Woman, you ask the mirror, what contempt for love is. In front of the window, you opened a corner of the curtain, facing the light, silently watching the various men walking on the street. The silhouette left behind with a dim halo. Become the most beautiful reverie. You are always fighting against time, its weight is the pain you can't bear. Day by day, getting closer to aging, blue eye shadow, red lipstick, can't make up for the sins of time. The folds of the skin, the deep sunken eye sockets, are all potential proofs. Is it my hallucinations? You were alone in the empty room, chanting in a low voice, sighing at the puzzles that appeared in the mirror. "Who is changing?" "Who is taking care of herself?" But woman, no matter how old you are, you are still dreaming of a girl's spring. You are still every day, wearing gorgeous makeup, wearing colorful veils, chatting and laughing with others, but unaware of the ridicule and contempt in their eyes. You let out traces of lies, and you were only deceived by your own helplessness, as well as the not bright blood stains on the folds of your skirt. Caramel is a woman's life, sweet and bitter, filling the corners of Sunlight City, accompanied by the summer wind, waving gently. Shallowly broken into dust, and finally integrated into the changes of the years. And that kind of silky suppleness, along with the tips of the hair hanging down between the collarbones, quietly turned white, quietly forked, and quietly out of shape. What's more frightening than getting old and not being able to rest for a long time? It leaves the blank that has not yet been experienced as permanent regrets and trance thoughts, and gradually, it becomes accustomed to a disease, depression in the body, slowly spreads, and constantly devours itself. At the last moment before entering the tomb, make the most beautiful imagination. You are a pure angel, you are a noble princess, or you are a bride-to-be with a little anxiety and anticipation, please give your life a complete love, which belongs to the completeness of love. Even without a night to cry, even without a shoulder to sleep on. Only a life that contains, palpitates and moves can be consummated. Woman, in your understanding, a man is more difficult to grasp than a mirror. You never know, in his eyes, when you are embarrassed and haggard. Then, when he is far away, let him go, in order to save himself and to save the best memory.
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