I stop the writing
I stop the writing, though we once loved seeming each other conjoined twins did not separate equally, but not escape eventually the flowers fall to the limit, if the dream have no misfortune of mark, I am from penniless to penniless. & amp;nbsp;
Begin busy life, is employed by a small advertising agency, have fantasies of the time stagnant appearance, illusion frequently.
Like bubbles to let in one " In the middle of the island " Bar,it watch that piece have hair combed there aren't men young back, the metal that man's dingdong of ruminating acts as is struck sound. There is that that does not have the sleeve jacket to wear, dark blue plaited skirt, it is lightly made up to melt blue, wipe the woman of the blue nail polish, it is that I think the most beautiful cello in the street that she is playing this, remember the soulstirring sentence in Yi Shu's book: &n bsp;
I need to survive, just because there are many people who hate me, I must live better. & ;nbsp;
There is that in a moment so, thought others, I have already fully understood, what is disconsolate and old and joyous like the dream, heavy rain in the cloudburst, spray roll in the sandy beach. & nbsp;
There should be dreams in life, it is satisfactory and incomplete not to mind, there are no dreams but the most miserable and most bleak. She closes the eyelid quietly, let the dim light of night swallow up her regret, her trouble, her happiness, let the dim light of night cover her loneliness, her miss, her illusion, the wishing of her. &nb sp;
The book is that " she is more lonely than the fireworks ".
Let we end to go to world go third of ;
It is a little cool: There are two new teachers in the primary school in the village, dim blue teacher is responsible for the music, she wears all over blue while coming, holds a kind of musical instrument that will play a lot of songs, the teacher says to me, it calls the cello, cello with smile. She likes helping me to insert all over daisy, the plant plucked in the hair personally by the teacher, mixed with the taste of dew and vanilla. I tell teacher that I wanted to study the cello one day too at last, the dim blue teacher nodded slightly, then go to carry the body, I see her holding the full tear in the eyes clearly, she constantly reads my name, it is a little cool, it is a little cool, constantly read one's own name, dim and blue, dim and blue Then the tear was dripped and fallen on the cello at last, like the pearl. & nbsp;
Morning tree: The odd number is a new Chinese teacher in our village, she can write a lot of beautiful writings on the blackboard, drawing very beautiful blackboard newspaper, the teacher always gives a lot of blank notebooks to me, but write down a poem in page one, it is the spelling on the uncommon word note, require me to recite, I always carry quickly, not because force memory, but join a lot of one's own ideas. I will find, the singular teacher cannot help falling down the tears when writing the poem frequently, have soaked the paper printed with background.
The dying young of the peach is shining, its China. It son on returning,should its room house. & nbsp;
The dying young of the peach is real. It son is on returning,should its of room. &n bsp;
The dying young of the peach, its leaf is luxuriant. Son of it on returning,should its family. & ;nbsp;
Dim and blue: I began to teach the a little cool cello in the village, her appearance, intelligence, had been seen by me in the past oneself at last. &n bsp;
Odd number: Nobody know tree I 15 the name of boy that year old love morning, when the emotion collapsed, our crime was forgiven at last. &n bsp;
Please allow us to get to the end of the world, does not separate. &l t;/p>
