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50 How perplexed

She was originally an ordinary woman, but later because of a coincidence, she was arrested by officers and soldiers, and later was unexpectedly selected to be a princess among a group of palace maids, everything was unexpected by her, and everything was like a nightmare, and the nightmare was just beginning. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

She herself was helpless in that place. A lot of thoughts and emotions, for a while can't find the answer, for a while can't seem to find any kind of answer, bad explanation, so I want to put it there, just want to put it there first, it's like that, it's so completely let go of something to let myself rest and rest, just so rest and rest, it seems to be so and so

There is something so far away, so far away and so far, in that place of forgetting, in that forgetting what kind of mechanical sorrow, and in that forgetting, what kind of mechanical sorrow, and helplessness, but in that sudden birth, suddenly something appears, and suddenly something disappears so much.

In the vanishing piece, in the vanishing void, it is so lightly confused, it is so lightly sad, in that distracted sadness, there is something so unavoidable, so difficult to find, and so like something that seems to have to wait for a long time. Something that was there had disappeared there.

What disappears is what is not real. There is something good, there is something that seems to be right and wrong, it is a fault of a wrong, there is a lot of mess, there is too much mess in the entanglement of it, there is something there faintly disappears, disappears like a cloud of smoke.

What kind of waiting, what kind of waiting there, wanting to wait there for a long time, wanting to cherish and cherish there, in the anxiety and haggardness of the heart, suddenly there seems to be something that seems to have disappeared there, as if it has disappeared there suddenly, and it is impossible to find it anymore.

Something disappeared like a flame, as if the flame had been extinguished by a cold basin of water, waiting there, waiting for something quietly, waiting for something so unreal, but still for so long I didn't know if I was looking forward to something, and I didn't know if I was looking for something.

It's just that all of a sudden, it's as if there's something unreal, there's something that's so unreal, there's something that hasn't been found there, there's something that hasn't been found there.

In the unsearchable something, there is what kind of unsearchable emptiness and confusion, who has come, warm, sad, sorrowful, helpless, anxious, trance, blazing heart fire burned, and then turned into dust, turned into ashes, and disappeared again, as if it were such a complete novel, what appeared unreal, and disappeared again.

It's just that the heart is suddenly anxious, and the heart is suddenly anxious, as if one of my own hearts is on the flame and is grilling, just like burning on the burning flame, it is the burning of life, it is still so painful and helpless, and it is also so helpless in the burning of the sadness, in the blank anxiety, in the anxiety suddenly the complete desire to disappear, so completely gone, it is so completely gone, it is so completely gone, it is so sullen.

It's just occasionally, at that moment, or for a certain period of time, that I feel a little disturbed, just so that I feel that I can't manage my emotions again or so well, and I will be so careless that I fall into that small world, and it is difficult to wander in that small world.

The self that can't break free is like being at that moment, there is something that is difficult to untie there, and it is so difficult to break free of the self.

What has disappeared is what is so deceitful, it is so deceitful, it is so deceitful and vacant, there is something there for a long time, what cannot be found in that deception, what is waiting and guarding in the indifference of that deception. What do you care about, and what you want to forget so much.

There is something there to care about, and there is something to look forward to, but suddenly, just trembling there, just trembling there, just trembling in that place, trembling for a long time, what is there is that is already there and cannot be approached, what is already so helpless, there is something there I can't bear to bear.

There is such a kind of loneliness, and that is a kind of loneliness hurt. And this kind of loneliness is still so unbearable to let anyone accompany it, and who to accompany this loneliness is still a kind of unbearable.

It's just so difficult to unravel, just so helpless, I don't know how to wait, I don't know how to care and love, just quietly, waiting for the germination of seeds, the germination of seeds, what is growing there, where it slowly seems to be growing seriously, constantly growing, and it seems to be growing so continuously, it is so trance like a dream, what kind of companionship, what kind of dissociation, what exists, and what disappears.

In the thick black night fog, it was a frozen flower, a frozen blood-red flower, the flower bloomed in the night mist, the bloom of every bud, the withering and withering of each petal, what kind of sorrow, what kind of heart-broken sorrow, what kind of broken in the withering season is difficult to wait.

That's what can't be waited, that's what is difficult to do, that's what there is no way to do, that's some heartache, some heartache and pain, it's really pitiful, it's really reluctant, it's too much reluctance, there's too much helplessness.

It's just there, it's just there, it's just there, it's just waiting and waiting, all of a sudden it's dumb, it's so silent, it's like it's forgotten everything, it's so silent, it's so isolated, it's like it's been so long, it's isolated, it's isolated.

I know that there is too much pain and so much pain, there is no way to get rid of it, the pain in the heart, but if there is something in the heart that cannot be untied, it is like a thorn deep in the heart, and the thorn is so deep and painful, but there is still nothing to be done in that deep pain.

