I have dinked for dinner with Shu Shu at night, and I went to HT with her. When she packed, I turned to read the previous diary. I have found that many texts are now still very comfortable. The children born on Wednesday are sad. I am a child born that Wednesday. It turned out that I can also write so smooth words, write such a true question, that kind of mentality, seems to be found on me now.
Half of fried tofu faces, half of milk, half is my half is my now is mine.
The tightening the arms, the greater the suspicion. Love is really fleeing human selfishness, everything is reality.
