Sina blog even admonish _

 This coming Saturday, at 14:00 on December 4th, I have thinking about it for a long time, the most accurate misses, should be from two weeks ago, that would be, I know about the first 12 months 2 pm on a Saturday, my dear, Gao Wei Bookstore on the second floor to go to the people of Hong Kong Yuen Road, Reading her new collection of poems, in the 200 poem, in which some of the first, I should count the first reader, read it, am profoundly shocked.
young, it would be, I have thought I write poetry, so I went to after 25 years of age, I know I am not a person would write poetry, or simply do not understand poetry, the most time in the arty, some sentences do not Shenjie indiscriminately inflicted their virtues, vertically laid up, really embarrassed, I poems written by the so-called direct profane poetry is, of course, my poetry was not only blasphemous, and I like to write poetry as arty as those who are still many, but they are better than I arty to only those of us bird Together, poetry this is called a child to spoil Debu light, and now want to come, really is a sin, that some of the arty high energy poets, poetry can be made, but also a collection of poems, then, to fish, the really the true poet to spoil destroyed, ruined a great group of rats shit pot of soup of the momentum.
say this is because too many people claiming to be a poet, the real poet is too low. not how the real poet
shouted, but added pseudo-poets all over the world pulling speaker, so, and made my
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this a while, warm active and sleep a good friend, hope, and it remains good relations.
night do not code word, the basic is to see the newspaper on the bed watching TV.
is Well I slept more during the day and not the spirit to think that the more, the more want to go back to bed and continue sleeping.
do, Barbara to be the same: perception is outside money, increasingly more sleep.?
whether it is not foreign money, short, and it could shake hands together in peaceful coexistence, is a very good thing.
my life, the biggest desire is, until the very, very old, and I still and sleep, and good appetite is inseparable best friend.
since because of staying up late Xiegao Zi, written in the cerebral cortex over-active and sleep for several nights, I was so in love with the night's sleep, such as pigs, with a few days, came completely adjusted.
I claim to be a super good sleep quality, because no heart no lung, basically wait until the pillow in three minutes, Hunran sleep.
father said I Shuixiang observed, as if the sky is falling, I have to depend on where in the dream-like. < br> and learn the virtues of my sleep, mouth tightly shut, as if the bad boy refused to eat.
In fact, this is childhood habit.
as a child living in the country, various country all manner of insects a lot, I am afraid of bugs.
especially in a time, I do homework at home grandma, I feel something itch crawling around the back, hold a backhand, took off his shirt, that it is a centipede, bless me, thanks it did not bite me
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this novel, is a few years ago. I was like, send in the Collection of Short Stories .
shallow love
text: with a good voice admonished
Lange born, and then little-known song, upon her Well, there is a color, like pale lemon flavor, light sunset red, with a little lonely indifference, linger in the listener's heart.
University received the admission notice, the mother who brought back a stout man to see Lange, quietly asked: Do you as fragmentation?
Lange a romance novel is being confused tears, then turned around to see a man asked his mother: What into fragmentation?
mother smiled awkwardly, to the man tea, cigarette, and said how well-behaved obedient Lange, how Excellent and so on. Gradually, Lange heard the wind out of the word, the mother intends to remarry again.
Lange started to cry, wet the hands of a book, no one know better than her mother, where she was to remarry, is clearly the tuition for her four years, will be auctioned to the cheap price their own shiny face of the Fat Man.
crying in Lange, the man Samsam gone, his mother stared at her, suddenly sadness of masterpiece, hold cried her thin shoulders and murmured ask ourselves: how this can be done?
Lange said, was always a way.