How many times have I been in love with him? Pat: ? Zhitong. ? The ranch likes it, like the smoke, ethereal and rootless. From a game to a story, a sad story, a story filled with tragedy. I didn’t want to go into the story, but before I knew it, I had come a long way. Love, deep, like the hands of the non-stop cigarette, has always been burning. Looking at the hands of the cigarette burn out, heart pain, not hesitate to light again, is to continue, or give up. No one knows, only his trembling hands, cold lips, in the dark night wandering alone. The cigarette is one after another, is the cigarette writes in reposing or the cigarette writes in missing. They say that behind the true love is always hidden a kind of unspoken tacit understanding, mysterious, poor, as well as wry smile, is silly. I love it. I want to love it. I want to continue this relationship with cigarettes? I smoke desperately, but in the real face of confusion, I can get you the slightest mercy. ? Wan Na go all the way. Aimless. When I picked up the cigarette again, I found it heavy. Is there no courage or what, do not understand, oneself always so difficult to understand, as they say. I don’t believe I’m an eternal mystery.
Lit Again, tears rolled down my fingers, for you, just like these tears. I regard cigarettes as my life, I am afraid that once all the cigarettes in the world burn up, whether I can still survive in this world. Cigarettes can be bought, but what about feelings? If she’s like a cigarette. I want to cry, even if it is a little bit of tears, but tears for me, is also so hard. What I want, you’ll never understand, I give, and you want to keep her. Is What I keep is what you give me to survive in the end, if that is the case, I would rather not, I can muddle through life. The cigarette is burning, that year, I do not remember.
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