Death has always been with me, by my side all the time.

Anything that promotes the supremacy of life is just and wishful thinking. You only have one life, where is the logic of this sentence? Is there any shred of evidence to prove it?

So, isn't the so-called cherishing of life just a drag show of fear?

If it's just fear, why come up with so many new words?

It's all ridiculous and nonsense, my existence is more ridiculous than anything else. Not even a retarded lie or anything is as ridiculous as my own.

What am I doing? My life, my existence, my distortion in my mind, my self-righteous killing, what are I doing?

Death, becoming so close, closer to me than my breath.

Laziness, laziness to death can't stir my emotions. I don't want to think about it anymore, it's all unreal, what else do I think about? Those falsehoods that have been seized by emotions, I'm so lazy that I don't want to grasp anymore.

I'm dead, whatever the times want, whatever society wants, whatever the ocean wants, I'm free to fluctuate. I don't have any objections to how the elements of the picture are presented, I don't have the heart to object, and I'm so lazy that I don't want to care about these things at all.

Hand yourself over, hand it over without reservation, and I have no objection to it in any way. That slight fear and worry is still just, and I'm so lazy that I'm not even interested in thinking about the content of the fear, let alone saying anything to refute it.

The inner tension, the fears and worries, are themselves just things created by the twists of the mind. Tired, let go, so lazy that even if he was beaten, he didn't have the heart to block it.

The absurdity is that I am so lazy, but with lightness and pleasure, as if God would arrange it for me to experience it directly.

It's as ridiculous as if I'm so lazy that I don't want to cook, but I believe that the meal will be cooked by itself.

I don't know.

Yuan Changwen wanted to die, and the distortion in his mind died together, and even his thinking died. The whole character will collapse, there will be nothing to keep, maybe the body will still exist.

I wasn't in the slightest interest in the things that kept pumping energy to make sure the distortions in my brain survived. Even the people and things in my head are arrogant, and I have no interest in paying attention to them.

I'm so lazy that I'm not even interested in slashing and can't hold a knife.

It's good to die like this.

No friends, no family, just the cold water of the lake. But it seems that there is no sadness or pity, and the part that can be judged sad or pitiful is dead.

Lazy, idle, idle, this kind of thing that is spurned by people, but it is synonymous with honesty. I don't know what I'm going to do, and it doesn't seem like the character has much to do with me.

Explode, shatter, dissipate all those twisted characters. If it's not real, it should be in the position of being unreal, so that I can see that all this is unreal, not be pulled by emotions.

I really don't understand why "I think" is the opinion of others, and then it becomes someone else's opinion?

Devour me, there's nothing to continue and nothing to continue. No matter how hard I try, it's just the presentation of the picture elements, where am I?

There's not a me, and the thing that can claim to me, doesn't have any thinking at all. I didn't need any authority and no one to guide me, not even the teachers.

No matter what the teacher's words are or what the teacher's reasoning is, it is not true. Those truths sound good, but they are only used to kill the distortions in the mind, not to make them new distortions.

Use it and throw it away, that's what it is.

So, who else dares to say anything in front of me?

It's just that you know too much, that's why you become, and there will be a grassland that feeds distorted. It's all shit, and it's all going to be discarded.

My connection with people seems to have become very weak, and even my mother, wife and children are slowly fading and thinning in the slaughter. I can't find any reason to do what is so-called necessary, and I don't have the impulse to be filial or anything like that.

Friends seem to be dispensable, and even, if a friend says come to save me at this moment, it won't bring me laughter. Instead, it makes me feel infinitely distorted, and wants me to succumb to those distortions.

In fact, I used to have these feelings often, obviously I didn't want to go to the party, I didn't want to go home at all, but the distortion in my mind always made me hesitate. What kind of friends is to get together more, and there is no harm, I often don't go to be considered unsociable or something.

Now, these distortions are gone, or rather, they don't have as much power as I hate them. No matter what you say, if you lose your family and friends, you can't pull me.

Because, the judgment of being alone and lonely no longer exists. I don't see any harm in being alone, or any good in being gregarious. All judgments are almost incomprehensible, and disgust with the distortions in my mind keeps me away from the crowd and wants to stay away from the distortions in my own head.

It's all personal preferences, but my personal preferences are a little special. But it doesn't matter, after gradually disconnecting, I am left with myself. In fact, there is no one else at all, which one is not the presentation of the picture element?

I seem to have avoided loneliness since I was a child, and that kind of behavior of brushing up on my presence seems to be traced back to the age of breastfeeding. When I think of others ignoring me, I feel bitter in my heart.

Being disconnected from others is not really being in the wilderness, the kind of heaven and earth being the bed. Instead, he cut off his own grip on others, and killed the emotional product that he must exist.

Because I don't exist, the character itself is fake. Then, the act of thinking that a character is real and projecting various things based on that is and emotional.

For example, I like to be recognized by others, I like to prove that I am right, I like to fantasize about being the protagonist of any event, I am afraid that the character will be hurt, and I am afraid of what the character will lose......

This is the inverse, the inverse that is completely contrary to human nature. Who would be willing to pass this kind of "adversity leads to immortality"? Therefore, change the content of inverse and let the so-called "shun" put on a mask to become "inverse." The character likes it and is sought after, so it is promoted round after round.

It's as if, the mere idea of how I can turn my back on this propaganda, whether I'm successful or not, or even whether I start it or not, just makes me creepy.

Is this some kind of mistake?

This is the pull of emotions, the falsehood that can only exist by relying on strong emotions without logic.