If you're going to die, hurry up.

I've opened my chest, I've got my head ready for you to slew it.

What could be better than falsehood? What could be more absurd than a character?

The words that seem to be the Word, the arguments that sound well-organized, are only pale and feeble justifications.

I can't face the breaking of the casserole to the end, let alone face any honest person.

It's very difficult to just take things as they are, but it's very easy to go with mood swings.

Even, emotions will clamor for the pursuit of truth, and use lies to pursue truth to make themselves sleep deeper.

Use inspirational and bloody, and use my life to let myself be controlled by fear, controlled by the times, and controlled by the distortion in my mind.

Resisting fate is cultivating the truth? Changing one's life against the sky is cultivating the truth? The character should not be played by fate, and want to control his own destiny, this is just an emotional lie.

After all, it's just a character, whether it can fly away, or it can reverse time, or control the universe. After all, it's just a character, it's just a fake.

Perhaps, this kind of goal is a good goal, and I used to pursue it. And, at the moment, I also think that these pursuits are great, no matter what the pursuits are, they are the sublimation of a person's humanity.

But these things can't stand in my way. It's obviously false, so please stand in the queue of falsehood, instead of pretending to be real and arrogant.

I was ready to die, and the indescribable devouring seemed to be about to kill me. And the weird thing is that I am happy and scared at the same time, as if I can save myself from death by just gently hindering it.

It's about letting yourself die, blocking the impulse that prevents you from dying.

Or rather, stop holding yourself in the way of death.

How unconscionable was this, was it because of my brain or was I cursed to think it all made sense, and I began to enjoy the feeling of devouring.

Those high-minded talks are obviously full of positive emotions, but for some reason, I just feel sick.

It's not as good as a puppy at home.

Looking at everyone's failures and everyone's enthusiasm, I realized that I was really cursed.

If someone knew what was going on inside me, they might call the police and send me to an insane asylum. Fortunately, no one knows, or it doesn't matter if they do.

After all, I'm just going crazy at home.

What better time could there be than this moment?

What could be a worse time than this moment to mislead people like this?

What's so good about this moment? Because I can only be in this moment.

What's wrong with this moment? Because I can only be in this moment.

Since there is no good or bad, since there is only this moment, why is it always framed with words such as "the best", "the most beautiful", and "through all suffering"?

Slashing leads to the truth, this is the teacher's deception. It's not that slashing doesn't lead to the truth, it's that I don't know.

But because of the teacher's words, I took them as true and used them as the reason for my actions.

At the moment, this reason hindered me, and I couldn't believe that slashing didn't lead to the truth. And after careful consideration, or rather, after getting rid of the pull of emotions, it is obvious that this sentence is just wishful thinking.

What else can I believe?

I walked in the world like a walking corpse, low and gloomy, and even the most photographable demons had to take a detour when they saw me. However, he has no aversion to the walking dead.

The part that thought the walking dead was a waste of life had been killed by me.

Doing nothing but having no fear, you may become like this.

However, the slaughter still has to go on at this moment.

The fear is still there, the falsehood is still there, and those people and things are still arrogant in the mind. I don't understand how I used to endure it, my brain is not my own, and I still think it's good?

The puzzle is that no matter what, the brain is your own after all. No matter what the content is, no matter how the content appears, it may be distorted or forced, but it is also your own brain after all.

Standing on the highest place, of course, there is no need to kill. After all, the picture element is just the picture element, and that awareness has always been there, okay.

I also wanted to explain how slashing works, and I wanted to make sense of the whole thing, as if slashing could really lead to reality.

There are so many things that can distract me, and the question of who I am is more profound than anything else.

I don't know who I am, but I have been indomitable for my struggle and efforts, should I be praised or sad?

Thinking of the poet, it is said that Whitman used poetry as a vehicle for his own killing because of this ignorance. Or, just describe your condition in language you don't know.

I'm really ready to die, it's a death that even demons can't accept, and any character exists to avoid reality.

At least I am.

Thinking about death, it seems like I didn't understand it all along. And that luck is that I have experienced the fear of facing death several times.

There's nothing thrilling, just simply lying on the bed, and then thinking about your own death, thinking that you don't have this thinking, thinking that no one is talking about yourself, thinking that you can't continue to discuss others, the dark devouring is suffocating.

Mom is here, great presence. Not only because of the greatness that raised me, the greatness of slightly shielding from the wind and rain, but also the greatness that hindered me from killing.

Firmly in my mind, motionless, no matter how much you kill, it seems that it can't be completely eradicated. The strong arm once carried me to the clinic at night, and also blocked me from slashing one by one.

Anyone who tries to rationalize the killing is just self-defeating. Saying that killing will lead to the truth, saying that the brain is not one's own, and saying that it is false, are all nonsense.

There is only one reason, a reason that does not convince anyone at all.

It's just that I'm willing.

Reason has analyzed very clearly, the so-called maternal love is just a transaction, and the so-called filial piety is also just a transaction.

But the strong emotions don't admit it at all, but they can't say why they don't admit it, anyway, they just pull me and don't allow me to kill.

These things keep tugging at me, not making me think, just moving with the tide of emotions. That's not your choice, it's just the result of being forced.

While fear can disguise itself and make this a different form, it can't change the fact that these things are taking control of me. The voice in your head is never quiet, and if you dare to make noise, then be prepared to be killed by me.

My death is inevitable, not in the future, but right now.

Let me die while I live, let me die completely.

The role of Yuan Changwen will only have a residual body. And all the things inside are going to die.

That's how I prepare, ready to explode at any time, ready to dissipate. Although it is scary, although I will subconsciously grab the character, but it will not be long.

Come on, whatever it is. ()

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