Lying in the north on the train bumps out words, ramble in one's statement, wander only strange journey. For you, once you have. When you read these words, the distance between us is far away, or I have been back to the place. In view of the fact that not many of my flow, this point I'm not sure.
Write in your 22 year old, eight months between April and December each year is not long nor short, you are older than my old days. Eight months, a new life born full-term, eight months, the earth away just by 3/4 distance. Eight months, neither long nor short.
Always think that April is not hold, slip or.
I hope you get on the road, a person with good weather.
I hope you have a meal on time, early to bed and early to rise, health.
I hope you lazy still but not dejected.
We hope in 20 years old, each carry moisture dream together with the sun.
I hope we bid farewell to the life of B class, middle-aged people to not distress do not panic.
Hope your life, it has quietly blooming roses.
I hope you still is my handkerchief, OK stretched, best friends.
I hope you will live in beautiful.
Outside the window is the endless stream view, write down for you idle grass, numerous after discharge and idle grass, hope we still stubborn.