In the summer, when the night in the yard, I knew that I was called for a day, the voice became light, and the soft breeze made people unconsciously sleep in this moonlight Marlboro Gold. Young is always beautiful, even the hot blood is full of poetry. Frustration is my young spice Online Cigarettes. I am only grateful for it. No matter how bad the mood is at the time, now I��m talking about it Marlboro Lights. The smile of the memory must be strong. It is my belief. It is the reason to support my continuous advancement. It is an anesthetic of my painful soul. Anesthetic, on the road that can't stop, my shoes are worn out again and again, blood is dripping again and again, dragging my foot bones on the road like a fire tongue, but I just hope that there will be a touch of green that makes life tremble, this green It is not the only one in life, but the only one in my only youth. Those years, I ran under the blue sky, and said "no" to the opponents of my dreams with a decisive tone, with countless rebuttals. Ask every way to say "I want to drink the sea. I said! My feet are always upright. No day I am not drinking water, no day is not straight, my young eyes can't see the sea. Wide, can't see the stomach is limited, standing upright and can't see the threshold. I said! I am me." These young words will one day fall asleep on my missing notebook, together with my stubborn temper, but even if I am already The vegetative, for the dream, it keeps my eyes closed and my eyes keep spinning back and forth. I don't know what is a dream, but I know the kind of desire that comes from the bottom of my heart. It makes me in pain. Get out of it, give me the comfort that no one can give us, we can understand, come on, work in a hurry, all the pains of asking why, so far no one can tell why Maybe I still don't have any meaning after knowing it. This boring cause and effect, many people say that they are too persistent, but I still have to ask, even if the painful soul and body tear, I want the brain to be clear once and this is a too naive topic." No! This is a puzzle left from the source. What is today? Is it half black, half white, or half yesterday? Half the future, what is the sun? Warm bodily fireballs, or the benefactors of the eyes, what is life? Is it poetic to live or keep walking to find the answer instead of the vague concept, even if this day is far away, I will continue to chase, use the measurement My footsteps measure my dreams. My knowledge is limited, my understanding is narrow, like a cow who rushes to the grassland, but I have no regrets in my life, because I am moving toward my dreams and will continue to move toward my dreams. As long as my bones are not crushed, I can use the bones to write the color of the shining starlight. The grass is dyed by the moonlight. They stand under the shadow of the tree, count the rings, smile and discuss life. The breeze blew from the side, and I leaned over my ears. Except for a few small sounds, there was only a shallow humming sound. This wind was not cold, but instead came with a simple and embarrassing time. Under the tree, watching these faint figures suddenly become the brightest stars in summer night, one represents countless words, countless enlightenment, this sky is more like a heavy one, I do not expect to be this a summer night I hope that I can become a hurricane in this summer night Newport Cigarettes, passing every word and every word to every tree, every leaf, every dawn that will come, to polish the whole starry sky by countless A dream composition, we kept looking for it and kept changing, Paul? In Coello's "The Witch of Portobello", Ryan said, "For our ideals and dreams, we can stick to one day, one week, a few years, but it is destined to be lost. Our body is still alive, but the soul will sooner or later mokingusacigarettes.com. A fatal blow, maybe Ryan is right, we will lose the dream we once clinged to, but this dream definitely does not touch the soul, it is not deeply loved by our souls, like Schopenhauer, like Heidegger I like a lot of writers, but often I have not read many of their works. I like maybe just because of a sentence, a word, in fact, every work is the same, except that no one can really appreciate the article, we are learning now. However, it is speculation that everyone agrees. It is precisely because of this that it is difficult for me to convince myself to get the so-called liberation from others' mouths. I like it only because it makes life beautiful and simple. Writing can't bring me any. Substance, at least it can give me countless youths countless childhoods, countless good tomorrows, but also let me rest when tired, depressed Feel free to express, I like the feeling that writing brings me, it makes the summer night wind very refreshing, let the moonlight under the stars shake hands with my admirers, can roll all the year round in the green season, can be in reality And the fairy tale shuttle, can and can not say anything, my dream, the realization of the dream seems easy, but if you want to persist in your life, it will become very difficult, but in this way, the soul will not have to be wronged I live in a small body, and one day the body becomes mud, but it is still alive, living fresh, living constant

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