"A curious disciple asked me, the wind blows the branches, is it the wind? Moving, but the leaves are not moving? I answered blindfolded, no, just my heart is moving."
Is it a dark sky today, the sun is like a broom, or is it because I closed my eyes?
Between the two, the feelings are in harmony, is it his fault that he loves? Or did she betray and get sin?
The boss and him, is the boss unable to execute first, or is it the son's fault that he refuses to obey?
Even if you are wrong, you have to do it, and if you don't do it, it is even more wrong.
This little rose sticks to the blood and flows smoothly with snow, but it is very fragrant. This little story is like a peaceful flower, without sound, looking sour and sweet, bittersweet.
Love is also imprisoned in the panoramic glass, statically in the dead space. A man knelt on the wet grass outside, his knees icy, and an unforgiving wind knife blew.
"Is your heart moving?"
That luxurious and classy girl did not do her own family chores at will, listening to music, trying on new dresses, and calling her girlfriend and boyfriend.
The person outside couldn't hear, only the droplets of rain fell to his ears.
It was getting dark, her eyes melted like clouds, and it started to rain. It was dawn again, and she opened her eyes. She waited all night and the girl's boyfriend would never come again.
Her only clue was someone outside, and she asked him,
"Is it all because of me?"
That person's long face was so lonely.
"No"
and walked away to the dark place.
Two people don't know each other, it can't be said to be a crush, it can only be said to be a dream.
"The disciple asked me, why are you crying? I said, because I had a good dream. The disciple asked again, why are you crying? I explained, because this dream will never come true."
I finally understood. . .
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