If you say anything that can change your destiny, then I don't think there is anything more meaningful than realizing your dreams. If one is sincere in heart, he will take good care of the weak voice in his heart, which is changing the track of fate, singing the theme song of the times, challenging the Olympic Mountains, challenging the humble fate, a person who does not submit to the destiny and does not submit to fatalism.
Man is about to put on a beautiful play, in which he is the absolute protagonist. He grasps the audience's taste and controls the development trend of chess game. A philosopher said that it is very wise, people must put all their energy into one point, find out the opponent's dead hole, burst out in an instant, can be in the opponent's unconscious premise is knocked down to the ground. Now I can't find anything that really fascinates me. Except for those things that are born with eternal symbols, I feel that only when I devote my life to literature can my humble destiny, even more humble than ants, bear the flowers of victory and fragrance.
I have a beautiful family, a wife who loves me, two lovely children, and my heart is full of the world and my lover. Every day I want to pat her round but not very charming buttock with my hand, because she likes me too and has no resistance, and is probably willing to accept my people, and then accept my touch. But there is a natural barrier or a law in my heart, and I will never cross the thunder pond half a step, because I swear to my God first, that I love only one body in my life, and that my heart belongs to her completely.
But how can a man, especially those poets and poets, choose a city to live forever? Wandering is the theme of their lives, I want to love a lover well, we want to complete that noble Platonic love, that is, there is no physical interweave, only the soul of resonance and complementarity.
Everything has a prelude to development, with the prelude there will be a theme, with the theme there will be symbols, there will be fluctuations and flowing beauty of rhythm. In knowing her small North Earth woman, that is, the woman she can see every day, her breasts can not see anything plump, but hanging in front of her chest is just right. It can be said by the novelist that the buttocks of two beating pairs of rabbits do not belong to the kind of rounded, but also exactly show the beauty of her curve. Sometimes when I walk up to her, I touch her abdomen subconsciously.
The full elasticity arouses aggression without lust. It's just a lovely possession and imagination. If one day she's alone in a room, I'll find the right opportunity to wrap around her waist from behind. I'll take her, because I love her. Love is death. It seems to me that only when Jesus dies on the cross for us sinners can his redemption be completed. Only when he drinks that cup can he destroy the temple of his father and build a new temple.
From the first moment I saw her, I was deeply attracted by her beautiful appearance and clean heart. I secretly decided that I would do something for this woman in my life to repay the debts I owed in the last century. I believe that in the past few hundred years, we must have met somewhere, and Ken. There must be a marriage story, otherwise how can we love each other? How can we meet, how can we think through each other?
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