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46 forgot something

It was the ordinary life of daily life, just staying in the cold drink shop, just snorting the drink, and my mind was blank, blank and impulsive, as if I was impulsive and wanted to curse.

But there is still no way to hold on to yourself, there will be wandering, there will be confusion, there will be so uneasy, there is something there struggling, constantly struggling, in that struggle there is the idea of wanting to give up. The voice of something kept echoing in my head: let go, let go, give up, give up.

In those very lonely times, there is the idea of wanting to cry, sometimes crying is not necessarily because of what kind of melancholy and helplessness, crying only because of loneliness, crying only because of injury, crying only because of embarrassment, crying only because of pain, still at a loss there, or there is resentment, but there is suddenly a feeling of resentment that may be gone. To disappear again like this.

Will it betray? And if he betrayed you? There is no emotion, no emotion is needed, emotion is like what kind of fragile thing, enthusiasm will eventually be absorbed by cold and indifference, there is no heaven to be found in the cold hell, heaven is distant, heaven is gone. There was only resentment there, just emotions that seemed to be so unsolvable. There are too many emotions and what kind of plot is so unsolvable, what kind of plot and emotion are difficult to solve for a long time. Far away something.

Distant heaven and distant sky, what are you for? Is it crying? Or paradise? Looking for paradise? Heaven is like something that can't be found, it will be so much and forever that you can't find it, you can't find any reason, it's just so lonely, following there, trembling there, crazy and crying there. Weeping there, trembling there, reasserting something, but nothing can be done again, just in the howling of the storm, the long-term roar, the long-term roar, in the torn trembling, dodging, crying, helplessness, or evasion.

It was old sorrow, it was entangled, it was so messy, it was sad and it seemed to be a very ridiculous mess, it had the smell of vomiting, as if it was so constantly trying to vomit, and then it was so like vomiting out of its stomach, trembling there, suppressing there, being beaten down there, being beaten down like this, being completely beaten down like that. There it was just tangled in resentment. The emotion of resentment seems to be like a tongue of fire that lingers for a long time, it is the fear of the flame, it disappears in the midst of that fear and fear, it is something that is unstable. It is what kind of instability disappeared for a long time.

The coldness of the heart, the ruthlessness of the heart, is so frozen and ruthless, but there is something that comes so and this, and goes like this, what comes, what goes, but what you can't get, as if you get so little, as if you get always so little, and what you get is always so little. That's a kind of unsatisfying. It's a kind of never-ending dissatisfaction, like something that will never be satisfied. Maybe to fill in the black hole like a black whirlpool, that is never possible. That's something that can never be satisfied.

I don't know what everything will become, and I don't know what everything will be again. It's something that trembles, it's something unstable, what kind of instability, what kind of panic, what kind of messiness, what kind of helplessness, it's a happy trance, but it seems that there is no satisfaction in that place. In the prostration and powerlessness of the whole body, I had to choose to give up so much, that is, I gave up for so long. What kind of uneasiness, what kind of helplessness, the road to the future is so slim, so ethereal, so impossible to trance.

The long-term journey, the long-term dream, that is the emptiness of the dream, it is like the emptiness of the dream, as if the dream is wandering, there is something credible, there is something unbelievable. When the glass door was pushed open, the sound of "jingle bells", in that "jingle bell", there was a kind of shattered memory, like some kind of shattered pain, and like what kind of shattered and broken pain and pain. What kind of disappearance and dissipation is the pain and pain that can never be seen again, can no longer be found.

What kind of feelings are that, what kind of unspeakable feelings, every pain in the heart that cannot be respoken, what disappears, is so long and long-lasting.

Do you know that pain? It was the transparent shattering of the air, as if it were a transparent explosion in the air, and the eyes in the explosion were just blinking, as if they had seen nothing, and it was as if they had just seen a mushroom cloud in front of them, a terrifying explosion of the mushroom cloud, but who was the figure after the mushroom cloud explosion?

Whose back is it, whose turn is it, whose turn is it that can no longer be found, what kind of difficulty is it to find, what kind of impossibility is there, what kind of impossibility is it that seems to be blasted, what kind of silence and silence it is, in the silence and silence that seems to be so about to eat itself, it is as if it is so suddenly injured for no reason or reason, as if it is so devastated as if it is injured, it is destructive and self-harming.

There's something there, there's something that's angry, it's something that's out of control, it's like an uncontrollable chaos, there's no way to find relief in that chaos, it's like that's so tired and still so tired and still can't find any way.

If you can't find any liberation, that's how in a world where there is no liberation, you fall weak and fall, you fall to the ground, you fall to the ground, you fall to the ground. It was a non-stop vomiting, such a pain of extinction and extinction, such a painful and painful one, what kind of emotions and complexes were there that were difficult to unravel, difficult to unravel, what kind of emotions were difficult to stretch, what kind of emotions were doubts and confusions.

