For a writer like me who has just started writing, I feel quite satisfied when I can write 250,000 words, but I always feel that something is missing.

This society is actually quite realistic, everyone longs to be noticed and to be the center of attention. I'm no exception, and when I posted the first chapter online, my primitive, purer heart suddenly changed to a little more realistic.

Before uploading, writing by myself is purely for self-entertainment, and writing novels is also for the sake of having an ending, for a little complacent and insignificant satisfaction in my heart, and there is no utilitarian heart. But the moment I posted it on the Internet, I watched others surrounded by flowers, surrounded by attention, and gaining fame and fortune every day, I was a little envious, and I wanted to be like these people.

But the reality is brutal. It's not as hot as I imagined, and there's no topic of signing a contract, and it's just me coding words, which is really bad. It seems that he is a lonely person walking in the deep mountains and valleys, and he still carries a heavy load on his back. I walked a long way and no one came to talk to me, and I was so lonely that I shouted a few words to the valley myself, and the only response was a lonely echo, and I could not say that I would invite the wolf.

Suddenly, I remembered a movie I had watched before, it seemed to be called "Please Praise Me", I can't remember what the little person played by Fan Wei is called, I now feel like "Fan Wei" at that time, please praise me.

But I just wrote something, and after all, it's only 250,000 words. In the eyes of the masters, it may be something meaningless. But after all, I also worked hard to get here, and I gave up too much rest time, I just want to be recognized.

That's right, it's two words of recognition. No follow-up is fine. But after some self-reflection and adjustment this afternoon, I figured it out. If you don't care about yourself, how can others care about you?

So no matter what people think of you or what they say about you, I just want to write about it. Just pile up the garbage, maybe it will be useful. If it's beautiful, it's not art.

That's it, when your heart is really uncomfortable, climb the mountain, go up the mountain and shout a few voices, and vent the best.