Everything that is too familiar, everyone who has left will remember all the details: hugs and tears at the airport, dragging to the last-minute entry; dragging countless luggage in a completely strange city; temporarily at a friend or friend’s friend’s house Live; I haven't found a good house after school has started, so I find time to see the house and find a co-renting house; every time I visit from a distance, I
can imagine that when I leave again, I will go to the country again.
Xavier was crying among the tourists in Montmartre, the stranger among the strangers, on the streets of Shanghai, why not himself.
His last run was idealized, and I would like to remember every carnival and feelings, whether it was his Barcelona’s Mediterranean or the red leaves on the sand on my left bank.
It seemed like a whisper that made me understand it, and like yesterday's video, life was still going on at dawn.
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