High school composition with the theme of "individuality and difference"

I am gregarious, but I am lonely.

I am humorous, but I am depressed.

I've been trying to treat pain as a dimple.

Wearing jeans and a tennis hat.

Those who don't know me define me as a deep but impure person, a person who thinks like a mechanical bite, and what rules me is calm, cold and a little dull. All the dull brains on this planet are perfectly integrated, oh, and perfect. I am very satisfied. Half the people who know me say that I am unpredictable, just like the wind in the south of the Yangtze River in May, which is warm but a little wriggling. I can feel it, but I can't catch it. I just want to entrust a multinational company to make a top-class bag and send me in like a gust of wind, but I often miss it above, but I can't cover it below. Say I'm frank, but at the same time, I'm as vague, confused and have no common sense as Greater China. I often try to help me shuffle the cards, but such people often don't wash their hands. People who know me appreciate my sincerity, sincerity, simplicity, love and caring, although sometimes my mother-in-law is not much better than the old woman who has filled her teeth. When she is bored and nervous, she talks like an old ox pulling a broken car in an old almanac. Although it is broken, it is full of charm. However, this period of time is generally within the tolerance of ordinary people.

He thinks I'm a friend, loyal and capable. Always accompany me to drink in the dark and windy night. If I were at the seaside, it would be a scene of high waves. But I often take sprite and white wine for chemical reaction. I really can't drink when all he sees is the wine glass. It was the mountains and rivers that raised me, not the wine that did this job. This is for boys. For girls, I am cute enough, not as cute as an angel, and romantic enough, but I can't write a love script like Shakespeare. Petty bourgeoisie is full of emotional appeal, and I often write some small poems and essays, but I am careless and ambiguous, which makes her understand me and hate me. Love and hate are intertwined in my "sanduo", versatile and affectionate. Someone who knows me completely, sorry, not yet. Will this passage be wonderful? Who cares? Be a "single aristocrat" first, because this is fate, because she will be my angel all my life.

Hope to adopt