The paragraph updated today and the day after tomorrow is a text that is tried as an experimental text, so it has little relevance to the main text. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

Recently, I have been thinking about my future path, and I have thought about working as an amateur fiction writer or a freelancer contributing to magazines, but my current main business is still interior design.

The work related to drawing is getting busier and busier, so it's understandable that the term about architecture often appears in the novel, and it's also a small feature of mine.

In the future, there will be more references to the history of architecture and RB culture, and there will be more concepts about psychology and science fiction, so I think it will form my own unique style.

There should still be a few years to go before the hybrid journey, and as for the debut that most people say, I don't think there will be a chance unless I meet the right person.

In the world of fiction, I am frightened by the sheer number of words in circulation, but I am glad that the deliberate repetition of self-interest has been despised and punished.

November 5, 2016

Josh, University of Newcastle, UK【hou】

.

Paragraph Formulation Test

We opened our eyes, but there was no living technique, so we could only see the distant shadow of the black and white cross in history, the kind of surface window flower born under the sun No. 1, a little bit to support the tightness of human beings to embrace the dream world, and the Edipas complex finally occupied our first impression. And, the writer is followed by his own verbs, striking and kneading countless dreams and dreams on different hierarchical structures. As the concept of age goes away, the relationship between the usher and the dream body gradually decreases, or, there is no weight. Is it floating? Who can lead whom to endless sleep? If it were not for the loss of good eyesight, creation would tend to be homogeneous and orderly, and all we want is a little illusory solace in this long dream—the beauty of reality envy—to be awakely recognized and conscious.

Meaning circle ascent test

White Cross scratched her head, the thought jumped up and down, and she hurriedly touched her own person, and confirmed from the other person's eyes that she did not have a nosebleed. In my hurry to bother with the pages, I tried to find some fault zone between the dream world and the material world, but I was surprised that the writer was also peeping, and in a hurry, I pressed the book again. The track of the high-voltage line gun coincided with mine, the cracked cane on my back that had lost its permanent sequence, the third hand changed the ammunition, the hot acid ripped open the joints, and I could only fall on my stomach, the frame extended, and the heat flowed down.

Crackling, biting, the rod cooling, overturned me.

The recoil is excessive, the blood is yellow and red, and the bone germanium is white.

"You have to unplug it!"

My heart aches, as the vessel of the organs, the four hearts are invincible to the highest principles of the Warfare Sect, panting, breathing, and the frequency of the square wave is no longer circumferential.

"The writer is not injured!"

I cursed, cocked my thumb, Black Buddha obeyed, the top of his feet moved, Lu'er covered his ears, sweat waving.

In the last minute before the dream world reaches zero, no one can create anything, we are just constantly stockpiling.

"It's unfortunate... Dream Classic....Dream Classic..."

The fourth heart is in the form of a triangular cone, the white cross spins up, and the black cross sees the two footprints on the side, getting deeper and deeper...

She was the last martyr and the only god with a filthy female body.

She once said that she was not fascinated by the throne, that no one praised her clothes, or that she was numb in love and hate, that the white intoxicated sea of cherry blossoms, that the girls walked through the church of the martyrs, that they sang together about the idea of conception, and that the hot kisses on the deck of the heavenly years burned.

She is the last poem.

"Write that sentence on the first sentence of the Dream Book."

I looked at her, but my hands were gesturing.

[The history described below is false.] 】

The wreckage of the creation flew beside him, pulling out the white threads of blood, color, sighs, metaphors, dreams, and unreality.

Thank you!

Dream Realm-!

"She's the last poem."

Lu'er heard her shout, not harsh, like the sorrow of the morning glow's freedom, penetrating the auditory line of the world, dragging the consciousness to walk the symbol far away.

In this way, the meaning of the word dream will change radically. The dream world no longer exists, and the Dream Book is deconstructed in a concept, and the writer naturally cannot eliminate her, and what "her" did.

For the White Cross, this phrase, in the name of her will, carries out the last self-referential dissolution in history, a perfect argument and sensory deconstruction.

She slammed the book close and pressed it to her lips, letting it feel her warm lips. At this time, then, when, the woman held the pen and interpreted the meaning of the self-confident life world with a standing posture, closing her eyes and covering her body with a book.

