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一刚睡到半夜,陈志军就再也睡不着了。窗外漆黑一团。马路上彻夜不灭的灯光照不到这儿,政府的亮化工程也亮化不到这儿。不仅仅是因为这儿是城市的边缘地带,更因为陈志军的小窝淹没在了很多不协调的高大建筑物中间,想不压抑都难。床头的闹钟像一个革命时期的哨兵,忠于职守且一丝不苟。滴滴答答,滴滴答答,节奏拿捏之准让人可怕。陈志军就闭着眼睛,想跟着这个节奏数羊,分散一下自己的思想。可是数的羊足够内蒙古大草原放牧了,还是睡不着,精
Just sleep in the middle of the night, Chen Zhijun can no longer sleep. Out of the window dark. The lights on the road are not dimmable here and there, and the lighting project of the government is not bright here either. Not only because here is the edge of the city, but also because Chen Zhijun’s nest was submerged in the middle of a lot of uncoordinated tall buildings, do not want to suppress it. The bedside alarm clock looks like a revolutionary sentry, dedicated and meticulous. Drips, ticks, beat the rhythm of making people terrible. Chen Zhijun eyes closed, want to follow the rhythm of several sheep, scattered about their own thoughts. However, the number of sheep in Inner Mongolia prairie enough to graze, or sleep, fine