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silence

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    ?

    I don't want to continue to be addicted to anime, oh no, it's because I have been desperate since watching BL.

    "There is a golden house in the book, and Yan Ruyu in the book." Graduation is imminent, and I don't know what choice to make, what I can do with the knowledge I have, and how to have what kind of future.  In such a tight time, I actually want to start from this moment to gain knowledge, courage and answers in the book.  How ridiculous!

    x said: "z went to the library."  Later, I really found that she was sitting at the dim table reading a book seriously.  He was a person who would never have the leisure and elegance to read extracurricular books at such a time no matter what. This kind of character, which reached the level of resentment when one thinks of it, was actually because of such an incident that happened during this period.  Transformation, really perversion and corruption.  People can't help but feel sad.  However, I couldn't help being curious, so I asked, "What are you looking at?"  However, upon hearing such an answer, another kind of sadness arose ¡ª¡ª still the sadness of helplessly struggling to the point of despair in reality.  She straightened her back, staring at the book solemnly, and the atmosphere created by this scene around her, the life based on responsibility and responsibility will be subtly rejected by life when it is struggling and decadent.  It seems to be a little comforted by being able to escape in such behavior, because of the inner condemnation, which is also a kind of punishment for the self.  The surroundings of the incomparably serious figure that came into my eyes exuded a faint smell of decay, and it just froze like that.

    I have been reading classics from various European countries for a long time, most of them have an aristocratic tone, such a tone, and an unparalleled way of praise¡ª¡ªespecially the praise of women, which used to fascinate people.  Today, however, it feels tired and boring.  I paused a novel I was reading, and turned to "The Mirage of Flame"¡ª¡ªanother unavoidable bl!

    It seems to feel the author's hell-like malice towards Jing Hu¡ª¡ªit must be my own illusion, it must be deep love.  After watching the anime, a netizen left a message, saying that he felt more sorry for Naoe or something.  Then I couldn't help but leave a message with an itchy heart: "I still feel sorry for Jing Hu!" After a few days, I found that she (the soul of the rotten girl's inner instinct, it must be a rotten girl) responded to everyone who replied.  replied.  It also includes his own share, to the effect that he still feels sorry for Naoe even more.  Out of the mood of trying to communicate, I carefully replied to my own point of view, and the general idea was similar to that of others¡ªit doesn¡¯t matter who is more miserable, it¡¯s just that Jinghu is more fragile, and Naoe is stronger, so it¡¯s even more difficult.  I just feel sorry for Jinghu.  It took less than a day to receive a reply, and their respective positions remained unchanged, and there seemed to be some sullenness in their words.  I thought it was just because I didn¡¯t read the whole novel, but when I saw her message, the novel saw ¡°Encounter¡±, but I still couldn¡¯t understand the feelings revealed in every word and sentence of the message, and the truth revealed in it.  understanding of one's point of view.  I suddenly realized how wrong it is to try to make people agree with my point of view, and even trying to make others understand my point of view is a wrong move. People's different natures lead to completely different visions and understandings.  How to identify with the world that is comprehended by the heart, cannot be discerned and shaken by rational logic, and cannot be seen anyway?  When I discovered this fact, I went to station b and deleted all the related comments I made in "The Mirage of Flame".  After deleting the last comment, my heart became fragile in an instant, as if fleeing in embarrassment, and my heart was so weak that I would be stung by a few innocuous comments.  And doing that kind of behavior seems to expose such a weak heart to someone who doesn't know it nakedly, and the remorse makes the inner fragility even worse.  However, who would notice such a thing?  He clearly knew it wasn't, but he still cared that much.  Obviously there are more logical rhetoric as the reason for one thing, but when the thing really happens, there is no such a strong heart to support that reason, and a weak sigh will make that kind of heart collapse, fall, and sink in an instant.

    What is the reason why I feel more genuinely distressed about Jinghu than Naoe?  When flipping through novels quickly, such a picture always appears in my mind: Jinghu is cut into pieces by the author with a "scalpel" no matter in body or spirit, and he dissects to his heart's content, extracting endlessly from it.  Hatred, patience, etc. are deeply infiltrated with pain and the emotions of pain itself, and are displayed to the "readers" in the book's display stand.  , all he sees is just a back view, he is always annotating Jinghu, if the whole world is hurting Jinghu, then Naoe is using his back as a shield to resist that world's hurting Jinghu, and using words once  Once again expressing a deep love that will never fade away ?Love?

    I don't understand the true meaning of "loneliness" mentioned in the book and emphasized in every anime. I am obviously alone all the time, and every word I say contains only one person, but what I feel in that silence is  Serenity and serenity, and indulge in it.  Is the real sorrow not knowing "loneliness" and being overwhelmed by it is the real sorrow?

    After eating, I moved the stool, stepped on the edge of the stool on the right with one foot, leaned against the glass window on the balcony, and quietly drank half-warm boiled water with a water glass in my hand.  Ahead, there is no dissociation of consciousness.  Immersed in such a quiet atmosphere, the heart is so peaceful, as if not sitting in reality, but sitting in static time.  The leaves are densely whirling and swaying in the breeze.  The temperature of the sun is just right, and a gust of wind occasionally brushes a strand of hair by the ear, as if it has touched the most delicate nerves connected to the heart, and the heart quickly and clearly captures the subtle itching brought by the erratic passing  touch.  The still heart was slightly touched in an instant, and joy flickered like a thin gleam.  No matter whether it is addiction, depravity, or self-exile, the heart that does not harbor the feeling of enjoyment for such moments all the time is real. This point is not false, and it is enough to know it.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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