The literati, can't stop like others. In the English friends, I heard this sentence, and I feel a friend. She is not bad. The literati does not stop like others. Just, it is said that I like others, it is better to say that it is obsessed with the feeling of like a person. At the time, she is a smile, or because of her a few words, my heart is extremely fallen. It is stimulated. In order to write different love stories, I have different movements, but also different people. Gasing, with her, what happened to the snowy moon. Love cannot be defined. Everyone has its own unique love, or vigorous, or flat. This is why, love is immortal, for the topic of people. In the literati, it is necessary to fantasize in the mind that even the championships can be perfectly perfect. In the end, it lost himself, and it could not be clear that it is only the emotion of his own. So I can't know who it can make my life, perfect, and have no lack. This is the sorrow of the literati. I think, it is also a fate. Even now I am more than half of the literati. Warm and self-knowledge. Because of this, I said that my favorite person is actually the illusion in my heart, a shadow. Every time I met a little good girl, she overlap her in that illusion. Continuously like other people, constantly overlap. Because it is thorough, give up. Look again. The literati has no feelings. There is no feeling of home, what kind of emptiness is. So smoking. A short numbness goes to your own feelings. Deceive yourself. Your own life is so fulfilling. Like Su, because I want to find a home for myself. Don't want yourself to abuse. Fantasy her silence, it is really able to take out my feelings. This, I will never deny it. Even I understand that the Su Sui you like is actually existed. Just want someone to miss you, no matter who she is, there is no other thing I like to like her. With her name Pinyin, I bought a quaque of her Babet, in the bed, in my own mobile phone rope, the declaration of the love, the computer desktop with her photo, but forced himself to think that she is my life. Most, most important people. Just like X is desperately infused in our X-style. The soul is hint. that is it. I know all the fake, but I have to stick to it. This is a kind of sadness. This is so tired. Really. The last rain in the summer of four years, erased in my heart, the shadow of Su. This is not an instant decision. I thought it was a long time. Or, it is dragging the decision for a long time. I think the illusion will be more secure, and it is not easy to smoke in the night. But it turned out to be true, or there is nothing, once lonely, 嘻嘻, that is, the survey of the waves, the sadness of the endless life. People, also getting deserted. Later, I chose you. "I think it is because you haven't found a favorite person, the subconscious is to make me alive." You said with me. Try to explain with you, I want to know that you are not substitute, you will be in the past few days before, knowing that it is unfair to each other, but still says to you. But I feel that I am lying in any case. Text, you can write the dead people, and make the desperate moisture. too fake. So I don't plan to talk too much, explain too much, just want to use silent eyes, come back behind, prove to see you, let you feel. I am contradictory.
