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14 septembre 2011

Flowers, slightly cool

Flowers, slightly cool

It is only in growth just for growth. Perhaps didn't mean but that invisible dark land of deep, capture every drop Pearl's life, seize soil nutrition.
Sunshine can't warm it, because the mistake, so I didn't love, impeccable.
Without head and brain growth, no idea withered defeat, Rao is beautiful, but also detestable poor.
Oh, flowers slightly cold, decline of golden.
I open with blank eyes, looked at the strange world.
Dim silver yarn, covered the Moon served as faces. Night sky for her embellishment, instead of black.
I stars such as dust grains.
Millions of light years of life, billions of light years of loneliness. I always far, looking at the world.
Even if the meteorite falls to the Red Dust smoke raging storm; rage tempestuously, I am also a part of the humble.
Hearts, empty after all nothing. But could not clear. Just because, settling in, the dust millions of light years away as smoke billowing.
Distracting thoughts if the empty hand.
Even if the past is full of dust.
I can't think of anything, I think what is there?
Like vines wrapped soul, increasingly tight, winding in the flesh and blood. I was still unaware, I don't feel anything.
I understand anything? My maids years, medium fine, variegated life trajectory, like some ripe. I have always, set itself as a child.
Haomiao smokes, I'm just that fine a grain.

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