While. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

Hearing, it's time to work, work, don't sleep!

While.

The man hung his head, and his unkempt white hair was full of ash. From this height, angle, light and dark arrangement, the old man can be well recognized, deliberately dressed up, he has never been seen before. With this scene in mind, I closed my eyes again and buried the permanent delusions in my heart and went deep into my bone marrow.

"That battle, or rather, this revolution, you succeeded in a sense." The woman remained still. "You are, I don't think there's anything to blame about you, because you're different, the kind that worries you." Disgusted, he pulled his hand behind his back in front of him, his fingers opening and closing distances, and stopped at the edge of the iron cage.

"What do you think of me, huh? Traffickers? Or is it an incompetent father? It's funny, what do you have to do with those things..."Missing some words, the old man was embarrassed, and crossed his fingers.

The way you ask questions is a different one.

Or...... Nothing matters? Or, am I wrong? ”

The Black King kept his head buried, and the blood thread pulled out between his legs spread behind his heels, trembling slightly.

His skin was pale and the firelight jumped on one side, and he smoked his cigar.

"It's cold. This is our common mistake, and you were right [then], right to everybody, with courage, with heart. He remembered those eyes, depressed looking, faces pressed against the rocks, lime powder, mixed with tears. It's sad that the reason why you can't create things is because of yourself, isn't it? ”

The Black King meditated, leaving time and silence for the old man to speak. My morbid concession is like the psychology of the audience, watching the doctor who suffers himself.

She listened in fear.

The cage was originally an artifact for the nightingale, which was a "sound", a living "sound". The Creator has allowed the creatures to mature in their cages, and when they are plump and jump on the railings, the "sound" has just begun to hatch. The dream nightingale is different from the traditional nightingale in that the former can listen and the latter can only sing. As for the price, there are high and low, and everyone needs it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it."

The hemp rope tightened and the flesh swelled out of the cheeks, and the terrifying scenery was little by little.

[Yes]

The man, disgusted at such a spoiling of the Creator, smiled and smiled with joy, rubbed his palms together, twisted and grabbed the long hair of the bird, braided it into a bow and crossed it, and tied it to an iron pillar at the edge of the cage, and the ends of his hair trembled. The birds are prostrate, the birds cannot sleep, and the world will always admire her bloody cheeks. The hemp rope began to relax again, and his lips were hot.

Like fire.

Such as injuries.

Look, there's another red circle on the ground.

Increasing the dose, she didn't know the facts she had to know.

The man waved his hand, not caring about the black potion, floating with a strong floral fragrance, the mouth of the test tube was refracted by a mirror, and the woman's pupils flickered, and the frequency skyrocketed.

Extracted from black poppy, it is mostly used to calm and atrophy nerves.

By tongue injection, the red circle is drawn out of bounds.

The palm of the hand that sticks out of the black long sleeve is covered with rubber, and the black king can't feel the temperature of the other party's hand, it is as hard as iron, burrowing into the mouth, and the floral fragrance is a bitter tobacco smell.

She can't remember her name, she just hopes that the man in front of her is interested in her, or, the next thing is just a little excited about her body, the reasons can be found in thousands of ways, she is a woman, she can serve, please, at least, there is still use value, if she is treated as garbage or a tool, she is not even worthy of doing obscene things.

The throat heaved, the hoarse screamed, and the fingers were earthworms writhing and pouting their nails.

Oh, it's normal to have something oozing out of your body, a sign that you're still alive. This piece of meat carries many things, blood, bones, muscles, subcutaneous tissues, veins, uterus, spine, and brain.

The whole mess, the skin-colored sacks, use it, all for me.

To feel, to experience, to cut off the crude channels of the senses, to obtain them with the soul.

Pour it in.

The eyes showed pity, and the eyes were filled with bloodshots.

There is water falling.

"Pour it in!"

.

The shadows on the rock face writhed, flickering and dimming, and the stalactites formed new white deposits, and then fell asleep as they explored downward. Clusters of stalactites, forming a layer of sparse hairs, drooped from above, unconsciously blocking the moonlight.

The shadow of a man and a woman.

Height.

The seammy bird took the wine glass, pinched the waist of the small glass, and couldn't drink it.

"Seameye bird, what's wrong?"

"I'm sick to my stomach."

"Seameyes are healthy."

"It's lonely."

"You need a man?"

"I don't need a medium."

"I don't know what I want."

"I know that, so I don't have any doubts."

"I know I have no doubts, and therefore happy."

"Because of happiness, jealousy and pain."

"Is that so, it's a circular error. I'm not a machine. ”

"Of course not."

"What is it?"

"It's nothing."

"A woman without a definition."

"Inquisitive desires."

"It still needs to be defined."

"Meaning."

"That's why."

My lips are dry, and my throat is protesting after saying so many words. In the process of raising the arms, the muscles are pulled, the collarbones are exposed, the chest is raised and curved, and the signs of pregnancy escape.

"Like databases?"

"Impossible."

"Gender?"

"Species."

"Emotional contagion, need treatment?"

"I'm not going to be so vulnerable."

"What if you want to be vulnerable?"

"Masochism?"

"I don't know, I'm not sure."

"Such a question and answer can't determine anything."

"You shouldn't have spoken in the first place."

"Then it's going to get boring."

The glass was finally dry, the fingers were released in turn, the clear glass plummeted, the light of the second deck of the meandering days, the figures of the people, the cheeks, the refraction of the cornea, the reflection of itself, the gradually magnifying surface, the rocks.