"I am my [Yuan Creation], your little girl, now, grown, big. The Three Laws, the Theory of Fear, the Theory of Justice, and the Theory of Illusion, are all false, and you cannot make meaningful sublimations to a meaningless proposition. ”

With the moon in hand, the legs are slender, the side is cut and the torso is bent, and the shoulders and soles are balanced.

"What a stupid conclusion."

He doesn't say pretty things, because there is no audience in the empty dream world.

"This is the lowest virtue of logic."

.

Metaphor connectivity test

Lu'er picked up the wine, the wine was crimson, and she seemed to be able to hear the comfort of Sheng Fei in the swaying, and hurriedly turned sideways to the cold white tofu on the plate.

Love, the city that never sleeps in a goblet.

The White Cross reached out, focusing on the emotional parameters that could be touched between his fingers, but they each aged until the end of the time dimension, under that endless stretch of cheek. Wrinkles squeezed the girl's eyebrows and feet, she carried huge roses on her back, she stepped on night black high heels, untied the staggered chest straps, and dozens of family lines of eyes, opened and extinguished together.

"You speak, but what can you say, you have made me speechless love, silent for many years, when I was old..."

She was out of breath.

"I can't talk to you anymore, make something delicious and wait for you to get home, and look at the color of the picture frame together... Together..."

She stroked Time Dimension's waist and repented.

"I didn't have honesty when I was in the maple woods... I also don't have the courage to push your legs and snort away. I don't know how spicy a scumbag like you is, I want it, I still need that taste... I'm sorry... I'm tired..."

The girl leaned on her knees, kept her upper body upright, rubbed the petals with her shriveled palms, scattered the tips of her gray hair, and sharpened her eyes.

This is a leap year that has just turned five figures.

The light of the church atrium was moist with pain.

It is also an old thorn that spreads into memory.

.

"I'm not a dream thing, I'm an illegitimate child after the thought is conceived."

Her eyes were upside down with the family crest of the theoretical pendulum.

"When people accuse, they always hear it, use it, and hate my name."

I threw out a puzzle gesture.

"Justice."

Incidentally, it wasn't until someone pulled up the placket of his shirt that he was ashamed and frightened.

"Animals are beautiful in males."

Ah, so my avoidance is just habit?

But how can you be so neutral now!

The reason is nothing more than those embarrassing sails in the drunken harbor.

.

.

High-level rhetorical character test

Her gaze pierced his doubts, beyond George's shriveled panic, to find the hiding place of her lie in Lu'er's lovely exclamation.

The season when the Black King wields his sword, like a color smeared on a canvas, sketches a defeated Eden circle in the slippery brushstrokes, and this painting is sold for a high price.

"I like you, can I?"

"There is no water coming out of the small holes of honeycomb coal."

When the self-propelled boat fits and separates, and the dumplings roll in the pot, people jump into the water, this cauldron of the sky. To say that frogs like warm water is rather stupid, like animalistic puzzles embedded in a human fairy tale.

Comfort, the most practical secret weapon!

.

Formal fugue test

"Yay? Who does the White Cross like? ”

"People don't like the White Cross."

"Does Shiro like God?"

"God doesn't care about the White Cross."

"White Cross likes creatures like you?"

"I am a creature, but as you say, I am not bad."

.

The figurative colossus dwells in abstract nostalgia.

My colossus, not abstract at all.

George gave the bird a blank look.

Streaming lights like some stories about a thousand songs.

It is mentioned in the story that Flowing Lantern likes some stories about Qiange.

In the story, it is also said that about Qiange, there are people who like him.

People who like him don't think so, and run out of the story.

The story embraces reality, and the stream lamp hands out a bouquet of flowers.

In front of the tomb of Qiange.

That echo...

There are vague titles in it, wandering through the space.

Who are the voicers?

The White Cross pondered, and at the same time, took out the horn and blew...

Toot - - !

"Still in bed!"

Black Cross looked at her with teary eyes, trance, trance.

"Toot-, you make a sound like this, huh?"

White Cross hid under the covers and begged.