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my fantasy

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    It was silent for five months.  I didn't write anything.  Terrible loss of creativity.  I once wondered if one day I could make a living from writing.  the reality is cruel.  I can't do that yet.

    Life seems to have worn away my edges.  It made me feel more and more lonely.

    What I thought to be considerate of others has become a burden.

    When I put all my energy into my work, I didn't have fun at work.  Is my world too small?  I have read so many books, but I can't read the meaning of life.

    Severe inferiority complex made me feel insecure.  What I often say is strong, but those who have been defeated long ago will not grow.  That territory is full of desolation.

    I don't want to see my life evolve so decadently.  I am 30 years old.  Still like a child traveling alone in a sea of ??confused people.

    I am the carrier of contradictions.  There are the aloofness of intellectuals and the pessimism and cowardice of little people.

    Like a resentful woman, I constantly express my anger and sorrow to the people around me.  Beg for comfort and understanding from others.  But the opposite is true.  I don't get any mercy from others.  It will also become the capital for others to laugh.

    My heart is complicated, like seeing a drop of blood under the setting sun.  Bright red, dazzling.  It was a sad pain.

    How others judge my behavior.  Kindness or goodness.  Don't want to be a buffoon on stage.  No one will beautify me.  I stood there, wearing a black coat.

    I do not have enough money.  Live frugally.  Think of the loan in the bank, the cost of educating children.  Added a dull gray to my life.

    After leaving my parents, he was the best person to me.  Even if we have no love, no common language.  Still living together for many years.

    He said I was lazy.  Because I seldom do housework.  As he said this, he cleaned up.

    He always buys my favorite snacks.

    He never said I was grumpy and ugly.  I often lose my temper to him because of the pressure of life and work.  He just listened quietly.

    He is many years older than me.  Perhaps this is why he tolerated me infinitely.  He loves me as much as he loves himself.

    He doesn't like reading books.  The house is full of my books.  He cleaned up the messy study for me and neatly folded my clothes to dry.  Clean up the bowls and chopsticks that I haven't washed after eating, and wash the dirty clothes I changed.

    During the many years with him.  I've had countless cheating thoughts.  I think I'll meet someone better than him.  But this is not the case. Maybe there will be someone who makes me emotional, but I may not risk everything to follow.

    I am a sick person.  This disease will be with me for the rest of my life.  Became a pain I couldn't get rid of.  I care about other people's eyes.  Gossip.

    I live in a shell I made up.  So pitifully staring at the inches of sunlight projected from the cracks.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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