It was as if something was exploding there, something was constantly churning in the stomach, messy and painful in that churning, it was a blank in my mind, what a helpless and helpless blank, and what a faint in that helpless blank, in that mind, what a desperate fainting.

In a coma, I thought about what kind of suicide plot and emotion, that was an impulse, and what kind of uneasiness was that emotional uneasiness, emotional death, and fainted as if I was going to die.

In the silence of such a fainting, in the complete forgetfulness of that fainting, in the confusion of being at a loss, in the faintness of that faintness, in that faint pain, what kind of unending troubles, such a kind of non-stop troubles, such a kind of non-stop troubles, that is like such a pain that will continue to breed, in the midst of that breeding pain, and there is no mistake. What kind of horror is there, what kind of life is there, is it a living departure, is it not a direct separation of the joints, is it a tearing of the wound?

It's not an injury, it's just a kind of self-mutilating emotion that breeds in that trouble, that self-mutilation is only because it can't get rid of itself, it's a small world, it's hard to get rid of in that small and narrow world, it's so painful that it feels like it's hard to get rid of, it's the pain of every nerve that hurts, it's a nerve throbbing, it's a signal from the body, it's a signal of pain, but it's something that can't be found in the middle of no way.

It's as if you can't find a way to find anything like this, as if you can't find it for so long.

Just cut it off. It's just that something is going to be extinct and broken, and it's gone.

I just want to take a breath like this, I want to take a breath in the trembling of powerlessness, I want to take a breath again, I want to take a good rest, I want to take a good rest, I want to take a good rest, I just want to take a good rest, I just want to take a good break, I just want to take a breath like this, I want to take a breath like this, I just want to take a breath like this, I just want to take a breath like this, I just want to take a breath so much, I just want to take a breath so much, I just want to take a breath so much, I just want to take a good breath, I just want to take a good rest, I just want to take a good rest, I just want to take a good break, I just want to take a good break, I just want to take a breath of breath, I just want to take a breath of breath, I just want to take a breath of breath, I just want to take a breath of breath and I want to What is too easily absorbed, and what is so easily plundered by something.

Is that a cruelty? Or is that a pain? It is the pain in that trouble, the long-term and long-term trouble in that pain, but it is only the powerlessness in that trouble, just so empty and blank in the trouble. In that it may or may not be.

It's long-term, it's long-term, it's selfish, it's something you can't let go, it's like something you can't unravel. There are too many things that can't be solved, what kind of plot is so unsolvable, there are too many messy plots, and they can't be solved in that place, and they can't be solved in one place that is shaking there again.

What kind of pedantry will grow there, what kind of plot and emotion is the rout, and what kind of complete admission of defeat will be, as if it is impossible to admit defeat anymore. Just admit defeat. In his simple sentence of "you win", many times, while winning, it also means that something in life is lost, it is such a complete loss, such a complete loss, such a complete loss, so painful loss.

In the pain of winning and losing, and the void of nothingness. There's something there, it's hard to struggle. There is something that is hard to find there, there are too many and too many that are constantly chaotic there, and it is so and so that what kind of beating there is, what kind of angry jumping flame there is, what kind of angry fire there is, what kind of fire of life that comes from the human body...

That is the burning and breeding of the fire of life, that is the end and end of life, that is the long-term and long-term life, is so helpless, is so powerless, in the midst of a large number of contradictions and conflicts, what kind of fear, what kind of fear, what kind of fear, is there so and so constantly afraid, there is constant fear.

In that fear is like a raging storm, when that fear is like a roaring wave, there is some strange pain complex there to grasp his heart tightly, it is so completely and hard to grip his heart, so completely and so completely grasp every pain and pain in his heart.

That is or may be something, and then it is something that is or cannot be. What kind of scar is that, what kind of scar is it that hurts and hurts, but it is only an injury in that pain, only in the cracking of that wound, what kind of pain there is, just so I hope that the pain can be so greater, I just hope that the wound will be deeper, it is better to let the pain penetrate deep into the heart, and it is best to let the pain faint.

It's really sad and at a loss, in the scar of hurt and pain, it's the scar of injury, it's the scar of pain, what kind of disgust it feels again, what kind of pain it is, and what kind of pain it is, and the pain is as if there is no feeling, and the pain is as if it has lost its senses.

What kind of blur there is, that is a long-term blur, that is a piece of sky that you are looking for, that is a blue but so unreal blue, what kind of billowing clouds and smoke are under that blue background, it is gray or black billowing smoke. It was a burning flame, what a leaping tongue of fire. A burning flame in the burning or physical kind, or a burning flame in the heart.

