This year

Autumn and winter for another year

This year, although a fleeting show, but it will be a myriad of bitterness and sweetness of common land turns into the sea.

This year's spring youth company good return.

In and Ogata Sun, listening to the lover wanted to give himself a child. When you set foot on exotic land of moment, remember her words, give yourself one of the most brilliant smile.

This year's summer in the muggy factory practice, all repeat operation day but unconsciously Qingling.

And various colour make friends, meet shout you France "dumb ass", Arabs say hello and say you "Wolf color Mimi". (For two-State language greeting)

This year's autumn, often walk in Heidelberg or Mainz, occasionally look at the architecture of the steles lightly carved 1785, 1839, construction year, hundreds of years past on how so? re-Qi, found that it is not possible and time as enemies, but the reality, however, a health sad and dreary.

But then also think such as day care, too, the contrary disturbs us with features that stretch along with it. Sometimes to Flagstone streets looked inside, feel cold adventitious be emitted a wearing armor, eg the Spear of the Samurai.

This year's winter shuttle between the racing in classroom lessons, and white-bearded Professor, yellow hair of her classmates to fabricate their own dreams.

Trams in the home at night, the unbridled read Yu "nostalgia", Rong's "prayer", singing songwriters of the "outside world", the good condition of "love is a word".

This year's Spring Festival, and parents together, enjoy life; shoulder lean lover happy sweet; and friends farewell, quite sad.

This year's Valentine's day, thanks to a bad phone card, in a furious in 3 hours not dialed her phone.

This year's Easter morning to domestic dial phone.

She said: we are still friends, I quietly said: okay.

This year's mother's day, future, buffeted, listening to mothers in the header of the verses and care, put down the phone, but a sigh, but no extra mood feeling, hastily set foot on the South.

This year's Mid-Autumn Festival, to friends and family of letters written to write it into the Wei's verses: alone in a foreign land as an example, during the Festival festive, remotely know brother climb, I'm doubly dogwood less people.

This year's birthday, a day full of courses, get home at night, cold and hungry, open heating, turn on the radio, are temporarily off off some solitary smell, two delicious dishes and invisibly yourself, before bed also received the blessing of the phone to a friend.

This year's Christmas, should be in the snow in Vienna.

Music, horse-drawn carriage, cafés ...

This year, began to dream, after lost and tense, end to a busy and lonely.

This year, I believe that a smile, think of tears, I believe a sigh, finally believe that hope.

This year, the longest is sleep, the shortest is attachment, is missing, at least that long.

The year after next year, next year after next year.

The day before, maybe and song to sing

Like, one day I'll feel really good.

Write this last sentence, the heart is full of blessing:

Much of the day open a door to my heart because thy long songs out of affection and deep slowly rise with Breeze

Distant dream lit a lamp warm morning night into the heart of human sorrow will never boredom punctuated into tears

I wish life without the cold I wish peace journey and a ride

I wish dreams come true if only lover does not leave the tap may not live in the world '

I wish room no scars may still point really humans

I wish the world without hate I wish no strife I wish joy to eternity