SMKCX-015

I can't meet my usual old man anymore. The man spends the rest of his life in an octagonal multi-storey building. I don't know who would buy a souvenir from such a shitty old man. However, neither me nor the man have any involvement in this data sent at the end of the month. I don't understand the translation anymore. What the hell is it? If you're tempted, it's really scary, so please stop. I really appreciate you. [2008, wants to be a chef (1●)] [Weak baseball team manager (18)] [Big-breasted woman with a student council officer] [Slender body attendance at a private cram school] "It's my favorite season of the year. The wind and everything feels good." Hello, old man. I think I lost a little before I saw it. He plays music called shoegazer and rolls the car. The floating feeling is exactly the same as when you're doing that. It's like, 'Huh...' It's been a long time since we've had conversations using abstract words. It seems like he's finally getting back in shape. I never dreamed that this would happen soon. I'm sure. The eyes of an innocent old man chased with his sticky eyes and his objects. School uniforms that sway with a light body. The instant you touch it, the body temperature exceeds your imagination and the sweet scent of milk. A checkered skirt with a tight waist. These days, I'm hanging over lines that should not be crossed without any crossing.