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The snoring sounded - Printable Version

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The snoring sounded - ylq - 03-16-2019

The snoring sounded into the evening with the evening breeze, turning over the yellow pages, the memory began to look at the distance quietly, the moon heard the sound of the spring, the wind rolled up the clouds through the cloister, and the dusty past poolside pavilion gradually faded. Stranded, the clear shadow under the will slowly dissipated, the ink dried, the pen fell sharply, the word hooked the strings, the color on the letterhead was even more awkward, the thick ink chased the flying swallows of the horizon, dyed my plain clothes and white skirts; At the end of the Qingping, the wind dew is more wandering, and the waves float in the blue and white, bathing in the sky and the blue water, and passing by, without taking the broken moon on the clear water; the flowers bloom, and fall, not dry and natural. The age of China is dying, and today is too long. I am singing a "backyard flower" by bamboo. The ancient Qingsong persuaded me to talk about the joys and sorrows and write on paper. When I am in the bright moon, can I still drunk a few big dreams? The electric flash bubble, the time is too mad, I invite a glass of wine, the mouth spit a moonlight, which has become the taste of love and hate, not allowed to speak, and let me sip a sip of the wind, talk and laugh; red dust Grinding the joy, the years are too mad, and the dark fragrance of the bottom of the cup Newports Cigarettes Price, this windy month has not been seen through, There are the most wines in the pears, the half pots are turbid, the half pots are sad, the tides are as usual, the life is too dark, and the night light alone is only drunk, which is full of clothes and wind blowing the thunder of the summer. In who's dream ship; the rain is scented with pears, who kissed the eyebrows? Blue flowers disturbed the window, leaving me half a pot of fragrant incense, into the night winds, the rain is slightly cool, wet and faint wet skirts; I picked up the lamp and read it at night, and read "Life is like a reverse travel Wholesale Cigarettes For Resale, I am also a pedestrian." I looked up, and the rain drenched my fingertips tonight, the red dust was too short, but the square inch, the red dust was too long, I dare not think about it; the road was long The wind is bumpy, the road is bumpy, the front is rushing, the long, slowly, little by little fireworks are burnt out by the time, leaving a pile of dust scattered with the wind, and the thin layer of wedding dress . The wind came, the rain slanted; people did not sleep, listened to the night sound, cut a piece of Tanghua into a thousand years, the days flowing on the paper, quiet, quiet, the gentleness of the pen tip, the ink is too light, sneaked into the blank; ink Too strong, stinging the night. This wind, I don't wait, just seek to catch up, this rain, not to bathe, just to listen, this life, I don't respond, don't go back, don't regret, just ask to leave Fusang with leaves Marlboro Cigarettes Sale, dusk belt Xin Sang, puts life in a pot of tea, gradually precipitates light, half is good; puts life in a pot of wine, slowly accumulates madness, half is good; this red dust, I crossed thousands of thousands Water, across the mountains and seas, with the light to trace the stairs, will not be concerned, will not be obsessed with Newports 100, will not be self-restraint, only in the thousands of red dust passengers must look back Newports 100S, looking at my past.