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Beautiful wordless pain

Crape myrtle flowers, opened off the lonely fleeting, seems to miss the silent, but it is endless wilderness; blossom seems lonely fleeting memories. Not fleeting youth, but it is kind of shallow pain, in the memory, culturelle with a touch of sadness, gently breathing in, breathing ......
 
Youth is busy, beautiful and silent, we have no time to care, nor too late to wait for words, but fortunately youth gave us a beautiful pain, let us avoid the madding crowd slowly memories, let us learn a faint phase keep, keep a person's Ukiyo clear Huan, keep one's linguistic skills.
 
Cup of tea, light keep clear Huan, a better mood, and one plain living conditions, but also the most youthful appearance Enron. Often when the peace of mind, his eyes always emerges out of the curvature of the perfect smile, rightly, as if happiness is filled too full, the moment would seem like water from the glass overflow adjustable desk.
 
I like to look at bright and clean spark faint aftertaste of youth gives me a happy hour; I also like to write off some worry Acacia night, quietly appreciate the beauty of youth gives me pain and bright sadness, because it has a kinds of subtle warmth, like a neon light fled in panic as ambiguous. At this moment, I feel a little pain, but not words. Maybe it's just my own desolate sadness, filled with shallow pain, nothing to do with youth. Perhaps, many years later we have already said goodbye to the youth, this pain will become extremely beautiful.
 
Youth is fleeting silent, fleeting seems to miss, but no longer youthful as ever, lonely soul forever alone with, but can not hide the beauty and thrilling years left of sorrow and pain. Youth, electrical desk like a shy love, let me again fascinated. Forbearance containing a sad tears, I kept pondering youth charity once tenderness.
 
Youth, some swagger, the enthusiasm of the past, I would like to spend thick, lightly dependent. Barilla all taste just say, this is just one side pays youth, I was too young; maybe I have to vicissitudes of life, but I would like to advance some surprisingly wonderful time of youth, experience the beauty of the pain, even if the future one day need to redouble repay, I am willing to bear alone quietly quietly.
 
The way of the wind, the way the leaves, along with me to flee, but was reluctant to leave.
 
Years old my youthful appearance culturelle, the Red lonely dusty my heart, like a dried up leaves wind, in the land of sorrow Durian. It is the youth, the pain left me beautiful, but I can not talk, looked around the quiet silent.
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