help you. It’s just a matter of convenience
. Sometimes it’s a conscience. If disturbing sleep is
too chasing for fate, it will be useless; too traced back to the cause, unnecessary; too easy to fall into grief, how will you live in the future? Too much toleration of tears, will not really forget;
but seeing the basket of persimmons from my grandmother, I will feel from my heart the world’s warm call to myself and
admit my life, but I don’t confess to myself
as a good mother, but I still don’t take care of the incompleteness. You
know that in your heart, I'm the only one
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