As if nothing had happened

[REVIEW] I have thought to write a lengthy, is no reason to write down all the breakthroughs.But when I and others speak up when I discovered that the text is not enough to save people, and our intention to write articles whom spent it true, is not branded in my own breast.  Woke up the house lights in there, thinking already climbed onto the roof of childhood, in shallow impression this morning sleep too heavy, exceptionally quiet, even a little worried the pain, struggling from the heart flowing past.As if nothing had happened.  Talked about the rise and Nevis, talked about the emotion, Mercedes-Benz of traffic have disappeared in the ears, and even a long time out of what I judge not come before this have happened during the day, read the article by Ga Madan there is a ethereal moment of heart so comfortable, as if a black cat, curled up in a gap in the rugged stone.For a moment, in that article which Qingyang felt spirituality and poetic, suffered a heart as if hot springs, so calm.I was a poetic person, poetic text with a brief sharp, quick, like a rabbit ran across the Gobi winter.Those lonely poetry as a movie camera, constantly flashed from my eyes.I can understand most of the text that ran from the abstract metaphor.  I did not ask myself what happened, planted question mark in the dark in the dark, which means struggling.The night just, pulled the curtains, which swept everything from ideology.Shen interest rates go down, put to sleep.  I was sleeping so peacefully.As if nothing had happened.  Woke up, I still sleep in my bed, I have not been this salvation night.Messy bed, still familiar clutter of books to tense.Fire on the lips and tongue to remind me has been a long time, my depression began to ache from the moss on the tongue.That’s not a shade of green grass.I have already lost a mirror closer observation of mind.My twenty-three others of equal to thirty-two, maybe older than that, I would not call such a rare writer and tried to analyze irony in today’s society writer.Twenty-two, I will be old.I want to be able to prove his old best way is to have one’s hair white as snow.To twenty three years old, still do not want to order too expensive to dye tangle.Maybe my subconscious is profoundly hope.Mouth pain told me the night before that, the Nevis about too much, ask yourself do we broke up, as if nothing had happened.  I have to sleep on the bed, he slept for so long had little to meet.This lack of sleep the night before two times five hours, always faint reminder of my body might faint at any time, I did, disgust disgusted to treat a person on the move along their own.I often think of phase and not cattle problem, if I die, it will not be very neat lay, if anyone saw it, came from my side, and if someone shouting for help as people.Maybe it does not matter if I die, let me calm lay there, keeping a moment of calm, followed thrown into the trash, or sent to the crematorium.  I wish I knew the dead man to keep this secret message.Do not play, I always wanted my father lost his son, I do not want any people cry.If there really heaven and hell, I want to go to heaven.I can imagine the hell of molten iron flowing everywhere and burnt people’s taste.  I also wrote a lengthy think, is no reason to write down all the breakthroughs.But when I and others speak up when I discovered that the text is not enough to save people, and our intention to write articles whom spent it true, is not branded in my own breast.For many people, even the pale text we are depressed, are deeply skeptical, so devote themselves to whom to write a word of it, so affectionate, sincere show.I can hear your words of writer irony and ridicule.  The sun shines on the bed, as if nothing had happened.[Editor: Can children]