Late spring and early summer - it was only a period of time. The memory of a stream of years needs to be picked up by us, rearranged, and re-recorded. "Linhua thanked Chunhong, too hurried." I closed the Song lyrics and couldn't help but sing. Outside the window, a curtain of spring rain. The defeat, the last rain wiped the memory of her life, calmly left, without a trace of regret and movement, to end a season. Ye Cheng, a rain gives him a new meaning of life, breaking out, without a shock and excitement, will start a season. The blend of the two seasons solidifies the sun outside the window. The clouds were in midair and were cut by the breeze. The smell of fragrant tea is rising slightly, and the paper that has been swelled by the sun through the sky has quietly faded. The jade burial flower, buried the youth, buried the care, after all, "the spring is full of red and old, the flowers fall and the two die." She buried the dust, buried the sorrow. Perhaps she has not regretted it, nor has she been sad; she has never lost her mind and has not been defeated. In a night that is wet by tears, we still remember her. Today, I remember the two lines of tears, and I thought of the mourning of her own jade in the dream of the red building, so that she could not find the heart, and in addition to the dust, she turned into a cigarette and dispersed. Taking the bookmark out, I finished reading her story and couldn't save her fate. Like a festering wound, it hurts. This book, about the meaning, the journey of the mind, is about the way everyone goes. The true meaning of life, such as the lotus, is so sacred that no one is allowed to violate. Outside the window, the sun is still as cool as water, breaking the pieces of memory of the earth, bright and worrying, so crystal, so transparent. As for the third day, there will always be a trace of sorrow. As if I have been displaced, I have no way to rely on it. What else does it have in addition to my ambiguity? I always heard a sigh from my classmates: "It��s really fast, two years." I bowed my head. Many days before, I wanted to end this three years seriously, and I will put them into my memory and wait until one day to take it out. Smell it is the aroma of flowers, the breath of the intoxicating memories, bit by bit, a drop. I am afraid of separation. It always disintegrates my memory. My third year Carton Of Cigarettes, will be the end of the week of the senior high school entrance examination Wholesale Cigarettes, youth, and more than one can not escape but also a world, a cape helpless. Really, my friends? What should I do? In the years of wilderness that annihilated the memory of quicksand, they witnessed my three years of time. The unique aroma of this young time on them made me realize that this feeling, I never forgot, never left. I will go to the spring to escape, but the summer is not near, the two seasons are so transparent, one dream, one season; one season, first-class year. At this time, there are always people who can't think of what they can't do, and who can't forget. At the end of spring and early summer, the jade fragrance of Saitama disappeared Online Cigarettes, the holy arrogance of the lotus, and the third day of the coming, could not wait to end and be promised. In the late spring and early summer, we smiled and touched the time that passed through the finger joints like water.
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