After packing up a roll of mats, stretching out to sleep, after close contact with the ground at 28.5°C, although I have the attribute of the power of the wilderness, I don't have the physique to resist moisture and moisture, I think sleeping on the ground overnight is a sour and refreshing experience.

Although the sky is used as the bed at night, the crickets are squirming, singing the most agile hypnotic lullaby, and the stars hold the moon, and hang in the sky for a flash, shining like a dazzling 3D image.

When the night breeze blows, it gently tells you that the thoughts from afar are so gentle and so cool.

When the summer cicadas are swaying, the sound in the middle of the night is so sincere and tear-jerking.

When the night is long, when you are the only one left in the vast space, time, and universe, although it is lonely, when the path of reason flows with a treacherous emotional tide, when they intersect and linger inseparable, it is the truest direction of life.

However, what I feel now is just two words: soreness, swelling, and pain.

"I Am the Emperor of Freedom" [My 213 Life] 75: Ground Sleepiness is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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