The whistles, the uniform pace, the distance and the distance seem not so clear, because there are still natural voices invading things, they will be covered up, they will be crushed, they will have the desire to crush others. The roaring grass was embedded in the storm by the ancient soil. I followed the rules and finally broke the rules. The palm of my hand looked into my eyes and it was a throbbing blood red. It was an unknown unknown journey that could not be throbbed. There is hope and there will definitely be disappointments. However, if the person who seduces himself through all the spells, he will naturally not be oppressed by the wind and sand. At least he will not become extravagant hopes and betray the life without awe. The wrong judgment is also within the expectations of the gods. To find oneself requires a taste that has never been experienced before. The desire from the bottom of the heart comes from the guidance of someone who is diametrically opposed to us. So we swallow the tempting fruit and spit out the fruit that is full of life. The taste buds and the tip of the tongue There is a wonderful isolation between them, not against the instincts of living beings, but to lure the instincts suppressed by the environment to re-burrow out of the cave. Poetry is the indelible dust of time. The dust is the inextricable sadness on our backs. Pedestrians passing by here seem innocent, but they are wrong in not believing in fate and gods who look bright but are actually sour
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