《假凤求鸾Goodbye Charlie》
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地坛在他的笔下有了灵气,他在地坛寻到了生命的零度 可惜,我没有耐心读后边的诗,大概是心太浮躁了
I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 a.m., gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes. So what is the ultimate answer? Isn’t it 42…
唯一的一星给冯绍峰,长得帅