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100S, like a sea of ??flow - HypNation.org (Beta)
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100S, like a sea of ??flow

#1
king people feel that the soft and cold snow is holding a grand and loose celebration. They are lingering and intertwined, and they are filled with longing and emotion in a magical color, but its light and graceful dance is beyond reach. In this magical world; Snow shows its excess connotation and the most original philosophical significance. Here, life will fade away all the falsehoods, expose the most real soul, eliminate all evil thoughts and lusts, only When it snows, the inner stillness and moving left to watch snow in the wasteland can make people enter the world of poetry. That snowy field fell like a star and disappeared without a trace; or lingering tenderness and swaying; or lightness and floating, the curtain of beads rolled; and its light body, graceful appearance, and untouched holiness transformed into the blood of poetry , Exceeding the boundary marks between me. In the vast wasteland, in the great silence, their ensemble is an uncapturable sound Carton Of Cigarettes. It is singing, whispering, whispering, smiling. Maybe it is more like poetry, poetry, every piece Yingying Feixue is a piece of poetry, and this myriad of snow is a poetic beauty that is inseparable from holiness, life, and fantasy. It may be difficult for the writers of all ages to touch! "Suddenly like a spring breeze, thousands of trees and pear blossoms bloom." Snow is a pear blossom, but the snow is clear and pure and flawless; "Laxue turns into flowing water, and the spring wind blows good mountains." Xue Rong The water goes, the spring breeze returns, and I just think about the beauty of winter snow; "Shuofeng blows the snow through the knife scar and drinks the Great Wall of the Horse to be colder." In terms of snow, these popular poems are still thin Newport 100S, like a sea of ??flowers that stretches across the sky, and picking a branch to appreciate is more refreshing than walking through the flowers. Even more intoxicating. Snow appreciation and listening to snow, I am more willing to listen, just like listening to a deep musician in the arts, stroking the strings with grace and freedom. If there is but no sound, it is plausible; Listen quietly, and the snow that is rising, far and near, and high and low will sing and sing together with the wild wind, forming a strange multi-vocal music event. Does the sound of snow fall? I think so. Like the blossoming flowers, like the presentation of a beautiful thing, the expansion of truth, kindness, and beauty, this sound comes from them, from its poetic bones impregnated with poetry, and from our cherishment for beauty and emotion. Of course, the thoughts covered by hustle and bustle are impetuous, and the emotions cultivated by greed and kitsch are indifferent, and it is naturally difficult to hear the sound of snow falling. In fact, for a person, it is happy to be able to listen to the sound of snow falling, and it is even more beautiful to listen to the falling snow alone Online Cigarettes. The thousands of miles of snow drift, the vastness and boundlessness, the heavens and the earth meet, countless flying snow cages ravage the earth, dye a pure white on the wasteland, a piece of cleanness that cannot be cut. Lin Xue is independent and listens quietly, those dense snows are like autumn night worms, very thin and fine, like soothing tunes chanting on the heart leaves, lingering endlessly; like boundless nature, extremely deep and deep Seeds, come one after another, go layer after layer, endlessly; if the buds are about to bloom, the most beautiful ones, one flower leaves another flower leaf, and one flower bud wakes up another flower bud, unconsciously In the meantime, all the flowers laughed. I always think that falling snow has the same beauty as flowers blooming. They both present life in the form of flowers, and both hide life with the decline of flowers. Listening to falling snow is to listen to the deepest encounter, to the quietest silence. Listening to the sound of snow falling, maybe it is just listening to a poetic heart in this world of mulberry.

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