It seems that it is always night, or the tenderness of the night is suitable for generating stories. I have stopped talking since I ate an expired can of pineapple. I like to do what I like to do, such as prying open other people's stores at night, being my own boss, sometimes massaging dead pigs, and sometimes inviting others to eat ice cream. I have done a lot of happy things and served a lot of people. I feel good. Although I sometimes feel lonely, I am fortunate to have my old father with me when I return home. I seem to be a shop myself, my first love is me, one day I walked into my shop, I fell in love, and soon, I fell out of love. Falling in love makes people happy, but falling out of love can make me understand a lot of things. For example, I understand that a store has feelings. I shouldn’t walk into someone else’s store and leave casually. The owner of the store must be very sad. . I've decided not to pry open other people's stores, I've changed a lot. I keep doing what I love to do, just stop prying open other people's stores. Although my father is ugly, he is so cute. He may be the only one I can rely on in this world. But one day, he also left me and never came back. My only recourse is lost forever. It was night again, I met my first love again, she was so beautiful, she was even more beautiful, I performed all kinds of antics like a clown, hoping to get her attention, but she seemed to forget me. Winter seems to come earlier this year, and I feel so cold. I pass by a lot of people every day, how I wish to have sparks with them, then maybe I will not be so lonely anymore, but many times it is not sparks, but tears. One night I was in a store fighting with a group of people and I was rubbing my head and blood, and when the fight was over, everyone ran away, but I was sitting in the store back-to-back with a girl who had passed by many times before. , I lit a cigarette and wiped the blood from my face with a tissue. The girl smoked a cigarette and ate noodles. This year's winter seemed to come earlier and it was so cold. Maybe because of the cold, we all felt kind to each other that night. Finally, in the winter night, the lonely heart has temporary support.
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