活龙活现的语言故事

有时候突然想，这半年到底怎么过来的？有的时候早上5-6点之间，不知道哪个混蛋养的鸽子在我的窗口咕咕咕咕叫个没完，翅膀噗噗棱棱，鸽子喘气的声音也不小。吵死人了。有时候被它们吵醒了，我就呲啦拉开窗帘，让它们看看，老子我还在睡觉。"滚！！!@#$&*()&(*"。鸽子拍着翅膀扑棱冷，飞到对面的房子上面。我再趴下，继续做梦，（假如还能睡着的话）。 为什么不是总被它们吵醒？大概是睡得太死吧。 我跟同事说我的痛苦。有人说，北京现在不准养鸽子，可以报警，抓到杀死。杀....死。杀死..... 这，还不至于因为耽误我睡觉就要了人家的命吧？（被吵醒的时候，我确实发誓如果有枪，非把它们一个个都嘣了。想起来，有个人因为邻居家的大公鸡吵闹，把它给干掉了。） 我再仔细想想，报警不？同志们也给我点建议。

I always seem to associate a song or several songs with a period of my life in which I listen to them a lot. Time is racing ahead. I can't stop it. Neither can anyone else. Nostalgia. When I listen to songs such as Le Jour s'est Lev, one of the three incomprehensible French songs I got in exchange for three songs by Luo Dayou with a Frenchman, it never fails to reminds me of those days at Brightsun in Harbin, when I just began to learn of the Internet as a new guy at the company with the brand-new status of being an employee after years of being an English student. Wei-ai-chi-kuang by Liu Ruoying brings me back to those days when I was beginning to learn love, yet another brand-new topic to a freewheeling, awkward, and stupid boy. And shengxia-de-guoshi by Mo Wenwei comes to me as a reflection of those lovely summer days in Harbin. Now, new songs, which now I'm not aware of, will serve, when I listen to them again in the future, as nostalgic ones associated with my beginnin