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most serious thing

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    When writing becomes a habit of my life.  As casual as eating and drinking tea.

    Like a frog sitting in a well.  Desperately looking for the ray of sunshine at the mouth of the well.

    I write about love, about life.  Penetrate every drop of tear in the bone.  But I can't write what I want to write after all.

    I am very decadent.

    Sometimes, there are also thoughts of self-destruction.

    No one understands me.

    When I integrate into the new environment.  People around me people I didn't know they all looked at me with mocking eyes I have not once complained in prose about this.

    I work very hard.  Because I need money.

    Pursue your dreams seriously.

    Conscientiously walk the road under your feet.

    My growth was almost overnight.

    On the paper I wrote Joann's name

    I don't know who Joan is.  But just like it.  Likes never need a reason.

    He doesn't like her.

    But they live together.  Like a lonely lonesome grasshopper, like the loud noise crossing a river.

    She is not Fan Xue.

    She never wears skirts.

    Early in the morning, he silently watched her standing in front of the window getting dressed.  She has a graceful figure.

    "Actually. It's the same when a woman is naked," he said.

    She looked up.  Just glanced at him.  Did not speak.

    Joan put the phone in the briefcase.

    They are not married.

    Although Joan is 35 years old.

    The girl works in an internet company.

    I can't remember how I met.

    I think she is suitable for marriage.  That's all.

    Men can separate love from sex.  Love is an ability, and sex is an instinct.

    He thought he would never forget Fan Xue, but one day he also forgot what she looked like.  Like dust in memory.  When the wind blows, it disappears without a trace.

    The night was very quiet.  He often suffers from insomnia.

    He stood in the bathroom, looked at his face in the mirror, and gently stroked his chin.

    He has no beard.

    He is slowly aging.  Even if you don't want to admit it.  After the age of 40, the hair will also turn gray.

    The girl is still sleeping.  The dark room.  Her breathing is even and transparent.  Like an angel attached to the clouds.

    He walked over barefoot and lay down gently beside her.  No matter what, I couldn't close my eyes.

    But he could only quietly watch the endless darkness engulf him.

    He cried.

    The wedding is scheduled to take place when he is 38 years old.

    Once I went shopping with a girl hand in hand.

    The girl raised her head and asked him, do you love me?

    He hesitated for a moment.

    Nod slowly.  Time is easy and silent.

    I don't know when, the definition of love has been vague.

    Joan is very thin.

    He ate very little.  He has maintained this habit for 20 years.

    It seems to have heard someone say it.

    "Fat people really don't look good at all."

    The voice came from the depths of the soul.  who is it?  who is it?  He frowned.

    During that period of time, he was worried about gains and losses.  It feels like a memory has been lost.

    Forgetting is the most painful thing.  I tried desperately to think, but the picture couldn't be pieced together.

    "What's wrong with you?" the girl asked.

    "No I just have a headache." Joan replied weakly.

    "Go to the hospital"

    "No just take a break."

    He curled up and lay down on the sofa.  It was as if he was looking for the voice that haunted him in a dream.

    He saw a figure from behind.

    A person, wearing a white skirt.  The wind was so strong that her long hair flew wildly, covering her face.

    She is laughing.  The smile is beautiful and beautiful.

    He ran over madly.  That person disappearedleaving the floating air.

    There is no smell of her in the air.

    "I want to find her." He muttered to himself.

    The girl handed him a glass of milk.

    He took it silently and drank it all in one gulp.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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