In that kind of burning, what kind of confusion there is, what kind of difficulty it is to get rid of, what kind of difficulty it is to get rid of, what kind of difficulty to get rid of and what kind of hard to get rid of. The knot in her heart that could not be untied, the untie of the white gauze-like ribbon wrapped around the woman's head one after another, it was the white ribbon, it was the ribbon that kept wrapping around her head.

What kind of destruction is that, what kind of destruction is it, what kind of inextricability it is, what kind of inextricability it is, what kind of inability to do it, what kind of inability to do it.

Will there be vanity? Will there be the thrill of ambition there? She once thought that when there was a beautiful woman in front of her after being disfigured, the pain of the other party would become her own happiness.

For a while, she may forget that she is also a girl, and forget how much physical and mental damage a girl's disfigurement will bring her, but she may also be because she is a girl, and she especially wants to see the disfigured feeling of the woman who is like a flower.

There is always what kind of contempt, there is something there painful deception, there is something there helpless deception, pain, and sighing, such a deep sigh, and such a helpless sigh. The helpless sigh was so long and long, long and long, disappeared and disappeared, not really, blank.

And then there's the kind of troubles that keep breeding. And in the midst of that breeding trouble, there is something that cannot be approached there, there will be so much, too much that is difficult to approach, there is too much unreality and so difficult to approach. There is a lot of deception, there is a lot of indifference, it is a terrible and pathetic indifference of looks and feelings, but how helpless in that indifference.

The last sigh in that indifference, the last deep breath in that sigh, but in that breath it was so re-let go of something, that is, so gently re-put down. It's possible to get close without approaching, and it's like it's hard to get close.

There will always be a time of vacancy and blankness, and there will be something that I can't find in that place, and I can't find something there. What kind of unreality, what kind of distrust, and the coldness and indifference between people in such a crowd will make the heart feel painful and unbearable, then it will seem to be the sadness of the heart, as if it is a wound of the heart.

There's always so much that can't be done. There are still so many waits, always so constantly what kind of waiting is needed, what kind of sadness and sorrow are needed for such a long and long time. It's going to be painful, it's going to be sad, it's going to be so powerless, it's like a complete collapse after an injury.

In the powerlessness, it was like there was almost no oxygen in the fish tank, and in the fish tank without oxygen, the fish that swam away was just swimming so weakly, gradually unable to swim, and gradually unable to swim away in the fish tank without oxygen. It's just messed up there, messy in the mess, powerless in the mess.

There was something that seemed to be declining, and it was only then that I found out that the fish block was about to die when it was resting, just because it lived in a fish tank without oxygen, because she lived in the stagnant water, because it lived in a place where it could not live.

A place where you can't live, a place where you can't breathe again. What kind of isolation will there be. It was the isolation of the fish's fish tank from the outside world, and it seemed to be the isolation of her heart from the outside world, as if it was so difficult to get closer and find a closer.

It is the distance and negligence of the heart, it is the distance between the heart, as if it is so far away, as if it is so unreal, so far away.

It is so impossible, and it is such a wrong rooting, it is a wrong breeding, it is also such a wrong growth, it is also such a wrong revisit, in the place where it is revisited, under the willow trees that have returned, the willow trees that used to be lush in rows are no longer the blooming and luxuriant summer.

It was a season of sorrow and desolation, in the season of cold winter, in the season of sorrow and decline, in the season of decay of destruction and death, in the season of withering and desolation that could no longer be found, but it was a season of cold and freezing, a season of desolation, in the desolation, among the desolate willow trees, strolling and walking, but it was such a step.

She's a sad woman, she's a disfigured woman, she's just wrapped in layers of white gauze, she's so blind, no nose, no mouth, just so full of layers of white gauze, and then, she's just sighing, sighing so deeply.

The distant sigh seems to be from the spring that has just been unearthed and sprouted, so it is so to the heart of the blooming and prosperous summer, then into the withering golden autumn, and finally so completely into the refrigerated and frozen winter, that is a cold winter, that is very cold will exhale a piece of condensation in the air a white mist winter.

In that cold winter, what kind of indescribable sorrow, what kind of powerlessness, powerless struggle, powerless pain, and in that powerlessness it is difficult to feel warmth, as if it is so warm and unwarm, it is so warm that cannot be felt.

That's something that is no longer possible, that's something that is broken, just like that, from the confusion of the mind, it's as if it's so awake, and it's as if it's so powerless to wake up again, but it's like it's so powerless after waking up.

After waking up, she was still so groggy, she walked so dazed, stepped forward, walked forward, and then, the empty feet, just lost any center of gravity and fell, so there was no choice between the general fall and death, everything seemed to be a one. It doesn't seem to be, and it's not inevitable.