When people come to this world, but to do his own period of
practice, the so-called good and bad, joys and sorrows of the clutch, but the
period of foolish thoughts, and just take things too hard, or not yet want to
open.
At this time, the world is very small, small enough to solipsism, the other a foil when I die, the world is destroyed, for they were born.
Want to open, it loses its own, the world is diverse, I lost out. Sometimes feel that such a world outside, I know I am less than a realm to the realm, is integrated into the salt into the sea, no trace
I was holding a cup of boiling water, it is cold to go, such as the World moment of quiet, but in the end, etc. very quiet, quiet to-tower, to the old, I was sad it? But I think I have forgotten the sadness for a long time.
I want a cup of hot water does not always go cold, a total worth of books, I do not see the end of the total on the road, less than the end of, there is always hope.
I hope an old harp, I hold, not bombs
I hope the snow, snow full of white plum and lotus opened the road to make the implicit incense at lightly Xuehai between
I like the sunny cold and windy weather, Baiyun mortal, powdery snow flying, cruel and beautiful.
A fairy wrote a poem, but it is erased. She does not want the world to know I have, but you see, now we only know this fairy, her name is Xu Feiqiong.
A lot of things unconsciously become a joke, but could have been very naive to think that it is a long epic.
At this time, the world is very small, small enough to solipsism, the other a foil when I die, the world is destroyed, for they were born.
Want to open, it loses its own, the world is diverse, I lost out. Sometimes feel that such a world outside, I know I am less than a realm to the realm, is integrated into the salt into the sea, no trace
I was holding a cup of boiling water, it is cold to go, such as the World moment of quiet, but in the end, etc. very quiet, quiet to-tower, to the old, I was sad it? But I think I have forgotten the sadness for a long time.
I want a cup of hot water does not always go cold, a total worth of books, I do not see the end of the total on the road, less than the end of, there is always hope.
I hope an old harp, I hold, not bombs
I hope the snow, snow full of white plum and lotus opened the road to make the implicit incense at lightly Xuehai between
I like the sunny cold and windy weather, Baiyun mortal, powdery snow flying, cruel and beautiful.
A fairy wrote a poem, but it is erased. She does not want the world to know I have, but you see, now we only know this fairy, her name is Xu Feiqiong.
A lot of things unconsciously become a joke, but could have been very naive to think that it is a long epic.
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