Mr. Floating Dream just wants to write

[If you talk about the heart and love, everyone will have a different reaction, and the source of all this is the heart.Isn't there a word called, what is born from the heart?Leaving aside those scientific explanations, it can be found that, whether it is Taoism or Buddhism, the concept of phase arising from the mind exists.It is a very interesting thing to be able to judge a person's heart through the face. It can even be said that it can make people face each other honestly.The so-called hypocrisy has covered one's heart with an invisible coat, and the boundary between good and evil has been difficult to distinguish since then.

Although it has been said that you should look with your heart, there is no doubt that the heart, like the eye, can be deceived.Moreover, if this is the case, then the deception received is definitely more than the deception received by the eyes.In this way, contradictions arise again, and the mind can clearly see why so many people are deceived?Is it self-deception, or is the heart not as sharp as imagined?No one can tell.

Because the heart is different.When seeing the same scenery, the age, time, and mood will make the scenery different.Of course, for the vast majority of people who are on the road of survival all day, whether the scenery is different is not an important thing.Today's people have completely abandoned the outside world and only receive the information they want.They would rather spend their time on boring TV shows than raise their heads and take a real look at the world.

For this kind of thing, it is absolutely impossible to say that I have no regrets, but it seems to be too much to say.Moreover, I am absolutely not qualified to speak of others.The so-called heart is to do what you think is right, not to care about other people's opinions, it is a matter of self and freedom.Of course, follow the pace of the heart, but also abide by the constraints of the rules.Blindly following one's inclinations, what is waiting ahead is not a beautiful and bright future, but perhaps a deep swamp and hell. 】

The black-haired man stopped writing, stood up from the table, and walked out of the room. The sky had just rained and the sky was exceptionally clear, and even the air had a fresh smell after being washed by rain.The gray sky finally dissipated the dark clouds, leaving only a large area of ​​sunshine, shining warmly on the body, making people drowsy.

"Ah, sir, good morning." The burgundy-haired man who came from the other corner nodded towards him, his gray-blue eyes filled with light and hope.This is probably the best ending, although he can't surprise his friend for the time being.Perhaps, Dazai would like such a surprise?Will Ango be intimidated?Oda Sakunosuke turned these thoughts in his mind for a few times, and finally put them aside temporarily.

Fumeng nodded lightly, "I remember, you want to be a novelist, right?" He didn't bother whether he had told the other party about his thoughts at all, Oda Sakunosuke nodded, "Yeah." He glanced at his He used to think that if these hands were no longer stained with blood, would he be qualified to pick up a pen, and would he be able to know what was written on the torn pages.It's just that although he no longer has any regrets, he still stained his hands with blood again.

"Then write." Fumeng's words have always been casual and free, like fish swimming in a stream, swimming on their own, completely unaware of what they have caused to others.Odasaku shook his head, "But..." Although he is an author, he never thought of publishing it. The man who let the world read glanced at him, and he didn't care, "If that's the case, then don't I wrote it." The wine-red haired man was stunned for a moment, and he nodded slowly.Sure enough, there are words behind the floating dream.

"If you want to write, you will always pick up the pen." Fumeng doesn't think the other party's hesitant attitude, just like what he said, if you want to pick up the pen to write, you will always pick up the pen, not because What deprives others of their lives, is not qualified to write such things to change.Because, at that time, you will find that picking up a pen has become the most important part of your life, fused with your flesh and blood and soul, and can no longer be separated.

The black-haired man stretched his waist, "Did you just come back from another world?" Odasaku nodded. He just came back from another world. Although he said so, it was actually an ordinary city, similar to Yokohama. It's no different, it's hard to make sense of it.But this time the book was a bit difficult to take back. When he came back, he was disheveled and looked as if he had been pressed to the ground and rubbed hard.If it weren't for the help of a maid named Claire, he would have almost died on the spot and owed another 250 years of debt.Thinking of this, Odasaku showed a troubled expression.

Fumeng was not interested in why he showed that expression, he only cared about one thing, he raised his eyelids, golden pupils flickered with bright golden light spots. "How many copies were recovered?" Oda Sakunosuke paused, and hesitantly replied: "Three copies...?" The man showed a somewhat puzzled expression, "Did you remember how many copies you took back?" Oda Saku Not knowing how to answer this question, he organized his words in his mind, and then said: "There is one book, which is a bit strange, and it is scattered."

