The alarm clock broke the gorgeous nightmare. On the title page of dawn, it was full of messy steps and traffic. I am lazy on weekends and can only be included in the sole. Brush your teeth and start the day’s chatter. Wash your face and wash away the troubles and displeasure of yesterday. Go out, turn the key and lock yesterday into my memory. A road begins to extend under my feet. I fly against the ground. Work is like a folding fan, but it can’t fan a little passionate wind. Step by step, follow the track of the past, I race with the machine. Someone’s eyes made me run faster, just like the electric current passing through the motor, and the parts of my whole body were lubricating and rotating with each other. At noon, I added oil to the canteen, made a photo with someone, and made noise with most people. The words are too salty, use silence to quench thirst. Then they climbed into their own mobile phones, like spiders climbing into their own nets. At this time, the world is like a piece of animal skin falling off, hanging on one side. Lunch break was a door opened for myself, and I went in separately. I stood outside the door, wiping off the fatigue, like wiping off the rice grains at the corners of my mouth. My faces hung around me, sweating and oily, and my words wrapped me up like silkworm chrysalis. I was sure to incubate a bright moon and shine on each other’s boundless. Several of me gathered together, dancing and ringing every tense heartstring. People dispersed, and the dust finally settled. The thought of sorting out the clue can be woven into a sweater, wrapped in a thumbs-up heartbeat. Twist yourself into a ball, like waste paper, thrown into tomorrow with one hand.

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