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| Now it has to leave. It39s like a light going out. Flame red, long and helpless. Sunset39s afterglow in my home-made light goes on green tea balenciaga bag colours and milk white, wavering between tables. Cast a dark red, like fire ring ... ... it39s beautiful. But this aura is not the heat. Beautiful mother, 27 My God! The beauty replica balenciaga bags of the sunset! Sad, silent ... ... In retrospect, it all Jiaoren how depressed ah! However, at that time I will know where the pain? I am very happy, boring and empty of life call me happy. Or, precisely, is the young do not know worry bar. At that time of night, in winter. Out of the window showing a dense mass of an unfathomable darkness. In my dark bedroom, lying on his bed, eventually finding a small endless ... ... for a long time, I balenciaga remember a star, as if in a dream appears. That seems to be my distant past lives. Childhood days are so long, much like those from the dream. | ||
| Entry 4 of 14 |
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