaning the room, watching movies, going out on weekends, relaxing, some people are there, you can't go, he is there. Just like the hometown, as long as you miss, go back at any time, it is always one day, we no longer read the love, and the person standing next to you is not the one you have ever loved. In life, only the flatness and triviality of the rice and oil, the companionship of the morning bells and drums, and the heart of a cold and knowledgeable person. At this time, it is not that we no longer believe in love. But I believe that in the deepest years, if there is a person who wants to let go of his personality and reluctance to use the rest of his time to accompany and warm, then it is not love. So, one day, I will return to the north or settle in a certain place. I fell in love with a person who knows the cold and knows the good and the simple, and I will tell him: It is not as good as you. Because all the stories, all the people, all the experiences, just to pave the way for the last person to appear. All the stories or people who never forget will eventually be replaced by someone. I am a wild horse. You have no grassland in your home. After all, the grass is a thousand miles, not as good as you.
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