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Monday 08 August, 2016 | RSS Feed

Give me a Newport 100s cigarette

I used to feel the happiness of holding with no reality whatever in the brain with no reality whatever fantasy. I also used the class to sit in the classroom window, secretly wearing a headset while enjoying the long stretch of mountains, while let my fantasy roaming in mind. At this time no matter how vivid of teacher said in class, is different from the sound will only make me feel with a tractor engine. I know the most high-end sports leisure love what is his plain text, reduced to fragments of guitar and absolute desire to have absolutely no ability to buy clothes. So, I prefer to hold the beloved guitar imagination can only imagine gorgeous notes from my fingers pouring rather than holding books, pondering over the left hand rule or right-hand rule. Want to be rich but worry, happiness or nothing of a pig? I saw my classmates holding books a serious look, I think I fall a lot of time? Don't know my heart is full of envy, but I'm sure that only when my heart is full of confusion, some.

In three days, every corner I feel more and more depressed and helpless with the campus. Sometimes, I can even feel the scent of the infected dust falling on the shoulders and bring great pressure to me, distress hard I walked step by step into another cage. I imagine when I locked myself in a more magnificent and expensive cage, watching their parents I exposed that smile pleasure, said in earnest: "child, why are you our family honor!" At that time, I choose Newport 100s to cure my soul.

This year, I learned to smoke Newport 100s and drink. I smoke a big mouth, pumping smoke to drown out your own. I took a slug of his drink, drink to her unconscious, then waved his fist expel those who brought me great pressure to hate the dust. And not think smoking and natural and unrestrained, also not feel taste is mellow, just want to with them made me temporarily forget the look in the eyes of the teacher's careful guidance, and parental expectations. But, these are temporary, then put down the Newport 100s cigarettes and wine, reality or reality, life is life, I would still be me. Like a sweet dream, wake up found hand holding and not the Anderson fairy tale, but a thick layer of dust.

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