The youth that is cherished with the flow of the year is swaying and squandering. After all, it is a sacred object to be sacrificed. Grab a sacred land, scatter it in a mess, and the land is full of ambiguity. ---- Inscription He said that adults never understand the suffering of children, even though we have grown up. I nodded, thoughtfully, Liu Mei slightly wrinkled. Some things, after a second of contact, will understand its past and even predict its future; some things, even if they have been in contact for a year or two or even decades, are still indifferently rejected. Just like the flow of the year, ruthlessly refused to stay, but also took away the tangled yesterday, the day before yesterday, a few days ago. Those little bits of youth, consciously connected into several lines, and then weaved a network that is not meticulous, and carelessly missed a lot of time, but still did not realize it is a pity. He used the brush to record those years Newport 100S, and I used words to commemorate my youth. He painted the most, it was me. The most beautiful thing he painted was me. The most casual of his paintings is also me. I used only a few strokes to draw my outline, expressive and not artificial. He said that it was the past me, not the present; he said that it is the future of me, not the present. Well, I think so too, because sometimes I don��t meet those scenes, I have never seen those clothes, and those things have never been with me. The past is over; the things of tomorrow are unpredictable. The stars are no longer the flash of the sky. The plane he left took off at 7:37. Where to fly, he does not speak. After he left, I tried to make some friends, try to lengthen the time of chatting, try not to be cold. I don't like the kind of embarrassing scenes. If I meet silently Newport Cigarettes, I would rather not meet. But when you get along with him, the silence is the most, but never. I have not found this unique cognition from anyone else. He has lived in my past tense. Everything about him, only need to pay homage, not even missing a chance to see a familiar sketch in the pictorial. The drooping bangs slanted over the earbrows and placed them on the ears. The earrings on the earlobe were inlaid with star-shaped stones, and behind them was a delicate drooping willow. The name of the painting: the youth that was sacrificed by the passing of the year. Some people rushed away when they were intentionally or unintentionally Cheap Cigarettes. Traveling through the gaps in the sun, the self is facing the sky. Perhaps, I am also his past tense, so he used the years of the past to pay homage to my past. However, we are not the ones who are the other, who have not been the sustenance of each other, and it has not been... Does youth need to pay homage to prove its existence? youth? It seems that the funny clown flies around the round dance field and screams, and is witnessed by every visitor. Later, I received a postcard. It should have been sent by him, but there is no signature. The message area is painted with a single-winged butterfly, full of enchanting wings. The edges are very delicately drawn stars. Recipient: Luo Xiaoyu. The postmark is a text that cannot be understood. The front of the postcard is printed with the Eiffel Tower, which is very abruptly pointed at the dome. The tower is crowded and not so coordinated. He once said that he is like a winged butterfly, quietly resting on the core of the vine, and sniffing The fragrance of death.

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