Only a few days, then came back.

So, I'm a homebody. Home is the place for me. But, I don't have a home of their own. I have, is only a house, the house did not call me to the reservoir life Domestic Helpe.

So, I am the lonely people. Lonely as a single string headphone amp. Such a life as performers, walk street string lane, sing a little song. Difficult to play drama. Sometimes I feel like a show is not little geisha. People struggling heap, look at me, listen to me sing simple and vulgar yearning, sorrow boudoir resentment. All life. Grand majestic splendor of the melody, has nothing to do with me.

It makes my life song to sing all the way to the hoarse. Dry as a desert travel. Some sexy concept in consciousness in a blurred as silly girl. Yan MO forget beautiful flowers fangfei. Until seeing the solar term, suddenly cool to the heart.

That night I told myself: I have the disease, but I don't moan

The house amplifying human fatigue. Is coming home nuhart. Collapsed on the bed for a warm tired. Want the sun to press on the body tried to struggle and give up.

I am willing to accept, that from the high. For example, outer rain. For instance you Hill bell a sleeve arrows.

But all the difficult. Fate hidden irresistible force like punches repeatedly hitting the sandbags. In this world there is always a hands don't let me down. For example, you

Return reminiscent of departure. Some fragments flying, hovering over time. The window after the ambiguous stealth face, suddenly looking back to see one eye, then roared to. Strange and distant......

Remember earlier left home young, blind to elope, run in emotion. Don't feel like flowers left branches, all the mileage of pain and pain through.

Home empty like a disaster. I live in the ideal nothingness moment. I think I should be criticized. My love, need to look with eyes closed. Repeated search could not find a gentle breath parasitic in my room. This, is a happy blast formatted space. Wonderful voice, wonderful landscape painting, absolutely empty do empty

And I could not Paoshe it. Standing on the balcony and window. Who said the night sometime?

In front of the building the road lamp suspected galaxy, in pairs, not alone. Suddenly recall a weaver, still smoke lock in the opposite, never betray.

To all the cool and gentle, is carved in the heart of the disk.