A roll of history books is collected in the past, and a brush is written for a period of time. It turns out that once time has buried seeds in the heart, it will always be associated with the memory of your life, with the same life, with the same destruction, and you will never be separated. Even if life is difficult to continue, the soul is nothing, it is still with you, and will not give up. In the memory of the boat Cheap Cigarettes, the sound of laughter and laughter slipping through the slicks, lonely and sad, faintly in the heart; walking with memory, scorn every inch of time Cigarettes Online, every smile in the mind, every face, They are all deep in their hearts. Sometimes I care about the pendulum that swings back and forth on the wall clock; sometimes I stay at the twin points on the electronic watch; sometimes I look at the clock's uncomfortable walking around for a long time, just to find the abstract concept of time. It collects the past, it designs the future, it is invisible, it is unconstrained, it is soft and watery Carton Of Cigarettes, hard rock. Even if it is hidden in the bottom of my heart, it is still so confusing: it is impossible to find out its shape several times; it is still in vain to turn over and over to find out its habits. For the time, I can only sigh a long sigh, the urchin is always around me, and I am like a piece of dead wood, still looking for it, clearly buried in the bottom of my heart, sometimes it is hard to say, always There is a kind of loss. I have been continuing to build a small bridge. I have been crossing the river for a long time. On the Liaobu Bridge, the foot is calm and sometimes turbulent. The soft green waves moisturize the grass on both sides, and the waves are stirring. The waves are tumbling in the eyes, and the tides of the years are pouring into the bottom of my heart. The moisturizing memories are already dry, and the memories in my mind are clear again. Pulling the big net on the bank of the river and throwing it into this long river caught the most beautiful memories of my life. However, the tide surged, the pearls of memory shone in the sunlight, the big net turned into water droplets, and fell into the river. . I am still not discouraged, retreating to the net, however, the moment when the big net is sown, even if it becomes a fish, it is difficult to find the original after swimming into the river. My memory is integrated with time, and it is difficult to separate.
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