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Prose
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me and years
language
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Even after walking many roads and reading many books, I gradually become an adult
But in the face of a lonely depressed person
I am still powerless
Or maybe in some respects, language is pale, not black and white people's hearts
On some special people
Language does not solve their problems
On the contrary, it has obstacles, the more you talk, the more depressed you are
?I don¡¯t know Laozi, Zhuangzi, Confucius, Mencius, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, these sages were faced with a situation of their own powerlessness
What kind of scene is it again
At least for me as a mortal, pain haunts me every moment
It's just that sometimes I hide it
The coffin can be buried deep in the valley, but my heart is not a coffin after all
I want to be for myself and for others
Seek love
?This love is about fate, about life, and more about the meaning of being human
But I was wrong, as long as in the shackles of the world
I will have to sink, and I will fall infinitely
I still want to court others
really ridiculous
The world is faint, we are lonely
? Even if there are fairies in Yuanyue, what if they fall to the mortal world (remember the website address of this website:
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