一场风暴扫了我的头，追逐我的事件，所以我不会让我有机会继续看着电话的底部，从最高的电话中坚持要打电话，我心中痛心，好像我被要求组织生存一样，我被围困在一个狭窄的角落里，威胁着我死亡。
(A storm sweeping my head, events chasing me, so I do not leave me an opportunity to keep looking at, from the bottom of a call and from the top insists on a call, and I am torn by the heart, as if I am required to organize existence and I am besieged in a narrow corner that threatens me death.)