tiougg

tiougg

Mercredi 23 juin 2010 à 8:08

 

MBT shoes      

On silent, quiet night alone, according to the body windows, any leakage in the moonlight, bringing a mottled ground, and the leaked into a small stream slowly inside, and accompanied by waves Linlin, swinging from endless thoughts.

always unconsciously thoughts swirling in, perhaps because the moon tonight, so charming, and perhaps living people by surprise, to have become blind, in the hectic day and not let me calm down, only in the dead of night in order to feel the heart of the desolate, taste kind of "vague and look at the sky, and were harder and harder; a sadness, and air long laugh," of loneliness.

people are afraid of loneliness, and wandering alone in a foreign land, in the face all around are not familiar with, and only thing that this round of the moon is still a matter of homeland memories: some people, time and again from memory grazed, it seems to me there are tales of Emotional Memory to Sanjiang 1000. Believe that they are people who love me, naturally I love people, otherwise how could steal my memories, they would not have entered my dreams ...

people who love my children, I love the the children who, 好想 clockwork SMS to tell you I am you, 好想 a call to say long-lost, pick up the telephone down, picked up ... or the courage, for fear that happens too abrupt, Pada Rao Your night's dream, afraid you will be more disturbing for me, hesitated for a long time for a long time now ...

the hearts of a thousand words, but it just looked out the window of the moon, gently tell: those people who love me and I love people, you have gone well do?

 

[Editor: listen to the rain] to see the author's space?

recalled

in the passage of time in the dust

in the Remembrance of remembrance bloom

those people, those who look like,

some memories ,

others become increasingly blurred.

those things, those in the past,

easily forgotten, and re-think;

still remember someone said to me, Guo,

those who have entered their own people and things in life is bound to be forgotten,

and those who have in one's life passing people and things are bound to remember;

those people, those things,

sipping my point that good in the past;

those people, those things,

Mercredi 23 juin 2010 à 7:59

There have been a lot of dreams, have gone with the wind, dissipated in the years that the river, fade gradually without becoming not see that only dreams late at night when you secretly worry.

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