The orange road lights outside the window slipped into the dormitory through the tightly closed curtains, making the night’s darkness no longer pure. Black became weak. No matter what, right! I began to mingle in this vague darkness to sort out my luck and happiness, over and over again. More sober. Same you, same me, different us. At that moment, I believed in fate as never before. When the ordinary encounters are extraordinary, what if the whole world is kept out of the cloud nine? Different us, different you, different me. People change when they meet another person who deserves it. Will be willing to change those bad habits at sixes and sevens and will be willing to graft another person’s interest into his own. Ladies will also start to be crazy about the World Cup. After enjoying a month of football gluttony, there is only the world and no cup. Then again, the world itself is a big cup, which contains countless small cups, thus inevitably giving birth to sorrow.. Mosquitoes are fighting against human beings, human beings are fighting against the heat, the heat is fighting against the season, the season is fighting against the sky, the sky is fighting against the distance between the sea, it has won because it is blue. Fate is the most indefinable thing, and we can only feel it superficially. If we can read out our own arrangements, who will say that we are not deep enough? Listen! This wonderful and wonderful guy is growing at jointing stage. What do I do? I’m not sleepy yet. Ha ha, with anticipation, I’m waiting for tomorrow’s tomorrow’s arrival with loss and gain.. What kind of silly situation would it be then? As I said, passion and insipidity are like solutes and solvents. In the end, what we need to deal with is the proportional relationship between them.. Regardless of them! Life will eventually be made into a cup of wheat-flavored milk tea. In the afternoon sunshine, sweet but not greasy and light but not plain wheat fragrance bursts. What do I do? He spent more than a hundred words on the gold coins in grandpa’s treasure bag, still awake. With what to dilute my full of bright stars?