Everything seems to be so helpless, in those blows, in those constant blows and pains, there are so many sorrows, there will be so many pains in every nerve in the body, in the pain of care, what kind of care, what kind of urgent care.

There was eagerly cared for something, there was eagerly waiting for something, and it was so eager that it seemed like something had been lost. Something that is too close, it seems that it will still lose something, as if it is so suddenly indifferent and completely disappears and loses something, what is wrong, what should not be, what is in the midst of that cloud, what wants to push away.

The embrace that was pushed open, the warmth that was pushed away, the complex that was pushed open, the door that was pushed open, the door that opened to see another world, to see the newborn world, another heaven, and the guardian of that heaven was waiting there, and seemed to be waiting there, only to be confused there.

What kind of thing is gone, what kind of care and care is there, but there seems to be so much care about what can't be cared for, what kind of liberation, what kind of liberation is there again, and what kind of liberation and unraveling there.

There it was like the beginning and forgetting of a dream, what kind of dream, in the glass-like broken dream, in the crystal clear of the world, but so unreal and unreal, what can never be found, what can never be touched, but what kind of voice is there as if it has always been so called, stronger, stronger, stronger and stronger.

It's still so at a loss, it's still as if it's blowing like a gust of wind, it's disappearing quickly, it's so completely gone, and it's like it's disappearing and disappearing like something that can't be found anymore.

In the weeping plea, in the sad plea, there is still something, what kind of door is so closed, it is such a door, it is so completely closed and closed, it is so weeping and so desperate and powerless to knock on the door, so powerlessly knocking on such a door that has long been closed.

Seeking, and it seems that they don't seek anything, they don't know what they are seeking, and they are so unwanted, they don't ask for anything, they don't ask for anything, and in the end, they still don't know what they are seeking or not seeking.

In those days of pain and hardship, what is there is that is difficult there, what is there is suffering, I don't know when such painful days and times will have to wait again, I don't know what to wait for, in that vacancy and blankness, there is something anxious, there is a haggard anxious waiting, in that pain, in the pain of life, there is something urging there, urging like a fatality, and it is so helplessly entangled and difficult.

It's such a bridge, it's like a bridge that can't be walked over, and it can't be crossed, a bridge of criticism, and on this side of the bridge there is a lonely little girl who is in distress, just like the five or six-year-old girl in the memory of the dream.

And on the other side of the bridge, there was a little boy, a little boy of her age, a little boy of her age, who seemed to be looking for something like her, where it seemed to be waiting for something, looking for something, but it seemed to be so unwaiting, unsearching, and then so empty.

It was a sudden emptiness, as if it had suddenly been blank, and something had disappeared, as if it had disappeared there. What will be there is unknown, and what will be there is no way to do it.

There will be something that is heartbroken and cannot be approached, not all good things can be approached, not all flowers can be picked so easily and arbitrarily, there is something there that cannot be picked.

There is something that cannot be picked up there, like what kind of shadow is attached and cared about, like what kind of shadow is shrouded in the heart, in that thick shadow to live and die, it seems that it can't be, what kind of life can't be, what kind of pain can't be found, what kind of care is there, what kind of reluctance is there, what kind of time is difficult to let go, it is difficult to let go.

What is the one who lets go, what is there that is difficult to let go, what kind of pain is so can't let go, what kind of pain can't let go, what kind of pain is so ordinary, what kind of unknown pain is so general, what kind of cover is there, what kind of thing is covered up and can't be done, what kind of sorrow is there, what kind of pain is locked in the heart, as if there is a pain of piercing the heart.

At that heart-piercing moment, what kind of heart-piercing pain is there, like a piercing heart-piercing heartache, what kind of flame is there, it is like a hot and blazing fire burning there, burning violently.

It will disappear like that, just like what kind of long-term animal will disappear, and what kind of anxiety will there be, what kind of uneasiness will there be in that sudden disappearance, like a knife constantly stirring in the heart, stirring like pain.

It would be so uneasy, it would be so hurt, but it would be so soothing, and it would seem to be so quietly asleep, and it would be like a normal dizziness without warning, a dead sleep without any signs of awakening.

What kind of revival there is, like a monster that has been sleeping for a long, long time, the awakening of a monster that has been sleeping for a long time, and the monster that has been sleeping for many years suddenly woke up for something, his awakening seems to be for a destruction, his awakening is like a new destruction for what kind of destruction, what kind of embarrassment.

What kind of overwhelm, what kind of embarrassment, what kind of confusion, what kind of start there, where the struggle begins, where the struggle begins, what kind of restart there is, what kind of crushing the beginning.

What kind of unwilling beginning, what kind of dream-like sad and sad beginning, what kind of can't be done, and so seemingly impossible, dissipating in the destruction, pleading for something, begging for something, begging for something, looking for something, but still being kicked out so hurtfully, still being kicked out so painfully and coldly.

