No one can hinder me, and nothing can hinder me.

Slashing, moving forward, making the character die, it seems like that's all I have.

The rest, just to ensure that the killing is carried out, that's all.

Perhaps, he lived to hack himself to death.

Die, die, there is nothing to remember, and there is nothing to worry about.

I'm not real, the characters are not real, the thinking is not real, the world is not real.

These words have been said countless times, but they still want to continue, they still want to repeat, it seems that only in this way can they kill the false.

It's just a matter of letting go, but the difficulty is unimaginable.

Perhaps, in this twisted world, nature is just a luxury.

The charm of human beings itself lies in distortion, which is why there is such a thing as the spirit of all things?

The character must die, the nausea explodes quickly, the destruction devours quickly, and the black reality comes quickly.

How does fear not arise?

Those worries, those plans for the future, how can they be hidden?

Depression that is so low that even demons have to retreat.

Anger is brewing, and the devouring sensation is quietly moving forward slowly and steadily.

Whatever the environment, I seem to be able to exude devouring emotions there.

The so-called noise, compared to the noise in the head, is simply a kind of cuteness.

The distortion in my head is not qualified to exist, it is not qualified to be arrogant, and even its appearance must be allowed by me.

The presentation of the elements of the picture, and then what?

It shows slashing, it shows destruction, and it shows that the characters know the truth.

It's all moving forward, the characters are shattering, and nothing can stand in the way of it all.

The character must die, and I must stand in the place of legend.

It's not about hard work, it's not about hard work, it's about seeing the abyss ahead with uncomfortable devouring.

I'm about to jump into the abyss, and the character is about to shatter.

The non-existent obstacle is about to be crossed by me.

Time is not an issue, and even if it takes a lifetime, there is no such thing as "lifetime time".

What I'm worried about is that I won't be able to kill it within today, or within this month.

The explosion is like a child stepping on an ant, and the role is not worth mentioning at all.

As for character related, what is that?

A piece of shit can pretend to be real?

It's like low-quality plastic that stinks anyway.

I'm not me, so what else is there to say?

It's a great immersive experience, but what?

I don't even remember how I judged the whole world to be fake, and it seemed like I had to think about it to remember how I slashed.

There is no need to remember that the weapons used to kill, the truths used to kill the truth, are still only false.

It seems that I can remember these killing processes, and then when others ask, I can at least answer quickly.

See, is this for the fullness of the characters?

Do I need to convince others to prove that my actions are not wrong?

There's no one else, there's no me, it's just a presentation of the elements of the picture.

The rot is bubbling, devouring the beautiful flowers.

It's black and real, there's nothing, it's still there, there's no characters, there's no evolution or anything like that.

How can this be true?

Which book describes the truth as terrifying?

Perhaps, it's just my own hallucination, right, it's entirely possible.

Any guesswork is just guesswork until the slash is complete.

Even, there is no feeling at all in reality, and there is no self in reality and then some kind of feeling about reality.

I'm going crazy, the character's body can't withstand the fluctuations of devouring, the shattering is underway, the collapse is expanding.

All the time, the characters are plumping themselves, and they are still working hard even at the moment.

Although it doesn't do much, the character seems to have always thought that he can still salvage it.

How could I just be a representation of the elements of the picture?

Emotions are constantly tugging, but to no avail, or rather, just procrastinating.

"Once you've taken the first step, there's no going back. ”

I finally confirmed that I had really taken the first step.

Of course, this is still just a fake, and maybe it won't be long before I suddenly turn back.

Right, what the picture elements want to present, how easy and casual it is.

Nothing can hinder the presentation of the elements of the picture, and those so-called logical and scientific theories are just the presentation of the elements of the picture.

Even, there is no such thing as "scientific theories" at all, all scientific theories are speculation.

And to pass off scientific theories as true is itself pseudoscience.

The so-called experimental verification cannot prove anything at all, and no one knows when it will not be proven.

Science is just a spirit, a way to get to the bottom of things.

And once this kind of thing is used on top of scientific theories, it will quickly destroy scientific theories directly.

Killing, in fact, is the scientific spirit, the kind of matter-of-fact, the kind of thinking that is not pulled by emotions, and the kind of thinking that is cold to the limit and honest to cruelty.

Does science have anything to do with scientific theories?

Science can't prove anything, on the contrary, science can see that things that have already been proven are.

If we talk about the spirit of science, then no one has the spirit of science, everyone is just bluffing.

Ask for a peace of mind.

But in the depths, the faint voice always knows that it's all.

The waves of fear always linger in the bottom of my heart.

I don't know when I'll be able to finish the kill, but I've gotten to this point, and it's best to explode.

There are no books to learn, no knowledge to have.

It must be noted that I will still be impressed, some small things and small things, as if lamenting the peeling off of the character.

And about artificial distortions, such as what mother's hard work, what family love, etc., it is difficult to move me again.

I don't know what's going on, and I don't even know why I'm thinking about it.

The character is going to die, he has to die, and I can already smell the sweetness of the Grim Reaper's cutie.

The pitch-black scythe was about to break through the shell of emotions, and then there was nothing inside.

None of them I waited to be redeemed, none of them I was trapped and deceived, all of them were just presentations of pictorial elements.

The Grim Reaper cutie has always been there, silently watching me, waiting for me to come home.

In other words, I have always been at home, and the role of Yuan Changwen is not me at all.

Not to save me, but to destroy me.

Destroy the character, then enter for real.

Of course, it's not the real entry, but the picture elements that present the characters in the state of "knowing everything about the truth".

Die, the character is not qualified to exist.

Let me stand in the real position and see how ridiculous the world really is.

Anything can happen, I can accept it, look at myself unreal, look at the world unreal. (https:)

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