Waving, the memory of the far-away, with clear dreams, ridiculously broke into the world, thinking that this would be very happy, until one day, tears inexplicably flooded Marlboro Red, only to find that the place that could not go back is the only harbor . Stopping, I want to go back, return to the lost memory, turn around, but the endless vicissitudes of life, lost the most beautiful happiness. Then with the helplessness, the only surviving memory of the heart, sighing alone to the dawn... I tried hard to break the line that worried about me, eager for a person to fly freely, only because I want to forget the memory of a long time. Floating in the world, three thousand helpless satirize my life's attachment, do not remember how many shackles, eager to get comfort, just because they still want to grow, always backfire. Tell yourself, don't cry, at least there is a line that cares about me, I want to go back to the embrace that can be weeping in the direction of the line, but I am scared to discover that it is all the desolateness of the years, trying hard to think. Finding a familiar scene from it seems to be a luxury. Flowers bloom, seasons and seasons, just lost years, how come back, look back, the inexhaustible loneliness and helplessness around the side, the faintly visible peace under the vicissitudes of life, the smile that can not be eroded by the years, like The dream swallows my weak soul. Saying goodbye to young and frivolous, knowing the truth that once dismissed, but also lost the most beautiful memory. Shouting, calling for the goodness of the past, resounding the sorrow of the sky, turning into a series of lovesickness. How strong and how, but it is self-deception, but it is just tears in my heart. The piece of happiness that spilled over the ground, how do I pick it up? Is it a necessity to turn around and cry when I wave? I don't know why, I gradually fell in love with sadness, enjoying the sadness of my memories, gradually enjoying the words, enjoying the breath of the soul, perhaps only at this moment, can quietly guard my heartache, with That beautiful memory, smiling abandoned the world. I always look back frequently, thinking that there will be another line that leads me out of the lost corner. I am tired, sleepy, and close my eyes. The only hope in my heart is broken, and a tear falls. How many mistakes have you made? It was dark, and the lost corner was crying, thinking that the star that belongs to me would not fall Parliament Cigarettes, until it really disappeared, only to understand that the sea is the only constant eternity. Time will not be reversed. I would like to forget the pain of a long time. I would like to bury the footprints left behind. I would like to give up the unknown sorrow, just for a memory of retrogression, returning to the wave of the moment, and set it forever Cigarettes For Sale. I am too reluctant, thinking that the world outside is very exciting, I think I can get more care, thinking that my departure can make you no longer worried, around a big circle, with a scar, back to the origin, thinking In the familiar embrace, release the tears that have been suppressed for too long, thinking about the exhaustion of the concerned eyes, telling you that I have found heaven, that is the line in your hands! Fate gets people, looks back, familiar smiles are gone, childhood playmates are scattered in the horizon, seeing the most helpless panic, a wind chime, a geese, always escape the struggle of fate. When I was very young, I told myself that I would like to have a smile on my face, but I know that I only care about them. At that moment, my heart hurts a lot, I want to tell you more, I want to tell you that the world outside is not wonderful at all. There are too many helplessness, and your days will never be unhappy. I am coming back, I want to hear the chanting that you are worried about, I want to see your smile, how is the sea sangtian, how can I destroy the obsession in my heart, and how to abandon it, I will smile and abandon the world. What may have been lost is really just a flash in the pan. I am willing to wait for the moment of flowering, listening to the singing of the memory, laughing loudly, vicissitudes of life, leaving a sigh of sighs. It seems to be saying: Turning the hand, turning around is a foregone conclusio
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