Hearing his words, Fumeng immediately showed a clear expression, "Ah, that guy, it seems that you are busy." Oda Sakunosuke looked at him in confusion, wanting to get an answer.Fumeng yawned lightly, "That guy is a habitual criminal who escaped." Oda was taught humbly, "That guy will divide himself into several parts, and he must find all of them before he can be counted as a complete recovery. .”

It sounds very troublesome.Oda Sakunosuke thought in his heart, in fact, he did say it.Fumeng shrugged his shoulders, "The guys you will meet in the future will be so strange." He smiled, then turned and left, the two of them are not going in the same direction, they need to separate here.Watching the figure leave, Odasaku walked forward, looking forward to the spicy curry made by Clay.

Although it is not good to eat spicy curry early in the morning, he was asked what he likes to eat before leaving for other worlds.Clay, on the other hand, gives off a rather capable feel.Although the time here is only a few days, maybe even just one night, he has been in the world over there for three full months. He has really been looking forward to this curry for a long time.

"Good morning, Odasaku." The mercury-haired maid put the breakfast on the table, and the curry covered on the rice was not the traditional brown, but red, with a spicy taste.Oda Sakunosuke, who was sitting in front of the table, nodded at her, already impatient.

Crexbe turned around calmly, ignoring whether the man behind her would be coughed by the hot pepper, she walked into the kitchen with a solemn face, and fell into deep thought over the exquisite breakfast on the tray.At this time, my husband should be wandering around, so when are we going to serve him breakfast?She didn't want breakfast to turn into lunch, lunch to turn into dinner, and dinner to turn into supper.However, according to the master, once he falls into his own world, this kind of thing will happen very easily, and Mr. Fumeng himself will not change after repeated admonitions.

"This is not possible." Claire's silver eyes flashed, and she tied up her loose long hair. Whatever she said today, she had to work hard to see if she could reverse her husband's unusual routine.

The burgundy-haired man took a sip of water, and was just about to tell the maid who came out of the kitchen that the spicy curry she made was delicious, when she saw the maid walking over quickly, without paying attention to him at all.

Odasaku withdrew his hand that wanted to say hello, and silently patted his head, "Ah, I'm gone." He looked at the spicy curry on the plate, and then at the water that was almost bottomed out , I finally realized it with hindsight, "Where is the kettle?"

the other side.

The man with golden eyes opened the room that had not been opened for a long time, and the sunlight could see through the window lattice, falling softly on the bookshelves and on the books.He covered his mouth, looked around thoughtfully, and walked into the room. Compared with other rooms, the slightly shady room was just right for storing books.He walked among the bookshelves, his eyes flicking from one book after another.After looking at several rows in a row, he suddenly stopped. He looked at the row of bookshelves in front of him, facing his eyes. There was clearly a vacancy there.

Fu Meng took a look, stretched out his hand, and gently pressed on the spine of the book next to him. The sun set, illuminating half of his body. On the sunny side, even the eyelashes were dyed golden. In the dark room, Fu Meng The golden dust in the air, all of which constitute an artistic painting.

The man lowered his eyes slightly, and his tone was calm and gentle, "Where did the books here go?" As if talking to himself, he put down his hand after a while, "Really, I understand." Getting the answer from the invisible being, or rather, that's it, he turned around and walked towards other bookshelves that he hadn't seen yet.

In less than ten minutes, he looked at all the bookshelves in this library, and after confirming what he wanted to know, he stepped out, turned around and looked at the books still displayed on the bookshelves, and said softly : "Goodbye." Then slowly closed the door.

The mercury-haired woman who had been waiting for an unknown amount of time stood by the pillar, waiting quietly.Standing straight, there is no trace of impatience on his face.Seeing her, Fumeng smiled slightly, "Good morning, Claire."

Wearing a maid outfit, the woman with the same long hair and mercury eyes blinked lightly, and she replied: "Good morning, sir." Standing there, she was strangely different from the surrounding Chinese-style buildings, but Not obtrusive.

[If you want to pick up a pen, you will always pick up the pen.

ペンを解ろとすると, いつもペンを持ってしまう. 】