People can smile fake, laugh fake, tear fake, etc. It doesn’t make any sense.
You can talk in different languages, different ways, while u can hardly be sure of sb. That’s it.
人生若只如初见，何事秋风悲画扇？等闲变却故人心，却道故人心易变。
骊山语罢清宵半，泪雨零铃终不怨。何如薄倖锦衣郎，比翼连枝当日愿。
You can talk in different languages, different ways, while u can hardly be sure of sb. That’s it.
The city becomes dark but not dark, lights maintain nearly 24hours, Edison didn’t want that happen maybe. You see cars running, everybody moving, imagine the invisible and vivid life, suddenly can feel sad and helpless. How poor the souls are, struggling in no-fresh-breath. And u hear the noise, feel the low light with yellow smoky mood, typing here.
Moonspell’s guitare is good.
Why people feel relaxed when they really tearing.
You walk on the road, platanna dressing the street by sides, they like don’t know wut’s going on here, the leaves like waving but no. You still alone.
Wut u want? Even after really been to every corner. And see what? People fitz away.
I’m going to pick up.
人生若只如初见，何事秋风悲画扇？等闲变却故人心，却道故人心易变。
骊山语罢清宵半，泪雨零铃终不怨。何如薄倖锦衣郎，比翼连枝当日愿。
Ling 