2010年8月2日 的存档信息

REMEMBERS WHEN

  Its passing. My loss of it. My father’s water lilies. My old life. I have buried myself in the making of this work and now it’s over and my father has given up on his love for his flowers. He has given up on any hope he had for the future. And my future…… ————————————————   But I feel so lonely sometimes, as … (阅读全文)