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2128701 2010 年 10 月 12 日 10:15 Reading (loading. ..) Comments (0) Category: Personal Diary
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- Hsi Mu-jung
so calm day, wind down the wind blows, day after day. Will the quiet life, a flower proudly to, who do not know. Always feel that nothing exciting, from the leisurely life is the part. Flat plain without many days, I asked myself: \
After washing the dust again and again the world finally understand that everyone is destined to go into ordinary, just like after the peaceful noise. Unfortunately, there are many beautiful life, but brought us to live with tolerance. Have failed, suffering, that sense of loss, always hidden in a deep. The peace and warmth over the world, it no longer belongs to me. So desperate hope of being woven in the past, I no longer look forward to Zoran. Suddenly they feel like the ordinary time, and its only done just goes endlessly passed, not for joy or grief stay. Since that is Tianjiao yesterday, but today willing to do the grass, also with a face of pride, perseverance in the pursuit of the goal in mind; also suck fantasy can pack on the grass to make End of the World, with courage and aloof ... but ... years, we see forever.
red sunset when I look back, when I heard bells in the evening, the former is filled with bits and pieces, too late in my sad heart. Most having left a life, always hidden deep ... very deep ... almost midnight open the door, there are always far away and float down the warm scent,
belstaff outlet, there are always deep and tearful voice sounded to just a faint, immersed in a little bit of heart. Perhaps, you will not be telling people about those days, you can and they were always illuminate your heart of hearts, temper you, or even grind you one by one.
passage of time,
belstaff coat, the heart is still young, sunrise or sunset,
belstaff jackets outlet, there is still a distant vision. The smell of day light, colorful days of recovery, were all such as Peach Blossom Face,
belstaff leather, suddenly turned into a kind of relieved the load, into the sky brooding eyes. Maybe I would be grateful for the grace of fate, thanks to the love of sun and rain, twenty-eight years through the site,
belstaff sale, it seems that most of them have flowers and smiling faces of the shuttle,
belstaff uk, looked on San Mao, Xi Murong years, often when midnight dreams of Yingying the moonlight in a room. Hustle and bustle of the city, however, hurried footsteps, hastily packed pedestrian stumbled my state. I have a dementia as pilgrims, presented in the idol numb with fear and trepidation in front of piety ... ...
do not want to write poetry that worry about the best interpretation of the life of three Arab tea: bitter, if the first life, the second sweet like love, the third but if the breeze. San Mao said: \Fear is the gray-haired, be done when a Zhu stick.
this is years.
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