A mess

The stream wind sings, the fingers of my fingers flick lightly, the red sun is gone, and I take the photo at the beginning. A little smoke, a smile, and a heart. Send red beans at hand, turn to worry, hang belly. One person drinks to each other, raises chopsticks to hit the curtain, chants poems, and the human trace is silent. In a chess game, one person played against each other, left and right, outside the empty city, attack its center, and feel sleepy. One person, one battlefield, the best general. Outcome who discusses. On the platform of Xuan Pavilion, the play has begun. The actors sit down, embrace the beauty, play a song, drink the golden bottle drunk, when the eyes are heavy, dream quietly, recall the past years, become a trace, and the amorous feelings are lonely. During the dream, women, men, words are unnecessary. The words of strategy and strategy can’t match the reality. The horn blows, the sound of war is thunderous, and the light years between the fingers are light years away. But for a moment, who is hiding deeply and can’t be blamed? The sword pokes the narration, the layout of, it is useless to stick to it. It is better to open the gate to avoid a blood flow. The informed director can’t resist the hatred of the family. There is no room for negotiation. It is just goodbye, caring for each other, and forgetting the tenderness. It is not a friend, the servant’s sword halter was opposite, and the battlefield swung away, while the country had changed and the city left. I am not willing to be trapped in memory. I am the only one who said that in the past, I once encircled three points of land and put them in prison. As long as we depend on each other, how can we recall the world of mortals? At dusk, the pavilion is boiled, guests are invited to talk about it, and chess games are arranged next to it. Waiting for others to hold on, the next start, the sound of wind, the small pond living water basin, the candlelight shining, intertwined with a piece of cold. Pearl night endless, round solitary moon phase vertical, Qingdai pen eyebrow, makeup makeup, and eventually became a forgone conclusion. One for black and white pieces, siege bogging politics, unable to retain fog paper umbrella, qing ci hua human, waiting for no mood, losing ground, harsh keep city, not into also rebate. Pouring a glass of wine, relieving thousands of worries, what is suffering is just a luxurious dream. In the old days, the setting sun was red, the long-sleeved green silk was in chaos, and they laughed and hid. The bamboo lived in the green green land of green trees, and the peach was long in the distance, reflecting the opera people. Now the beauty is forgotten, who joined the play? Who went wrong? Remove the red beans on the neck, stick to the temperature, can’t wait to open the mouth, put it down in a hurry, leave so easily. The punishment was scattered with others, and we found a place to hide, leaving a sigh behind us. Cold Moon Xiao Xi, carrying sword and taking a glimpse, dancing with lightness. The sound of the wind in Zhuju is the most suitable for the fleeting time. The wind is tidal, the eaves are on the top, the wine is on the back, and under the shadow of the moon, the smile in ytterbone needs to be recalled. The world is thin and cool, with a breeze, intoxicated. A thousand cups of sorrow were poured out, people went on an expedition, the old traces were mottled, they sighed to the moon, old people, small buildings, gloomy windows, soft tones, burning furnace letters, they would be ruthless if they didn’t remember. Holding a cup of empty wine, you will get drunk for a long time. The preface and sentences will recall each other. Drunk life also dreams of death, nothing about people. If a final situation cannot be solved, someone must let go first, leave first, no longer regret, and look for it.

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