I am too focused on myself
I hear different voices, but they are only what I want myself to hear.
Stop deceiving yourself. I beg you.
What is my love?
Film, music, drama, and literature.
I once wished I had talent, I wished I had the ability to not waste it
I just saw fragile love and life. Is arrogance wrong? Is ambition wrong? How many people want to maintain their dignity when they cross the chasm, but find that this is an inadequate and unnecessary condition?
Yes, I am sarcastic.
I’m also pursuing the things that I despise, and I can’t change anything. Arrogance is actually inferiority and hypocrisy.
I really don’t want to be that way after decades. Maybe I will unintentionally dig out my notebook from the old things someday, maybe I will tell my same arrogant children that I also once loved all the romances that are incompatible with the surroundings. I’m afraid I will change after all. How much dazedness and numbness have to fill a person into the emptiness before she becomes the same as anyone is today?
I beg the pain to fill me up.
I beg myself to forget how to grow up because of suffocation.
Do I remember the extreme beauty?
Do I remember how to live?
Death prevents me from growing up, the corpse will not grow up. But once the corpse begins to laugh, she begins to age.
What do I want?
If I don’t want to age, I need to lose something forever. And starting to get, also means losing something forever. One day even the symbolic meaning will cease to exist.
My heart belongs to you.
You are my dream and myself.
So in love, I have neither gained nor lost.
Please, let me go.
Let me travel freely outside the wind that burns time. When the April monsoon comes, lives in the cemetery wake up. Hundreds of millions of years will be replaced, like being consumed by a wildfire. This is the rule of reciprocating forever.
She lives in one of the brand-new loops. Her new life is so full of energy and courage. She abhors any rules. So they destroy her. Finally, she died. She thought she had won because she never accepted.
She won.
The wind of this season will start to blow again.
I can’t live in any special way, there are traces of everything in this being.
The more I struggle, the more I lose myself.
Not to struggle, is also acting based on a certain script.
Do you think you are rebelling against fate?
Then neither you can live nor die.
I’m listening to a huge joke, but I’m too tired to be polite.
All options are wrong, because all the arrows in this loop point to their own tails.
I beg you. Let me see more. Let me jump out or blow me away, I will never spiral down again.
我太专注于自己
我听到不同的声音，不过是我想要自己听到的
别再欺骗自己了。求你了。
什么是我所爱的？
电影，音乐，戏剧，文学。
我曾但愿自己有所天赋，但愿可以不浪费
就那么看到脆弱的爱情和人生。倨傲是错的吗？野心是错的吗？多少人想在翻越那道鸿沟时依旧保留尊严，却发现这原来是不充分也不必要的条件。
是的，我是讽刺的。
我也追求着自己鄙视的事物，而改变不了任何事情。倨傲实则是自卑啊，也是虚伪。
我真的，不愿在数十年后成为那种模样，也许从旧物里无意翻出我的本子，也许告诉我同样倨傲的子女我也曾热爱一切与周围格格不入的浪漫。我怕我终究是变了。人到底是要由多少茫然和麻木填入空虚，才会变成如今千篇一律的样子。
我乞求痛苦填满我。
我乞求我因为窒息而永远忘记如何去长大。
美到极致的我都记得吗？
我还记得如何活着吗？
死亡阻止着我长大，尸体不会长大。可这具尸体一旦开始大笑，她便开始衰老。
我究竟想得到什么？
若我不愿衰老，便要永远失去。而开始得到，同样永远失去。总有一天连象征意义也不复存在。
我的心属于你。
你是我的梦，是我自己
所以爱情里我既一无所获，也无从失去。
求你了，放我走吧。
让我自由穿行于把时间焚尽的风外。四月的季风来时，墓园中的生命就醒来。数以亿年计的时间将被接替，像被一把野火烧尽。这是永远往复循环的规矩。
她在这其中的一个崭新的循环里生活着。她崭新的生命如此充满活力与勇气。她厌弃任何规矩。因而它们摧残她。终于她死去了。她以为自己因始终未服从而胜利了。
胜利了。
这一季的风又将吹来。
我活不成什么特别的样子，这存有的一切都有迹可循。
我愈挣扎，就愈失去自我。
不争，同样是按照某个剧本行进。
你认为自己是在忤逆命运吗？
然后既无法活着，也不能死去。
我听着一个天大的笑话，却疲惫得无法礼貌。
所有选项都是错的，因这循环里的所有箭头都指向它自己的尾巴。
求你了。让我看到更多。让我跳出去或把我吹远，我再也不会螺旋状下落。