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The season has entered the autumn, and the lonely rain floats out of the window. It��s not a sigh of sorrow by the sorrow of the autumn, nor is it a color that makes people feel consoled in their mood. I just hope that I can find some clues of memory from this lonely rain. Perhaps this is the only way that my thoughts will not lose my way in this season. Due to the popularity of mobile phones, many of the greetings have replaced old and traditional letters. So that I am so grateful and excited today. A letter from a five-year-old alumni, full of three pages of paper, a strong standard body, a smooth combination of language across the wind in my heart, long time squatting. Just because of the season, even in the south, you can feel the coolness of the things you can think of, and the scenery is bound to affect you. I am a sad child, but on the road of vicissitudes of life, I am very grateful to the alumni who have been dragging in the distance to make my footsteps drifting in the middle of the school. I am currently teaching in Changsha. In the past, we have been in school for five years. The history of roommates is different. He later went to college, and when I was 18, I said goodbye to the Jiangnan water town of Liuyuedong, and drifted to Shenzhen. On the first day of the day, I often sent a little bit of the liquid in the working life to the blue liquid on the tip of the pen. Then I asked the green messenger to bring it to the distant alumni. The alumni also often told in the same way. Some anecdotes on my campus. Perhaps it is because of the superb description of college life that the alumni have been so beautiful that they often go to the beautiful temple in their dreams, and each time they wake up, they are completely lost. I once wrote my feelings and feelings to my alumni, and my alumni wrote back to tell me that stepping into society is the real step into the university. I don't take this sentence as a comfort, so in the years to come I can do my best to pursue and understand... At that time, the letters became our best communication tool, and we sincerely encourage each other and bless each other. . Waiting for life in the rotation time of the morning bell of the curtain drum, the number of loads is just a glimpse. Today, reading the letter, Fang Jue Parliament Cigarettes, "Linhua thanked Chunhong, the years are too hasty" is true and cruel. In recent years, I have broken contact with my alumni for various reasons mokingusacigarettes.com, but not contacting does not mean forgetting. Otherwise, in this fall, we continue to write in this traditional and familiar way. "Is still writing? The heart is in the dream, I hope the date of the book will not be too far, I wish success!" The last sentence of Xueyou in this letter. For me, it��s wonderful, but what more is not a heavy one? How far is the door to the Muse? How many times have I asked in my heart? I am not willing to pay attention to the time when the melody of the melody is always on the keyboard with the sincerity of the soul, and never minded the endless peace of mind in every passionate day, screaming again and again. The dusty door. But no one can ever hear the sound of my knock on the door. However, the deceased, how can you escape? Sometimes I want to tell myself that I don��t want to pursue the ancient myths. Is it a pleasure to be able to comfort myself for my soul? Everything may be sheltered, so those who live for a dream must learn to be tolerant Marlboro Red. As night fell, the window was still raining. I gradually felt that the coolness was getting stronger and stronger. I couldn't tell if this cool feeling came from the skin or from the bottom of my heart. "The heart is in a dream..." I meditated on this phrase like blessing and more like expectation over and over again. In the night, I entered the dream. "Luoxia and Lonely are flying together, and the autumn water is a long day." The autumn scenery in Xiangxi is pleasant, so a golden harvest season. Wake up in the morning, the window has been starry, and the rain of the day and night, finally ushered in the clear sky. Recalling the dreams, I want to let my fullness of feelings and sorrows release the red soil in my hometown. Can I still write longer poems for my life? I hope that the stars will be the answer, and I hope that this dream will always be a different watch in my heart.
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