Your good night is my sleepless orgy.

the mirror will tell you a lot of secrets you don't know.

for example, for a time when I stayed up late for nearly a week, I was scared by myself before passing by the mirror.

the whole person is in a state of blood loss. I look at my skincare and everywhere tells me the problems caused by staying up late.

most of the time I stand in front of the mirror and look at my face, but I don't know much about myself. There is another acne in the inconspicuous position, and there is a heavy layer of dark circles under the eyes.

say good night to the world early every day, but lie in bed every day until the wee hours of the morning.

I've tried a lot of ways to sleep deeply, white noise, shake back, count sheep, lie flat and put your hands on your belly button. I am a religious man when it comes to sleep, but it is of no use.

I am very tired every day, so I want to seize my own time after work every day. I may tease the cat to read a book, squeeze acne and sweep the floor, and find that it is already early in the morning.

Why does your own time always pass so quickly?

it is said in the lyrics that all good times should be cherished because it is limited.

however, I always lose sleep every night and then live a life of two o'clock with an ugly face the next day.

the small theater in my brain is very excited at night.

my mind is full of things, the whole day and some old events always pour into my mind at night.

there are some imperfect rips. If I leave out some people, I will always regret at night why I didn't say it properly at that time.

people I like, people who like me,

all say good night to the ambiguity that just ended.

the night gives people endless space for imagination and gives people the possibility of self-healing.

I have two friends, and when I asked them why they had insomnia, they gave this statement.

the first girl was far away from her boyfriend. She had insomnia because she and her boyfriend had a 15-hour time difference, so she had to stay up until the wee hours of the morning. As soon as her boyfriend got up in the morning, they could chat. The other girl is a screenwriter, and her night is the day of her brain.

"my two o'clock in the morning is his 11:00.

Yes, he gets up late. I know his habits.

I stayed up late as if he hadn't left. "

"The stories all take place in the dark, and the night covers everything up.

when the day comes, everything returns to normal, leaving only swollen eyes and a heart that wants to have a hangover again. "

the second girl takes an ID photo every year, without makeup, with a white background, exposing all her shortcomings, one a year.

she was 23 years old in 1992, which is beautiful age, although she is a little older than 18 years old.

she lined up one inch of her photo to show me that she started to stay up late at the age of 20, and if you didn't record the changes in your skin every year, you wouldn't see the changes in your skin at all. It's a protest. It scares you.

she is also a media worker, often staying up late, staying up with the crew, staying up all night, and getting up the next day. Before the age of 20, there were no pimples on her face, no fine lines in the corners of her eyes, no lines on her forehead, and shallow dark circles under her eyes, but now her skin carries too many worries, and she firmly believes that her skin is bound to her and has a soul. Her skin has insomnia with her.

when I was a Girl with collagen all over my face,

I could listen to a rock band at line house until three o'clock in the morning;

We could leave for Sanlitun Page one,

until 2 am on Christmas Eve when we said we wanted to see the night view;

have a hangover with a friend after she is lovelorn;

I have seen it.

Xiaolongbao and Steamed Jiaozi, which sell breakfast on the side of the road,

braving white steam in front of dark circles;

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and friends

sitting by the side of the road watching the city from sleeping to waking up at 4 a.m.;

singing till dawn in KTV;

staying up all night for someone I like,

just to cut one for her birthday.

he called and played a song to his favorite at the concert on May Day.

then he hung up the phone and cried his eyes all night because it was over.

the water on his skin turned into tears of insomnia.

I often look at myself in the mirror.

"have you changed?"

"you seem to have changed and grown old."

maybe my heart is old, and my girl's heart is struggling.

the loss of my insomnia skin is my noteworthy memory.

and every good night you say is my endless revelry.