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my adventurous dreams

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    ?

    Having long vacations confuses me.  How to spend it without wasting it.

    Days are like sand in a sponge.

    The more squeezed the drier.

    I have been in contact with the boss of a studio for a long time, and I have no urge to write a manuscript for a long time.

    Because of lack of time, but also because of ability.

    6000 words are updated every day.  10 yuan per thousand words.  They provide an introduction and an outline.  It looks very relaxed.  In fact, it is difficult to do.  I'm not short of money to that extent.

    Maybe it's because I'm too lazy.

    I really want to rely on my ability to make a career on the website and successfully sign a contract with the website.  But things backfired. After trying hard again and again, failure always followed.

    There is no comfort, only cynicism.  This situation makes me sad.

    The eyes are very short-sighted, as if afraid of light.  When encountering light, it will keep blinking.

    Light rain and snowflakes fell from the sky.

    It fell on the clothes, and it was wet.

    ?No one asked me where I was going The distant hometown, I have already escaped from the dream

    The weather is cold.  Shivering from the cold.

    There is a fog in front of my eyes, always like a scene in a dream.

    Eight years have already made my heart cold.  A simple time that can never go back.

    I want to be grateful for this growth.

    Let me have the courage to face the future.

    I have written about many people.  Inspiration comes from a deep understanding of life.

    But I didn't have the tenacity to write (Summer Blown by the Wind).

    I can't calm down to create another work.  I always feel that the plot is too fake and the content is too boring.

    I often feel hungrymaybe it's because I'm too idle.  Stomach growling non-stopbut no desire to eatthe tea room is always full of people queuing up to open the water

    Sitting there motionless, like a puppet.  There are piles of clothes in front of youcut the thread, organize the clothes

    The hustle and bustle around me has nothing to do with me.

    I exist alone, a tiny individual.  The door next to it opens and closes.  With the crisp sound of closing the door, you always look up to see who is passing by.

    Unfamiliar faces.

    I often fear losing the inspiration to write.

    I am afraid that one day I will not be able to write a sentence facing the paper.

    I turned around lonely, hoping to be praised.

    When I saw someone commenting on an article, it was like an encouragement.

    In the past two years, my dementia and ignorance have turned into snowflakes in winter. Someone will understand the helplessness and sadness of snowflakes.

    I don't know how to thank you

    Those dreams that I am very adventurous Thank you for accompanying me to go crazy (Remember this website URL: www.hlnovel.com
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