我知道,我是个寡淡而不讨喜的姑娘——细而淡的眉眼,眼中流转的自卑清高,爱生气,还喜欢脸红。我喜欢在某个日落或者有合欢盛开的清晨,在那种有淡暖色的纸页上写上乱七八糟的文字,毫无头绪,喜欢无病呻吟。我鄙视自己的矫情,努力活下去,找个理由去喜欢别人,长吁短叹说好累。喜欢那些温暖的文字,像开启了某个人的嘴。你瞧,我就是这样一个傻姑娘。小时候,我算个安安静静的好孩子;黑白分明的眼,剪得很千净的齐耳短发,会穿草绿色的碎花裙子;不吵不闹,挽起洋娃娃金黄色的头发,乖乖的;抚摸阳光吻过粉色樱桃的温度,不会有太多的泪水;在窗前高高的向日葵下,画出臆想的有精致脸庞的女子;可以温柔地笑,连梦都是午后四点半阳光照 I know, I am a pale but not lovable girl - thin and light facial features, the eyes of the low self-esteem circulation, angry love, but also like blushing. I like to write a mess of words on the pale warm paper at a sunset or a blooming early morning of Acacia. I have no clue as to whether I am sick or groan. I despise their hypocritical efforts to survive, find a reason to like others, long sigh to say tired. Like those warm words, like opening someone’s mouth. You see, I am such a silly girl. When I was a child, I was a quiet, good boy; black and white eyes, cut a very clean Qi Er short hair, wearing a floral green grass skirt; noisy noisy, rolled up doll golden hair, obediently ; Touching the sun kissed the temperature of the pink cherry, there will not be too much tears; in the window of tall sunflowers, draw imaginary delicate face of the woman; gentle smile, and even the dream is four o’clock in the afternoon Semi-sunlight