The road to death of the thesis case

The street lights first came on, the soft light shone, the copywriter's face was soft, he closed his eyes warmly, and danced lightly while listening to the imaginary piano sound.

One, two, three, four, one, two... The corner of the copywriter's clothes was spinning in the air.

The dark road seems to lead to heaven, but who can become a Buddha instantly?Du Jinyi?Read the Bible?Such a great sage has also gone through so much, with one step and one tear.

The sound of the piano didn't stop, the copywriter stood up, with the sea of ​​stars in his eyes, the universe, and the most gentle love song.

This kind of life is like an endless loop.When someone leaves love, someone will replace it, it is fate.

"I'm sorry, Lu Mo, I'm not cheap." The copywriter smiled, with the corners of his mouth turned up, as if he was amused by himself.

The store is closed, the crystal lamp is dim, but the crystal ball inside is still shining.

The copywriter looked left and right, he couldn't remember how long he hadn't been so happy, doing whatever he wanted, wasn't it something he had been pursuing for a long time?What restrained him?

Some things cannot be expressed in words, nor can words express them. It is like a rainstorm, sweeping everything.

The copywriter is walking and jumping, the deserted commercial street, the warm lights, a few mosquitoes are 'moths to the flame'

I felt so much shock that I forgot the warmth around me.

The young man's face is full of sunlight, waking up from a dream, and the clouds breaking through the sky.

Everything ended on the bench.

"Young man, wake up." An old man patted the copywriter's cheek, and he looked at him with sleepy eyes.

"Don't you have a home?" The old man looked at him kindly?I don't know, maybe.

"I... no." The copywriter laughed.

The old man shook his head, what a pity for a child, "Then you come to work with me, okay?"

The copywriter smiled and looked at him brightly, "Thank you, no need"

The old man watched the copywriter leave and shook his head.

The copywriter took out the little money left, and made a public phone call. Hearing the voice of the editor-in-chief who was blowing his hair, his nose was a little sour.

"Where did you go! No text updates! No phone calls! Huh? I want to die, hey, you...why are you crying..."

The copywriter was stunned, looking at the liquid on his hand, "How do you know I'm crying?"

"Be good, baby... don't cry...you have to update the article when you cry, don't think that you don't need to update the article because you cry." The editor-in-chief said cutely.

"Okay..." The copywriter smiled through tears, his eyes were red and watery.

The copywriter was holding the dead phone heavily, the key cut his hand, but the copywriter didn't feel any pain.

"Come on copywriter! You don't love it anymore! You give up!" The copywriter closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The key was turned, with a click, the door opened, and the copywriter walked into the familiar door, familiar atmosphere, familiar scene, and unfamiliar state of mind.

"What are you doing here?" Lu Mo walked out, his dark eyes shining brightly.

"I'm here to get my own things back," said the copywriter while slipping his shoes. He froze for a moment, showing a seductive smile, with the corners of his eyes upturned, very attractive, "Should I ask you? This is my house and you haven't left for a while Divide the money? All these years, you ate from me, drank from me, and beat me, shouldn’t you pay it back?”

Lu Mo looked at him with a sneer, "You think I'll be rare? I'll give you 20, oh, I bought this house, 100 million, enough for your entertainment."

The copywriter stepped forward, gently stroked Lu Mo's chest with his hands, made circles lightly, and breathed out softly. After being together for so long, the copywriter already knew him well, even though he knew nothing about himself "Break Up Cannon , 150 million, how about it? Huh?"

The ending sound is warped, very cute and attractive.

Lu Mo's breath really became heavy "Yes"

The copywriter looked at the man who was working hard, and smiled, fascinated.

Afterwards, Lu Mo looked at the copywriting, straightened his tie, suit and leather shoes, with an alienated temperament, a strong aura, and indifferently threw down a card, "People are not enough, 160 million, I don't want to see you again." you."

The copywriter smiled seductively, and his red lips hooked "Guest officer~ Welcome to come again next time~"

Lu Mo paused, "I don't want the house, you can keep it for yourself, this is me, the last tenderness."

The copywriter smiled sarcastically, if this is tenderness, the world is so cruel "I'm sorry, I don't need it"

Lu Mo left.

The copywriter dragged his mutilated body, packed up everything he had, clothes, shoes, photos... knowing that there was no trace of him in this house.

The author has something to say:

Why do you write when you are so bad?Why should I help others when I can't even take care of myself?

What else can I do?I am not helping, but sympathizing with each other...

I don't like to be noisy, I like to be quiet, I don't want to be touched by others, but I'm not alone...

The copywriter is a writer. He is unsuccessful and a little willful. He doesn't like success, but he likes the feeling of victory.He likes to be alone, but he doesn't want to be alone.What a contradictory person...

In fact, the sky has no color, it just has different layers, it is pitch black, yet mysterious.The moonlight is not bright, it is just the reflection of the sun, it is always on one side, because we cannot see its back.

Being not good at tenderness does not mean that he is indifferent, and being not good at speaking does not mean that he is not rich in heart.open your eyes pleaseSee if there is such a person around you who is isolated and silent, please, be nice to him, please?Everyone is not destined to be alone...

Thank you all for being here.