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What kind of woman is it? I don’t know. Someone said that I am a woman who was tortured by emotion and was covered with bruises all over her body. She hung on the dead old tree bloody, and let the wind blow, let the rain fall, and let the frost and snow spread all over her body without shaking a little. What kind of indelible feelings are in my heart? I asked myself. I just forgot everything, leaving only the biting pain, asking myself what I was thinking about, racking my brains for meditation, and even moving out the tiny pain in my heart. Those moldy little secrets, those deformed once happy fragments, all came across my mind one by one, but I couldn’t find them after all. It is too much depression and too heavy, so I give up one by one, those happy, beautiful, painful and crying, it faded and turned into mist lighter than smoke, and let the wind blow away. Forget the past, forget the past, be a heartless woman. Someone asked me how much I should treat you well to leave a trace of waves in my heart. I also asked myself gently: how can a beautiful man find my heart blown away by the wind? I don’t want too much, just a little, a little. What I want is just a kind of heart-moving miss that makes me dream about, that kind of man who throbs when hearing the sound and makes me hide him deeply in the bottom of my heart calmly. He doesn’t need to be so outstanding, So Beautiful or So rich. He just needs a touch that attracts me alone. Someone said, you can’t treat me too well, you will spoil me, you can’t treat me coldly, and you will make me unhappy. Only when you treat me at ease can you catch you. Someone is wrong, no one can catch me, only I am willing to surrender. How do I know a woman! This kind of woman who is only wandering in the world of mortals and has been reluctant to find a tree for a long time! If you can’t beat, scold, or say, you can only spoil, clean up all the spoil, abandon, and find the next source of happiness. When you light a cigarette, you will smoke out alone. Although you have tens of millions of melancholy in your heart, you can’t find an outlet to vent. Those sorrows that are a little thicker than smoke and a little lighter than fog are lingering in your heart. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the 30th year of my WeChat era The year before last, my eunuch planned to buy a smartphone for him on his birthday. The main purpose was to teach them how to play WeChat, and let them… Comments on the Chinese version of “worry-free grocery store” Everyone moves towards a better life through his own efforts. The answer to the consultation letter is just encouraging an existing… An emotional diary of a Christian (January 14, 2018) January 14, 2018: Today, the temperature in Wujiang is relatively warm, not as cold as a few days ago. Yesterday and Today, Wu Jiang’s… Be a person who never stops growing up Teacher Lily coughed with a strong nasal tone when she was in yoga class. Maybe it’s uncomfortable, she has less demonstration action today,… An emotional diary of a Christian (January 13, 2018) January 13, 2018: Yesterday, my sister and nephew Little David didn’t come to the Dongwan village of jinjiaba where my mother and I stayed temporarily,… An emotional diary of a Christian (January 12, 2018) January 12, 2018: The day before yesterday, I said, “my mother will go to Kunshan tomorrow.” However, yesterday, my mother did not go to Kunshan…