Waste 2023

Copywriting On the Lunar New Year's Eve, Le Liushui quietly looked at Wei Sheng Gaoshan who was unconscious on the hospital bed due to excessive blood loss due to a pulse cut, and recalled the scene when they first met. As autumn and winter passed, she wrote something very different in her heart: At my friend's funeral, there were two dead people. One is my poor friend who died of late-stage liver cancer due to inability to be treated. Respect the deceased and do not disturb them too much. The other one was a woman who looked about the same age as me, dressed in plain clothes, sitting on an old-fashioned wooden chair. The expression on her face was really ugly, like a dead person. Because it was a rural area, the old-fashioned wooden chair she was sitting on could be found everywhere in funeral venues, and many people sat on this kind of chair. Among the people sitting there were many people who had come from the city and were very well-dressed and elegantly dressed. I made a lot of money just by looking at it. However, I didn't think there was anything strange about them, a group of rich and distinguished people, sitting on this old-fashioned and rustic wooden bench. Judging from their performance, it seems that they themselves don't feel anything is inappropriate or are not used to it. It's because of this that the woman in plain clothes caught my attention. I felt that she didn't match the long wooden chair under her butt. It gave me a very strange feeling when she sat on it. So I kept looking at her, not secretly, but openly. From the very beginning, the face, expression, demeanor, hairstyle, to the whole body, to the clothing, and finally to the body movements. We were a little far apart, and I was a little short-sighted. I couldn't actually see her clearly. Her face looked very white, either because of the black mesh hanging halfway between us or because of her natural beauty. Her snow-white diamond-shaped face can be compared to a piece of top-quality white jade that comes from the uncanny craftsmanship of nature. The premise is that she doesn't have any facial features on her face - because of her really ugly expression, I know in my heart that her facial features are definitely not good. Her expression, in my opinion, should be a combination of the misery of the newborn crying and the desolation of the Linxian old man sitting in meditation, and then sharpening it and lowering the clarity. Her expression is a contradiction between the increasingly calm numbness on the lake and the gradual weakening and remnant deep in the lake. She is a dying fire under the heavy rain. A head of waist-length wavy hair. Because it was an early autumn afternoon, the sun was actually as hot as fire, but because of the two layers of black mesh covering it, the funeral venue felt more like a cloudy day with scattered sunshine and rain. It happened to be hot but not stuffy today, and the wind was blowing. I'm not sure if her big waves are jet black or light chestnut. Some strands of her thick and thick hair were blowing in the wind. She sat in the light dark blue, calm and flamboyant. Her heart was vast and empty, but at the same time, it was too cramped to take in the second breath. Her heart is locked in a deceptively beautiful body. Simply from the perspective of appreciating beauty. The front is convex and the back is curved, slim and slender. I feel like she even fits the golden ratio. Venus. She is Venus buried in the mud. Mud. She probably doesn't have much money. She was wearing an extremely shabby plain white floral dress from many years ago. Her shoes were also plain white, with pointed toes and flat soles, and were splashed with a thin layer of yellow by the passing years. She sat on a long wooden chair, and she was the only one sitting on the long wooden chair - usually two or three people could sit on a long wooden chair like this. But there were many long wooden chairs in all directions around her, filled with people of different identities and appearances. The crowd was bustling. She is sitting. Sometimes she puts her right leg on her left leg, sometimes she puts her legs together and puts her hands lightly on her thighs; sometimes her hands hang in the air. Her head shook from side to side and she sat upright at the same time. She kept staring at one place but her eyes were wandering. Erratic. She glanced towards me, and I kept looking at her - our eyes met for an instant - because soon her eyes turned away and fell silently into another unknown group of people. But I walked towards her and got up for no reason... Romantic bottom x depressed patient Chew carefully and swallow slowly, the bitter taste turns sweet. Purpose: Life is about joy in suffering