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Thread: Another weekend, the

  1. #1

    Another weekend, the

    Another weekend, the long-lost sunshine was exaggerated and bright, and I woke up early through the thick curtains in the bedroom. So, facing the morning sun, according to a curtain of spring, brewing a fragrant scent, holding a volume of poetry, Linjiang Wangyuan. In the distant world, it is already winter and spring, and it is still cold. The clouds are idle and the sky is long, the water sings the wind and the grass is green, the plum red and the green are welcoming the frost Wholesale Cigarettes, the swallows are muddy, and the willows are plentiful. Dim and quiet, let the faint thoughts like the ups and downs of the tea in the long tea rhyme, so that the soft state of mind like a strange green grass scorn in the scent of the book. I like this kind of pure day, as clear as water, like a cloud; I am moved to such a quiet moment, no waves, no flaws; I am lingering in such a clear time, my heart is clear, simple and natural. As if you are on the bank of beautiful landscapes, the wind is far away, and it seems to travel through the stretch of time Marlboro Cigarettes. It flies to those long and mottled pictures. Forty years ago, childhood laughs with rainbows, swings and dolls fill up. In my heart, I spread my feet in the jungle covered with thorns. When I crossed the field, I never thought that the fat ass had escaped from the gap of the broken pants. The sun and the moon are always so clear, happiness is always so simple, and the days are like the wind. The days are as fast as the wind. Thirty years ago, academics became the only sweet burden in my heart. In the spring, the reading sound of Lang Lang was always as bright as the bird's song in the branches. The English words written in the snow with the dead branches have experienced 30 years of sunshine. Forever engraved in my heart, every day at noon that the long-awaited half-boiled potato soup still gives me a good aftertaste, although wearing patched clothes on the campus has never been too low. The head of youth; the light of youth, the touch of the fingertips Marlboro Red, the sun lingering, closing the eyes can listen to the sound of flowers, every breath, every heartbeat, telling the good wishes in the rhythm of life twenty years ago, Beginning to write the days of passion and edge, running and leaping, the pace of tenderness and lightness slowly did not have the rhythm of companionship with the wind. Time, forcing me to grow up, forcing me to leave the age of simply believing in fairy tales, let me begin to feel the bitterness of life and more, open my eyes and start to observe the world, the things around those around me Gradually passed away, and I am gradually getting older. The children around me have grown into adults, and new life continues to be born. I countless times looking at the faces that are almost familiar with strangers. Suddenly I found that the people who left were in the dust, and the rest went to the dust. If the water was in the water, it would be dusty after a smash, and finally the dust settled. . "I remembered that when I rode a bamboo horse, I turned to a white-headed man." The human life is like a reincarnation like the wind. The red dust is too deep and life is too short. Despite the helplessness, we still have to go ahead, isn't it? The red dust is confusing and disturbing. Remember to remember, give up the give up. The flamboyant three thousand, only do yourself, let the thousands of sails pass, flowers open, prosperous and devastating, only wish to keep this piece of pure time, sit alone and safely, to feel the taste of life. The heart is as calm as water, but the way of life. Quietly, look at the stars, smell the flowers, listen to the insects, enjoy a moment of your own, not disturbed by outsiders for a moment of leisure. In the quiet morning, take a roll and sit and watch Yunjuan Yunshu; lazy afternoon, you can enjoy a cup of tea, let the moist fragrance fill your heart; idle holidays, you can walk to the suburbs and enjoy the most primitive life. The state... life is like a song, the notes are ups and downs, the sounds are loud, the melodious and intermittent, or the joy or the sorrow, all have moving parts, all of which are the gorgeous movements written by life. Life, you think it is beautiful, it is beautiful; you think it is ugly, it is ugly. It is so cute, so naughty, once you have this state of mind, you will suddenly find out: this scenery is good
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  2. #2

    Another weekend the

    Myself and the lady friend will be hitting up good robot for their valentines event at some point this afternoon if anyone else is going to be there

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