It's time to come.
I have never dare to believe that I will miss anyone. With a person from recognizing that the familiarity, it is a long history.
I am a selfish guy, never fall in love with others. But when I am lonely, I hope someone will come with me. I will rely very dependent on him. If you want to stay with me at all, you will accompany me to watch the sunset, accompany me to eat together, accompany me to study in the classroom, take me sitting on the top of the building, listening to the city .
I don't have an angel's face with the devil's body, no beautiful clothes, no money to go shopping, I won't cook, no main seeing ... I just occasionally feel lonely when I am alone, and stay in the phone number. I never conceal my thoughts, such as my favorite. But when someone told me, I just want to stay away from him. I always think if one day, I am dead ... I took the knife on the wrist, imaginated the scene of the blood with a smell. Or is a sleeping pill, a pharmacodyne to go to the extreme, whether you can see the wings of angels. Or there will be an angel, take me to listen to the wonderful music in the country in the day of the day, or will become a ghost, lonely wandering in the depths of hell. I don't like the old man teacher of the translation class. He reminds me of my grandfather. That thin, some hunchback people, weak. My grandmother is very speech, I also like people who speak. I didn't grow up around them. I screamed my dad to secretly think, I don't like them, and they don't like me. My childhood is in my grandfather, and I have habitually spent the petite. My grandfather is a very high, very dried man. He died in myocardial infarction in my high night. The adults did not tell me immediately. I was even turned to his portrait after he was dead for three days. I didn't go to the hospital to see his ventilation, did not participate in any funeral, I will go to class as usual. I just didn't go home in a month, although only a few minutes. I don't know how to face it all. In this month of this, I lost Demin. Looking back in him and returned to the campus and watching him alone in the corridor while he was in heavy rain. I have lost my trace downstairs with my three-year bicycle. Why do you think that I am a good child? At that time, I was drunk, took a smoke, burned all previous diary, escaped for a few days, but no one stood up and said that I have said to me. Maybe they think I am a good child, can you feel like this? I started nothing in half a year before the college entrance examination. Until now. I love myself. I like men who take me as a child. I am afraid to rely on others. If one day he is gone, I think I will die ... so, I am now, I have to go ... Goodby ...
