"On May 10, 2020, I thought about dying again."

In the cluttered room, with the sound of keyboard clicks, such a sentence was left on the floodlit computer screen.

A young man sitting at a computer desk, wearing a pair of dull black-rimmed glasses, a tarz-brown plaid shirt and a pair of wide maki shorts, stared blankly at a text document.

He seemed to be still, as if he was thinking about something.

It wasn't until a long time later that his fingers moved again.

The words "May 10" were deleted and replaced with May 10.

Because he thinks it's easier to read this way.

But then, he began to think about the rationality of the word "to die" again.

I wonder if it would seem too artificial.

So, what can you change it to?

The young man pondered from beginning to end, and even began to read the whole sentence aloud, trying to feel the difference in the text more deeply.

So, another six or seven minutes passed.

When he woke up, he rejected his idea of changing the wording, because none of the other words seemed to be appropriate.

So, let's do it first.

Well......

Finally, it should have taken about ten minutes.

The young man finally finalized the first sentence in the suicide note for a certain character in his pen.

"On May 10, 2020, I thought about dying again."

Immediately, the young man continued to write a self-question and answer in the empty computer text.

"Why do you want to die, the reason for this may be difficult to explain, and it will probably seem ridiculous to describe."

Then his brow furrowed again, and he began to make rounds of revisions to the above content without stopping.

"Why do you want to die, it's probably hard to explain. To be exact, it will probably make many people feel ridiculous. ”

"As for why he died, the reason for this may be difficult to explain, and it may seem ridiculous to describe."

"As for why he died, it may be difficult to explain the reason for this, and it will probably make many people feel ridiculous to describe it."

In such a pointless change.

The young man recited a simple statement back and forth dozens of times. I took every word apart, broke it, and experienced it repeatedly.

But I can't find a context that I think is accurate. Sometimes I get deep, and I keep checking punctuation and sentence breaks.

The sparse and ordinary words gradually became extremely complex in his eyes.

Even in the following narrative, he even considered it:

Whether the same words should not appear consecutively, whether the continuation of paragraphs rhymes, and whether the sum of words is divisible by the number of chapters.

He tried to keep his articles neat.

But instead, he realizes that his behavior is pathological, so he wants to break the frame.

In the end, his thoughts strengthened the shackles.

And so on and so forth.

Until the end, the young man's mind completely turned into a mess.

"Ahh

Finally he cried and fell on the table and grabbed his hair.

In the second year of living alone, He Wen felt that he seemed to have lost his talent for writing.

He had a disease, an obsessive-compulsive mental illness that stemmed from a specific type of factor. Affected by this, He Wen suffered from many symptoms of anxiety and depression. Then I had to take medication every day to adjust my lifestyle.

He felt like he was going crazy, yes, he was going crazy.

In the chaos of words and paragraphs, under the utter illogic of sentences.

It's like there are countless tongues, constantly arguing about some unsolvable questions, and at the same time forcing him to answer.

But He Wen didn't know the answer at all, so the sound in his ears couldn't stop.

"Ha ......"

Between the tables and chairs stacked with miscellaneous items, the young man who had vented his emotions was panting tiredly.

He wanted to silence the voice in his head.

At this moment, there is no doubt that I would like to think about it.

……

Recently, Jiang Sheng has found a new way to forage.

Instead of accepting handouts from others, or looking for leftovers from restaurants, it is a more "dignified" way to maintain one's own survival.

In summary, this type of activity is often referred to as hunting.

That's right, Jiang Sheng learned to hunt for food in the city.

As for the location of its "hunting ground", it is not unusual, and the exact location is in a river beach on the edge of the city.

The water is not deep and is connected to a small stream, so schools of wild fish often swim through.

This undoubtedly provides Jiang Sheng with an excellent fishing place.

The spacious and clear riverbed gives it complete conditions and gives full play to its own advantages.

The way black cats catch fish is roughly as follows: let the black qi on their bodies "interfere" with the behavior of the fish, making them unlucky and sluggish.

Then, like a rock, it waited quietly where it saw fit, waiting for an eyeless fish to swim to its side.

Eventually, it will use its claws and fangs, as well as its strength far greater than that of a normal domestic cat, to break through the water and capture it.

Admittedly, this method does have a bit of a wait-and-see flavor. But the skills involved in the two are far from the same. (Realistic)

Luck, patience, and strength are all indispensable, this is Jiang Sheng's "way of survival".

"Meow!" With an imposing cat meow.

Another palm-sized grass carp was slapped onto the riverbank by Jiang Sheng, fluttering weakly.

Slowly walked to the other party's side and picked up the fish with his mouth.

didn't care about the strong fishy smell, but the cat's taste buds made Jiang Sheng's eyes squint pleasantly.

At this moment, it has to admit that the resentment in its body is not useless.

"Resentment", this is the name that Jiang Sheng got for the black qi emanating from his body.

There is no special reason or conjecture, just because their concepts are not so auspicious, so Jiang Sheng equated the two sides.

When it comes to controlling his grievances, Jiang Sheng has not made any progress so far.

As long as it stays near it for a long time, it will be affected by this ominous aura, and then become unlucky.

The degree of bad luck fluctuated, and Jiang Sheng himself couldn't figure out the rules.

From the fish's point of view, sometimes it's just a momentary trance. Sometimes, it died suddenly, so that Jiang Sheng didn't know how to speak.

"Sting."

Cleanly tearing off a piece of snow-white fish meat, Jiang Sheng lay on the grass by the river beach. While hooking your tail, you can enjoy your own lunch.

Its days are still peaceful, except for the poor schools of fish, and even the occasional butterfly that flies by is not disturbed by it.

A week after Xia Zi left, Jiang Sheng, who just watched her leave, returned to a casual life.