The time is long, it is night, I often stand in the same place, looking north from this window. I hold the moon, I can touch the silent heartbeat, and touch the ripples in my chest. When the tears of the moon drips on my face, I know that loneliness is a catastrophe. I don't know, whether writing lonely or not means that the true loneliness is coming Parliament Cigarettes, long sly, things are ghosting, calling a name, half for nostalgia, and half for forgetting. Because I know that what I can give and accept is only a glass of water Newport Cigarettes Coupons, this is the only happiness. When I love this world, I don't love myself. When I love myself, I don't love you. But now love and not love are so small, because my world is lonely, so I can't sing those eternal happiness and happiness. How sad it is to be in the darkness, to embrace the humble and evil light of mercy, not yet flashed. The next time is desolate, patient, and the body that is curled up still occupies the corner of the earth. The kind of boneless loneliness has never been cured, whether I am quietly admiring the flowering and falling, or playing with a group of people. It can touch me like a moonlight in a corner that I can't see, and eat me like a bird. The body is extremely weak, the spirit is extremely empty. In this humid era, talking about ideals, talking about faith is considered to be a life of ignorance. Expressing inner feelings, loneliness is honoured to be lyrical, and those who once thought it was a "goddess" or "male god" have long been eclipsed by the trend Carton Of Cigarettes. Therefore, I have no ideals, just like a small bird, and sometimes slap the wall of life with the wings of the dragon, and sometimes, hit the rotten ceiling, but only hear the long-lost snoring. Without faith, just like losing the armor that resists the sword and the sword, the world becomes superficial and the days become dead. There is no redemption of words. Life seems to be the iron bar of a big prison, and I am a prisoner. It surrounds the entire horizon, and I am the soul of death to be swallowed up by the darkness. Without the emotional catharsis, the initial tears became a hail, like a crystal deck, filling the eye sockets under the eyebrows completely, just like the orphans begging for joy in life, witnessing all the filths that trample on dignity, angry and helpless. . This is a kind of spiritual ridicule, the sorrow of life when the sun can't warm the cold heart, the eyes have already drifted away from this silent fence, and the hoarse throat can no longer be smashed. Sleeved with both hands, all the humble Cigarettes Online, lonely decay in the air Newport Cigarettes, tears and breathing together rotten, in exchange for the happiness of the afterlife, no more lonely.