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ed dust and forgot all about

UserPost

8:40 pm
July 5, 2019


ylq

Journeyman

Posts: 82

1

The park in March is full of spring. The trails are full of blooming flowers, pink peach blossoms, white cherry blossoms, yellow spring jasmine, red cuckoos, and the open season of this grass. Look at the little flower buds that are waiting to be placed, and tightly wrap the shy mind, as if you are afraid of someone to explore. The blooming flower, small and full, the petals are covered with the deep kiss of the morning dew, and the song of missing in the flower core. She trotting with the morning exercisers, heard the sound of flowers, stopped involuntarily, stood in front of the flower trees, and watched the flowers in the early spring, how to dress them with bright colors. Look, that small cluster of flowers is crowded at the end of the branch, the green leaves are leaning against the branches, there are two branches in the middle of the branches, and the peach blossoms clinging to each other Online Cigarettes, quietly holding each other, it seems that everything in the world is not In the eye, jogging along the path, the new long grass, green and green, a soft green, so that her heart is also intoxicated. When there was a sound of music in the distance, people who danced aerobics in the square swayed with the rhythm of the music. Occasionally, someone heard a scorpion on the other side, and heard a loud scream, and the small fish in the lake stunned. Underwater drill. There is a peach flower falling on the calm water, gently flowing with the water. The poetic mood and the dream-like scenery reminded her of the gray afternoon. That afternoon, the sky was a little gray, and the tears that had been suppressed for a long time, such as the sea that broke the levee. A person, leaning down, crying, drinking, staggering, and resounding the words of the ears. Do not want to flow the tears, but it sheds, love collapses in tears, tears, crystal clear. Really just for her good, or her own incompetence, a kind of philosophical body to withdraw. Under the heart, throwing away the same ruthless words, in an instant, the sky is dull mokingusacigarettes.com, she with tears, the head does not return to the strong, to the deep distance. The dream of reality is always too cruel. In the middle of the year, the bustling city, a ridiculous heart, spreads the loneliness of one person to the end of time. Her flowering period has passed, and the mistake is so outrageous that the spring of the eye is covered by a tear. Through the vague tears, I can’t see the delicate beauty of the flowers, but the extreme melancholy spring is the season of hope. During the season of cultivation, she buried her hopes in the soil, carefully, like burying her past life. this life. Many of the footprints that have passed have been blurred in the storms of the years. Those irritated hearts are still wrinkled and folded, like the ups and downs of the waves, from time to time hitting the anchorage of her soul, like the footsteps of winter and spring, shredded, long and looking up, a slight red light There are gray clouds floating in the southeast, today, it is definitely a good weather. And whether love will be as beautiful as the weather Marlboro Cigarettes, is it just a life experience, a so-called fate in the red dust. When love is in love in the name of love, love is just a superficial explanation, a seemingly divine union, and a reality of separation. When love is in love with love, the understanding of love is sublimated into a realm, a true mutual agreement, and a heart. These days, the eyes have been aching, and it seems to be blind. This time it was really heart-wrenching, and the injury was so heavy and heavy. Unfortunately, she never went to the bloody wound alone in the silent night. Perhaps, when life is over, the wound will naturally heal. posture. The tall and deep eucalyptus, the infinite vitality, the green leaves, silently crawling over the branches, a few sparrows singing in the trees, the sounds are melodious. I ran around the lake for two laps, dropped a few drops of rain, hit my cheeks, desolate and desolate, never waited again, settled my heart on the calm lake, and the story of love has become a wind Newport 100S. Life is like a play. I know myself outside the play, and my love is more than a dream. Who knows what dreams are? Is it true? Is it really necessary to forget? Still have to continue? Play a game? The words that are also true and false, and also the expression of anger and anger, are in the long river of the years, mistakenly mistakenly entered, imprisoned for the bitter fruit of this life, knowing that love is not the result of pleading, not the vicissitudes of secret love, why bother Why bother to come to a real stage. Who can’t understand the plot, without the dialogue of words, who is who captured the heart? The thought of silence, but unexpectedly a word, two words, provoked heartbreak, bitter feelings. You can barely choose to escape, so it is barely reluctant, but it is difficult to resist the temptation of flowers. Forget it, just like forgetting that the spring flowers will open, the grass will grow, the conversation will be chaotic, and the heart will fly. It��s a bearish, it��s a virtual fake, nothing is nothing. I want those little flowers and grasses that I have never said before, one season and one season, no powder, natural growth, no bondage, free breathing, one season, but the bright Marlboro Lights, live true, then really forget, forget I have forgotten the red dust and forgot all about it. On the sunny spring day, I gently tell myself:
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