July 21, diary

The cars after work are very congested

Looking at their own experiences, they all seem particularly bitter

Want to find someone to vent, press resist impulse

Consolation is to fill the gap of discontent and expansion

How many times are the buses full

Empty waiting for empty cars, wandering in the station

From reading a book without pause space

But I don't know where the breath comes from

You roll up your sleeves and unbutton your collar

Energy overdraft, even Xiandou can't be cured

All kinds of troubles are like strangling the neck

It's like being released in one fell swoop

What's the status of your work

You say life is a box of poker without joker

Sometimes they say yes and No

Afraid to be said naive, so rarely said tired

Diary is the ice cave of emotion

It records the forgotten mind

Diary is the ice cave of emotion

It records the forgotten mind