In an instant, everything is split into irregular curves.

"Shut up, seammy bird."

She only hears the dialogue she has created, disappointed that there is no crisp end of glass.

I'm horrible.

.

Navy blue nanmu stretches out. Men and women are included.

[Chu Tianju].

Located on the 129th floor of the 58th floor of the Abyss Pavilion.

Due to the altitude, the environment is quiet, and Hitomi Shaki hears the echo of footsteps, the moment she stepped on the stairs three seconds ago. The lanterns hung up at intervals, and the warm light flowed through Lolita's eyes, black and red, inadvertently slowing down.

It's as if... It's another space.

Field, triumphantly, caught the gap around the shrunken pupil and slowly moved forward. Now, without Sun One, the closest source of light in the entire Upper Realm is the Moon. It's a pity that the moonlight is rendered purple red, with the warmth of temptation. The pace quickened, fast enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with the boy, and he staggered up and down, appearing in Lolita's eyes.

"The room doesn't have to be full tonight."

Hey, but it's already full of guests...

"I hope so, Hitomi Shaki."

Oh, it's all of a sudden, isn't there enough of it?

It's something you know, and that's something I know.

The rooms are separated by lights, and the lanterns are half extinguished, so that people can enjoy the towering clouds, distant peaks, sharp cliffs, hidden in the sea of clouds, hidden in the fiery places.

The large and small doors are closed, and from below, you can see that the beams are raised from above.

Lo, aren't you afraid?

If you are afraid of heights, there are some.

Lo, do you miss home.

The other two walked through the door, and when they turned around, Lu'er was still asking in a low voice. She replied nonchalantly, stroking the gap in her spine behind her back and smiling, spreading her wings, a little bigger. Lull received no answer, untied the belt, folded it, and placed it on the wide wooden railing, following the girl's falling feathers to meet the moonlight.

"I don't miss it at all."

"I'm used to it, it's home."

Beneath the wings, the red and white kimono swayes. It is very difficult to see each other for many days, just because it is too easy. Luo, just like last time, rested at the highest point of [Chu Tianju], slowly groping for the signal trajectory of her eyes. This distance is too difficult to see, but she will not create such a complex creation, her dream can only survive in simplicity.

Who is it?

Lu'er was embraced into Luo's wings, her eyes shining in the dark, and at this time, she also felt that there was something missing in the night sky, it turned out to be stars.

It was my friend, before I went blind.

The floors of [Chu Tianju] are far apart, the stairs are curved, and the floor plan is like a maze, which is mostly displayed on the first floor of [Extreme Abyss Pavilion], which has a kind of confidence that makes people retreat. In this way, the legs under the kimono were almost tired, but when they saw the memories of the long past, they stayed and became excited, increasing the speed of the small broken steps, so that the stairs sounded with a snare drum cut.

Don't you want to see her?

Luo remained silent, let go of his wings, and the stars vanished.

"I enjoyed the detachment, I was sick."

"I don't want to infect her."

The stars fall out of their eye sockets and pierce the color of deep green tiles.

Hula, it disappeared in one fell swoop.

She was a little frustrated, slowed down, heard it, heard it anyway.

.

The wings wiped the square circle behind the girl, the brilliance of the [king], the renormalization after the quantum reached the photon level, the heat sprayed thin, and she fell to the ground when she took it, and she was overwhelmed, her mother had such power, and her emotions other than pride were all nonsense.

Melt the throne, and pull out the hilt of the sword, the clock, the dust overflows, and the light pushes everything away.

What beautiful shape do you want?

What kind of history do you want to treasure?

[Fantasy Theory] has changed its appearance, transformed into tens of millions of free will records in the old era, with its own symbol symbol, in a hidden dream

I want to get the highest freedom of growth and majesty.

I poured out so much of my singing voice

From the deep spring, the sweetness gushes out

Crawl along the limbs to the fingers palpable, limit

And untie the chain of life in the body

Not yet, you can lend me a psalm to your ears

Sow a full proof of the problem

time

[The last paragraph of the long poem dedicated by Lucretius to the famous Miyo in ancient Rome]

In the end, the White Cross decided that [Fantasy] must become armor, a heavy sword, and a dragon head skeleton that gives time.

It's an obligation.

Obligation to the dream world.

The cycle of rebellion against free will is approaching, and the Black King is the first representative of free will, but lacks numerical superiority. Black Cross must have had his own thoughts, and his desire to get her was never diminished.

The Temple of Consciousness has since lost its [Fantasy Theory], and the record of its displacement is in the hands of the king. She finally admitted that she was a small part of her free will, in exchange for the time when she was in charge of the word "balance".

When she pulled it, the weight and texture of the chain came from her hand. The writer's account is really amazing, the "world" on the other side is actually a reflection of a part of the dream world, and the [fantasy theory] is hidden as a throne, which is a metaphor. Excluding the symbolism behind the metaphors, the contents of the other two [books] are also necessary, and the synthesis of bridges to the real world is no longer just a place of light.

She took her hand and saw the huge symbol of the four elements on the surface of the central temple of consciousness. The Greek Four Elements say that this is also a clue, but it is not clear. We can know the other guys behind the four elements who don't show up, and the element of ourselves, the pure spirit.

The idea was great, and the little man who took the time resolutely half-crouched down, holding the chain in his hand, imagining what kind of surprise the rebels of free will would have.

And I can't smile anymore.

"It's worth it."