Afternoon under the dusky skylight, each type things all are pessimistic.Pessimistic crowd, pessimistic street, gray non-branches and leaves bough, pessimistic sky.My world turns the blue suddenly.The sole color, the sorrowful miniature, the lonely form, goes out of Cultivation of Essence.Could not be separated from the blue including mine thought.
Better, better. Now I must buckle the heaven front door lightly.
The gate and the window probably already have all corrupted, has the paint fallen how also off, the pessimistic wall has also cracked the seam, had they all experienced hardship to the full? Is this my family? Many thanks have blown a Rafale, let the color restore the short normalcy, although it was groaning in narrow and the jam crack.
Very many things, must experience truly, only then can have feelings.The life is unable with the imagination, only can own participation by oneself feels laughter, anger, sorrow, and happiness and the vicissitudes of life and likes hating the rival in love, parting forever.
The air is bitter and astringent, the tears by change salty pale, again by palely changes painstakingly.Where am I at?
Pessimistic sceneryThingA pessimistic building, a pessimistic steam engine vehicle.Communicates in pessimistic waste gas which the vehicles discharge, the wind repugnant is also blowing.The rumor heard to be clearer than in the past.That wind does not calculate in a big way, but has blown the body actually all around, stays behindExtraordinaryBright pessimistic path.
Own have selected a tobacco, smoking only silently.Do I gain ground am looking the day, why the sky pessimistically?
Way Back Into Love：
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