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12.07.2019 09:31
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If waiting is not for this life, would you wait? If the promise is owed this life, would you still say it? If faith is this oyster, do you still believe? If life is the tears of this life, will you still live? If you are a fireworks in this life, you will still have a very fast time in the morning, and you will get used to writing every day after you have finished your breakfast. There is no time to sweep the space, the text is to rise and fall with the mood. Sometimes it will fall into waves, sometimes like a soft stream. I can't tell which one is true. I don't admit that losing is instinct, and only the warmth that cares about makes me soft. Perhaps this is what is often said to be "chemical hundred steelmaking for the soft finger"! Really a big man's temper, usually will make others shy, can not find confidence, will be bad and cute. Like a child, unrestrained indulgence of freedom. I don't want to distinguish between right and wrong in the red dust Cigarettes For Sale. I only like to put myself into a fireworks once and then fall. The river of life sometimes feels long. When loneliness devours one's own moment, every second is in the heart. I don't know how to fill it up, let it ravage the heart, but the tears helplessly fall. I feel embarrassed. In the dark, only I know the traces of coldness on my face. Salty and salty, my heart is bitter. It��s okay when I��m busy, I don��t have time to think about it, I like to calm down, I��m afraid to calm down, I��m alone in the text, and my sorrow will whirlwind and I can��t dodge. Listening to songs is a habit, and it is my only companionship. I cares about my heart, hovering in the mountains and flowing waters, and my love is dying. At that moment, my soul is out, I am outside the red dust, my heart is free to drift, I don��t want to say goodbye. However, some figures disappeared into the heart. I don't want to say helplessness, but my footsteps have been lingering in the same place. I don't want to open the year of the flow Marlboro Cigarettes, but there is always some memory in front of me. If I spread the fingers, the sun will not scatter the love, the warmth is looking forward to, 2015 only wants to harvest a relationship. Deep love, fixed in the eyes, don't let the sound of loneliness, the shadow accompany me in the night, a person looks out the window. You are the knot that I have been entangled in, and I can��t miss it, no matter whether it��s falling in the snow or tears in my eyes. For a moment, the strange sky broke the love string, and through the past and present encounters, how often breaks the imaginary moment of meeting, maybe that moment has been a thousand years. Why is the heart of the heart separated from the past and present? How much like this flower, so volcanic bloom, solitary. My tenderness, lost after that spring, I forgot to wait for you to die, forget the eyes of your pity, only know that the tears never stop flowing. I finally understood the owe, and understood the candlelight of the West Building in the moon, and smashed the red dust for a long time. When the flower blooms, I will take a few moments to rest. I will look at the world. Who is my ferry? The ferry is the night Parliament Cigarettes, the song of the reed flute, the loneliness that I can't hide, all turn into fire. Is there any hot hair? Who lives in your eyes, why don't you tell me? If the promise is a mistake, then leave me far away. Ten fingers fell, the lips touched the winter cold, the stars have disappeared, the moon did not pay attention to me, the flute still hovered mokingusacigarettes.com, tears drenched the exquisite heart of the broken. My pain, do you understand? In the dark night, my ink is wrong. Excluding the context, what am I left? Can the bones sway and reach the geometry? The darkness of the night is the devil, engulfing the flowers of the soul. The ignited fire, reflecting me in tears, is very sad, very lonely, I really want someone to hold me tight. Use the whistling of the wind, wake up your sleeping ears, put a fire in the heart of the lake, burning fiercely. There is only me in your eyes, don't use the dodge to hurt, I am afraid of being alone. If there is loneliness, I will accompany him. If it hurts, I will use a hot kiss to massage. If I cry, I will cry to the pain, then smile and hold me. If you are drunk, then I will drink it. If you are alone with cigarettes to numb, you will ignite me with a gentle igniting, watching me squandering the clouds, the cool enchanting into a magic friend said: "One's love, the world is unparalleled", I said one person's Love is hurt. Depicting the color of love, it is the pause of time, a person said to me: This life is only for me! I abandoned the soul and followed it all my life. In the quiet winter, only when the smoke rises, I feel a little warm. I really want to boil the lonely heart lake, shake the wandering boat and look for the shore of spring. Just think about it, cold and cold did not dare to go out, just put a little red dress on the clothes, don't laugh at me, I am really lazy, I just want to hurt someone to accompany me, just want to cry, You don't need to hide your vulnerability. The soul is holding the loneliness, the road can be less rough, and everything is extravagant. Empty hearts are bitter, and falling flowers are also a mistake. Flower blossoms and flowers are gradually forgotten Newport Cigarettes, people come to the heart and turn cold. The hand holding the flower does not like the color, but it does not leave the musk, and the pierced palm has blood flowing out. The depths of the night, drunken the confused heart, everything in the eye is tilting, the wall begins to collapse, the speed of subversion can not be stopped. Only the incense-smelling soul is still wandering, and the abyss is filled with desperate atmosphere. No shouting, no complaints, only the weak figure is in the wall that is about to collapse, silent, and if it is separated from the world, there is a lot of prosperity, who is gambling? If the feelings of the sea are like a drunk, how can the heart's mistakes be redeemed? It is not me who wants to refuse to return, and this life is the peak of the water. My dream is a thousand years, who is the wind and rain? Looking back, who lost the mess in my heart. |
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