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Look at me

I’m tired. I’m depressed with the chaos of this life. Born in a poor countryside in central Vietnam full of sun and wind. In the days of June, the Lao wind blew the whole garden dry, the sound of dry leaves rustling in the wind came poor. Those who think that are as poor as the place where they were born The wind that blew her face made the skin even more sunshine. Each of the yellow roadside dry grasses floated on some green leaves of wildflowers. On rainy and stormy days, pouring rain, as if to use that weight, collapsed into those small, fragile houses. In the fast flowing water, only the wild flowers stained with yellow color died.

Looking up at the sky, but complaining, but thinking about this life. I wish to step out of that poor and miserable land, to find a new life. And that life must have been that there would be no rainy days when the sisters were staring at the small drops of water dripping down the dirt floor. The smell of mud is so intense that it haunts me even in a belated dream.

And so, I now have that life. On inserts in this bustling city just to find a peaceful day? Sometimes I wonder if real peaceful days.

Every morning soon rushed to the road, immersed in the strangers, nor could there be a smile. Looking at the tired face in the mirror, it is impossible to realize that I am in the midst of life. The worries like the reels that swept the human beings did not relax at all.

Pm. Signaled by the sound of honking cars began to rush. People poured down the road, rushing as if there was nothing to hold. Just wish to go home a little earlier. Get a little more relaxed. See you, meet your lover a little faster. It turns out that everyone has someone to wait for, to love. There are such small happiness, day by day there is a job to do, there is a person to love, there is a peaceful home to return to. As for me, I was still alone in a small room with that lonely name. It can never become a home, because there is no warmth of the person I love. Tiredly, he walked slowly and slowly to find himself a little more peaceful.The night came, when the darkness enveloped the city, it was when I lived with myself the most. Nostalgia rushed back, as clearly as if I could reach out and touch it. The memory of a poor but peaceful countryside. Remember the hard and warm days of love. Remember the house full of mother’s warmth, the one who loves more than ever. Tears quickly rushed to make nostalgia more and more melancholy. But there was only a dark night out there. Far away somewhere golden lights illuminate a dim corner of the city.

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Welcome people have come to me, leave a footprint on each of your steps and I will find you

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