I like rainy days, and the reasons why I can’t say it again always increase. I praise the rain and thank him for giving the poet a reason to be silent.
Drop by drop, drop by drop. The sunlight on the umbrella faded away, the sunken nails under his hands stretched, and even the lonely and arrogant in the cool and hazy darkness appeared low-key and elegant. Drop by drop, drop by drop.
I like the rain. People hate the wet shoes and socks sticking to the skin and making them unable to breathe. I hate the water splashing on my well-dressed makeup and matching. I am afraid that the laptop and paper in the document bag will muddy important information, but I like it. . It is precious to feel joy because of pain, and I am glad that I can still move my joints because of discomfort, because this suffocating and clear breath allows me to release the sadness in the optimistic cage. I can't find a reason to cry, the time, the place and the person... It seems that they are all in the precise review team. When they reached the review gate of the eye door, he waved his hand snortingly, saying that the sad document in his hand had expired.
Thinking of what I said in the article, when two people who love each other break up, one must understand love and the other does not understand love. After separation, those who don't understand love begin to understand love slowly, and those who understand love gradually dare not love. The sorrow of a woman is the maturity of the man made by his former woman. The feeling for love lightly brushes away the thin dust, still so delicate and cold, you don't want to be the crystal in my hand, and I don't want to be the ring on your key.
You said, any relationship is fine, as long as it can continue the appearance between us. I said, nothing, as long as you are willing to spend time with me. You say you can't do it because you have to work. I said that's fine, let's talk about love when you have time.
I don't understand that some people's topics always have to be mixed with emotional entanglements between the sexes, and they talk about plots that they don't care about very much. It's boring and I don't understand. Is it to show off? Is it sharing? Or part of the small talk? I haven't let go of myself yet, and I don't want to spoil her pride when she said she was a class flower. Seeing her raise her eyes and say that she is the first love of several people, first love? Alas, I would rather be his last.
Drop by drop, drop by drop. The murmured lips on the road attracted attention from the corner of the eye, a tiny gleam glowed on his cheeks, his eyelids were sunken by the heavy rain, his steps dragged, and there was a sound of plastic clattering, and the light as white as Miscanthus entered the red Huang was uneven, took a deep breath and wanted to pour it into the innermost part of his head. When he came back, there were too many people, and my small world should be closed.