Bewerbung » They tied me, I want to escape

They tied me, I want to escape, can't escape, the end of the earth, the low end of the sea, the high end of the cloud, the outer to the universe, the inner to the heart, bound me, my umbrella has not come, I can only rain or shine. There is only me and it in the world. I am here, as if my dreams are as true as I am, I am so awake. Silently, it beats all the sounds that can be beaten on this earth. How happy it is, dancing in the air, graceful, I don��t know whether to give me exclusive performances or caress wounds with those little ones. Look at the sun flower Cheap Cigarettes, and skillfully lower the head that it is proud of; look at the little flower grass and happily raise the head of inferiority Carton Of Cigarettes. How light it is, it comes from the wind and goes with the light. The swallows sent it thousands of miles, and the fish lived with it. It is sacred, noble, gentle, and it often kisses the mud. It also plays with the wandering animals. The dogs shake their bodies happily, and the kittens happily roll on the grass. It is like a baby nurse. Everything is its child. Everything is willing to be its child. I am only rebellious, forcing it to tie me. It will not let go of the net to catch me. A gentle bullet hit me and told me to be patient; a gentle bullet hit me and told me to be brave; a gentle bullet hit me and told me to be strong. Countless times of fire, countless hits, countless reminders and care, taught me countless times to avoid. There is only me and it in the world, it is lonely, but it does not reflect its loneliness, because it is striking the world with life. It drips between the eaves of the eaves Cigarettes Online, among the flowers and trees, above the rivers and lakes. Practice a pair of ears that are good at listening to nature, and read the poems of nature with your heart. You will find that the sound of the rain is so moving. It is telling us gently: "You must be strong, I am your lifelong companion." It is truly helpless. People count the disaster on it. It is the place where it feeds children, but it is occupied by others. It also cried, the waves of its crying rolled, it could only cry to people with silent crying, when it was helpless, when it was really relieved, the world was only me and it, it still refused to let go, it has rhythm Hit on me, like telling me in a slow spoken language. The last bullet hit me and the world was quiet. It is gone, who else will have flowers and plants along the pipeline, and who else pays attention to the colorful mountains? The color in front of me was suddenly buried, and one stood alone, only what was in front of me, only tomorrow, tomorrow or tomorrow. While it was in the world, it made me see a farther scene. Don't ignore it when it comes to it. Its coming is often a gift. Don't be afraid of it. If you are afraid of it, you will be in a hurry. You can't take the gift. My umbrella hasn't arrived yet. I lost it and I was ruthlessly beaten by it. It said that this is what I have to bear. The difficulty of passing. It says that when I don't have an umbrella, I have to learn to run.

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