My tongue and the reality that doesn't have to be touchable and shocking

- Introduction

My heart is taller than mine, at least 1.8 meters, and it often reaches heights that I can't reach – making the building 1.8 meters tall, where it is lonely watching over its fellow workers.

My heart is always clothed with clothes, which are constantly wet with sweat and cold sweat, so they have to be dried.

This novella is what I protruded many times after I sweated and wore heavy clothes, showing the outline of my heart.

This story tormented me for seven hundred and forty-nine hours, until it liquefied, and then injected into my veins, and after three hundred and sixty-five weeks, I stretched out another tongue and licked it, the kind of tongue that can be licked on the beach in the previous poem.

This liquefied story was tasted and tasted by me with Kuding tea, and I couldn't stand it, so it went from the vasculature to the ink duct. The ink tube was too short, and I had to vomit, and if I didn't vomit, I was unhappy, so the story turned into black bloodstains, wandering on the white manuscript paper.

This blood stain is spit out from my other tongue, although this tongue has not been sharpened for a long time, it is still too sharp, it will hurt itself if it is retracted, and it will hurt others if it is stretched out, and it is spitting blood instead of honey, so it will inevitably smell fishy, please beware.

Not long ago, my master's cousin was dragged on the hill outside the industrial city when she encountered robbers, and her lover was stabbed more than a dozen times and robbed of more than 400 yuan; a police officer in Phuket Town was assassinated a month ago, and his brother was my colleague.

So this story is a real person.

Around me, from time to time, there are working girls who step into the minefield of love, and there are more tragic tragedies than videos. Many of them didn't even know that their lovers were married men, and that these men either managed to get the woman fired or left the factory and never showed up—this phenomenon made this story stand out, so I wrote it.

But the truth of life is not something I wrote like this, I can't write it like this, and I can't even figure out the true face of the danger, so I write it out and ask readers to discern it. All I know is that this danger is real. Objectively there is zài, and there is zài in our subjective consciousness......

**: This novella also disappeared during the submission journey, and only this introduction remains.