With the wounds of his own body, with the pain of his own body, with the illness of his own body, there is chaos, where he wanders like a dream, in that despair like a pool of stagnant water, just looking at the dead silence of a water, just like looking through the autumn water.

What kind of thoughts are there, the slightest traction of the heart's waves, the heart's ups and downs, like a small pebble is like this and this fell into a calm water, look at the pale cyan water ripples out of a circle of water lines.

It is such a circle of water lines, as if it is so about to forget and forget the water lines, not the ripples of water, but the ripples of the heart that ripple in the heart, it is such a circle, layer after layer of the ripples of the heart and the ripples of the heart, like whose eyes, like whose eyes look back, like whose care and care, and as if it is so like whose warmth.

Like someone's warmth-like care, what kind of forgetfulness, what kind of care can't be approached again, what kind of heart-locking sorrow, what kind of worries, what kind of helpless concerns.

Worries are clenched in that heart, they are so tightly clenched, and in the whirlpool of pain that is clenched, they are still so empty and helpless, where they are helpless, where they can no longer care about and take care of too much, when they are just waiting for something so haggardly.

Waiting for a long time, it seems to be so empty and waiting, it is so empty of waiting, it is like waiting for such an impossibility, there are too many kinds of helplessness, there are too many helplessness.

I don't know what to do there, I can't do anything there, I want to smile warmly, I just want to laugh like this, I just want to smile at you, and I can smile back at the end, but I can't do it, and I can't do it.

The world is not as beautiful as imagined, there will be a lot of troubles, and there will be a lot of troubles unintentionally, and there will be so many troubles in the end, and I am worried about it in the midst of so many troubles.

What kind of heart burns, the heart burns like a flame there, and it burns so hot, as if it didn't exist. There are what can't be done, and what is difficult to do. What kind of possibility, what kind of impossibility, what kind of forgetfulness, what kind of blankness, what kind of helplessness, what kind of search and what can't be found.

It's just so empty and sad, just so faint and clear, a wisp of breeze, the river ripples gently ripple, it is so like water ripples, like ripples, the waves are seen in the river, and it is like flowing in the bottom of the heart, it is the ripples in the heart.

It seems that the waves in the heart are not shocked, there is a flow of water together, and it seems that there is a kind of sadness and sadness that pierces the bottom of the heart like a needle, but the sharpest needle piercing is pierced into the softest part of the heart, so pierced, bleeding.

There was a lot of bleeding from the wound, and it was bleeding constantly, and it hurt so much that it hurt as if I would be intoxicated, and it hurt as if I felt death and electric shock all over my body. The pain in that electric shock, the helplessness and melancholy in that electric shock, and the trembling in that electric shock, it seems to come from the trembling and innocence of the body, as if it comes from the helplessness of the body.

What kind of hard work and persistence, what kind of difficult persistence and maintenance, what kind of maintenance and waiting in that difficulty, what continues in that difficulty, what is melancholy in that difficulty and pain, what can't be done there, what is there seems to be so impossible.

It's not the wind that whirls quietly, it's not the wind, it's as if the man's palm is holding someone's hand, just like holding the hand of the woman who is attached in a dream, and it is empty and selfless in that emptiness.

The whirling air, the whirling people, the whirling dance, what else is in the memory, what kind of picture is swirling in the memory, the whirling happiness, that is uncontrollable happiness, like the beating of one's own heart that cannot be healed again. The heart was beating there, so long and undisturbed, as if it were so helpless, and so helpless and helpless.

In the days of possibility and impossibility, in the days of truth or falsehood, in the pain of truth and unreality, there are too many unreals, too many impossibilities, too many impossible things, too many things that cannot be done, too many things that are difficult to let go of and cannot be done.

What kind of impossibility, what kind of entanglement and embarrassment pain, what kind of pain and sadness, what kind of companionship, and what kind of long-term and long-term companionship.

What kind of complex is inexplicable, and what kind of complex is difficult to let go and difficult to unravel, what is there that is difficult to explain there, what is so inexplicable. It's like something that I can't explain all the time.

It's been so helpless, so I don't know how to find what kind of liberation and what to unravel.

What kind of emotions can't be solved, what kind of thoughts can't be solved, what kind of worries can't be solved, what kind of helplessness can't be solved, just crying in that quiet air, just being at a loss in that quiet air, just whirling in that quiet air, whirling in that crying.

The long and long whirlwind in that crying is so painful and painful, but it seems to be melancholy and infallible in that whirlwind, and I begin to suspect something, I begin to suspect that something is wrong, I begin to doubt what kind of fault and should not be, and it seems to be trust. But it is so not deliberately disbelieving and distrustful.

It's just that I've been deceived for too long, and somehow I'm scared all of a sudden, I'm so scared, I'm so scared, I'm so scared, I'm afraid.