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12.08.2019 03:50
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The breeze sings, the drop of Cui Yingqiu brings a season of dreams, the fresh and pure heart of the Qing, the sound whistle in the mouth of the shepherd boy, let the hope of spring plump the whole autumn. Strings of unvoiced sounds, whiplashes, and old cows sang a dull winter, sprouting growth expectations. Each elliptical leaf is filled with beautiful dreams, dotted with the joy of a lovely harvest. The seductive green slopes are full of sloping, full of heads, and the thorny branches are hanged with crystal clear, round and sleek, swaying green jujube. Seeing that the branches of the waist are bent, so pious, so proud and beautiful. A muttering green fruit is still doing childhood dreams. The memories carry the pain and sweat, and the experience is full of vicissitudes and helplessness. In the year of "the half-year grain of melons and vegetables", the green fruit that was dotted with a few pure dreams, silently watching in the lonely cycle, can you imagine that it has become today's scenery? One day, forcing myself to grow up, the pain will penetrate deeply into every inch of skin, ignoring the days of suffering and tears that have passed, letting the past fill the blanks. When I wandered outside your world again, I suddenly felt that the sour green fruit had already separated my world. I was very calm and relaxed. Standing on this familiar land, I felt practical and comforting. There is no longer a cautious atrophy and humble feeling Online Cigarettes. Picking up this bright green jujube, whether it is green or not, just the bright green, still makes me unforgettable and comfortable. I understand that in my memory, you have become a breeze, the green of the mountain, floating freely in nature; the pebbles in the water, bright and sleek under the water, a mature and determined And no regrets; it became the indigo of the horizon, which accommodates the whole world without looking up. You in the world, so far away, as if the old cows sang softly on the grassland, the sheep breathed cheerfully, the silky sweet evening wind in the flowing air. Still can't give up, put it in your pocket. A handful of jujubes opened the blue nostalgia; a few sour jujubes, sketched a clear dream; with this jujube, I realized the charm of green. Immature fruit, with green eyes at all times, is suspended with a fantasy, a dream. Walking on the mountain road after the rain, only this jujube child, let me nostalgia, although there is no mature hillside, no knees of snow to decorate the whole mountain, look at the world in front, in addition to white or white. The crystal-clear particles are extraordinarily cute, and the fluffy branches on the top of the head will suddenly fall down and hold the white, the neck is cool, the laughter is floating on the mountainside, and it is far away and far from the fate of the past life. I still walked for a long time. For a long time, in this snowy winter, he came to him. In fact, it must not be that I came to him. To be exact, it is the mother��s arrangement. The premise is our filial piety and obedience. They have fulfilled their wishes and contributed to our marriage, which was just a marriage. So, on the occasion of the winter holiday that year, I naturally approached him. We came to this mountain wrapped in snow. I still can't find the feeling that belongs to us. Only this boundless white envelope covers my eyes. In my heart, only this white, all the dirt, is smashed. Only the overwhelming whiteness in Wanshan Cong is very comfortable, which makes me feel that the world is clean, beautiful, and profound. Suddenly, my tears came down. For this majestic white, for this only white, for this no distracting white. I don't know how it feels. Only the silent tears of the dry wormwood are fluffy and propped up the fluffy white. With one foot down, the snow is knee-high, and the stone is swaying. I accidentally step on the stone tip. Even wearing cotton boots, there will still be painful spreads until the bottom of my heart. A loud bang, shaking off the snow on the branches. The bird that was stolen in the nest was awakened, and looked at us with amazement, flew away. We try our best to find the kind of appreciation that belongs to us, the tacit understanding, the kind of heart, the kind of hope that makes me worthy of a lifetime, let the painful heart comfort a few times, and in his numerous cares Next, I fell and got up again, fell again, and got up again. I don't know what I am looking for, I am constantly looking for it. In the depths of my heart, in this white, on the snowy mountains of this winter, I keep looking for it. That little red has attracted me. No matter what was in front, the red cockroach in front of me had a little courage, and I stood in front of the red on the top of the mountain Newport Cigarettes Coupons. I saw a few red jujubes hanging on a few small trees. After several winds and frosts, although it has dried up, there is no round and smooth appearance, no crystal and pleasant flesh, but the brown elf is still here. The snow-covered winter brings a glimmer of hope, a touch of warmth, a hint of fantasy, a feeling of warmth. He found the direction of my eyeball attraction, without talking, searching for red particles in the mountains. When the whole body was soaked, there were several thorns on the hand, and when the knees fell green and purple, the legendary reddish-brown jujube was almost all in the bag, wrapped in a pink handkerchief with a silk flower, and it was in my before. So, my hand was handed to his hand, accompanied by each other, we walked through many years, today, tomorrow, and every day after. In my world, there is only that red now, like the white sky, full of eyeballs, only and simple. Is it because of this red fruit that makes me feel grateful in my shallow heart Cigarettes Online, with that warmth, with him in front of me, I have long forgotten, but I can��t forget those red fruit elves, he brought me full. I am willing and unrepentant choices. I don't know what kind of moods of crystal clear and succulent jujubes, just look at the bent branches, still telling the story of autumn in the wind. |
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