Mr. Floating Dream just wants to write

【Giving up is not something to be ashamed of. Most of the life in this world is unsatisfactory.For many people, giving up seems like a rather difficult thing to say, but some things have to be given up.The so-called trade-off is to give up one side and get the other side.

Of course, generally speaking, it is difficult for most people to make a choice. This is due to human nature, wanting to have both.But the ancients said that you can't have both fish and bear's paw.

As far as I am concerned, the things I see through my own eyes may not be completely real, but there is still a sliver of credibility.Many people will be extremely hesitant when faced with a choice, which side is better, the left or the right?If there is one more choice, the time for consideration will be multiplied.But it is such a "careful" choice, but after the choice, you will fall into the mood of regret.

It is true that human beings are a fickle race, a self-interested race.

...]

Mr. Fumeng lowered his brows and eyes, and his calm and soothing breathing showed his mood at the moment.At this moment, the shoji door was pulled open again.

The faint, seemingly absent, faint medicinal fragrance is the herbal scent that has been acquired with the company of herbs all the year round.The identity of the visitor has become clear.

"How do you feel?" The drug seller sat down, facing the black-haired man.Fumeng didn't open the eyes that were staring at him, the eyelashes were thick and slender, like the wings of a butterfly, "Fortunately, instead of caring about me, why don't you care about Natsume-dono." A proud cat.

Seeing his appearance, the drug seller bent his mouth, "I think that what is said should be what I say?" He stretched out his hand, his light blue eyes were like clear streams or clear lake water, and he was like this Waiting quietly.

Fu Meng clicked her tongue, looking calm, but could see reluctance from it.He stretched out his hand, revealing a section of his wrist. His fair skin was almost pale, and blue blood vessels faintly emerged, with a touch of luxury and luxury, making people want to bite gently, leaving marks one after another.

The drug seller gently pressed the veins that concealed the breath of life, and the blood vessels under his fingertips did not throb, but the drug seller ignored this abnormality, and what he wanted to check was another thing.

The temperature belonging to another person is transmitted through the contact area of ​​the fingertips, and at the same time, there is also gentle strength and a steady beating heartbeat.

Mr. Floating Dream looked down at the short arm that was exposed, and the complex emotions in his eyes were covered, "You don't have to do this." He moved his arm, trying to pull it back, but was held down.The force was very light, and he could break free with a little struggle, but the man became quiet like a cat being held by the back of the neck.

"do not move."

The man with light blond hair said lightly, and after a while, he took his hand away and rummaged through the medicine box he was carrying to find what he needed.

Mr. Fumeng propped his face and kept his previous movements. Compared to him, the power of the medicine seller is gentle, and that kind of power feels like the afternoon sun.

"Drinked."

The medicine seller gave him a bowl of prepared medicine, and took out a brush and cinnabar.

This is to strengthen the seal on Floating Dream.Another meaning of having great power is to be restricted by thousands of times stronger than others.This is the only way to maintain balance.Neither cinnabar nor brushes are ordinary things.

Putting the bowl of the medicine aside, there was silence between the two of them.The drug seller raised his eyebrows, "What are you waiting for?" The man was silent for a while, there were pieces of gold flying in his golden pupils, he stretched out his hand and unbuttoned his clothes.

The room was extremely quiet, Mr. Fumeng frowned slightly, he hated the wet feeling, the soft nib was stained with a mixture of red cinnabar and golden spring water.The pen tip drew complex patterns on the back, and the golden and red streamers flashed and sank into the skin.

"do not move."

The drug seller held his waist, glanced at Fumeng who was already a little irritable, then lowered his head again, completing the runes.

After an unknown amount of time, the medicine seller put down the pen in his hand, "Okay."

The moment the red mantra was completed, it had life. On the white skin, it rushed in all directions, then sank into the skin, and drilled deeper.If you can take out a piece of bone, you will find that there are scarlet lines on the pale bones, and the golden light turns into chains, sealing off the breath and soul.

The black-haired man moved his fingers, as if he was quite uncomfortable, as if he was suddenly put on shackles.After confirming that there was nothing wrong with Floating Dream, the drug seller put away his things and ordered in a doctor's tone: "Don't use destructive force."

Mr. Fu Meng nodded and made up his mind to be a young man of literature department.

The drug seller sighed softly, his water-colored pupils were a little helpless, "You think so every time, but you never do it." The black hair like crow feathers was in stark contrast to the fair skin, golden yellow His eyes turned black in an instant, and then changed back again. He smiled, "It's beyond my control."

【…

I don't have the talent to write, but even so, I still have to pick up a pen and write down. Why?

I am not good at pungent language to resist the injustice of the world. The words in my pen are not offensive at all, and cannot express resentment on behalf of a group of people to accuse the darkness of society.However, even so, I still want to write something with my own pen.

What I can describe is only flashy things, only messy words, which cannot make up a perfect story.But even so, I still want to write.The more you pursue, the more you get away. This feeling is too painful.

The words and sentences written by racking one's brains are not satisfactory to oneself, how can such things be shown to others?One side is longing, one side is indifferent, one side is satisfied with oneself, and the other side is low self-esteem.The soul was torn apart, and the tiredness that surged in my heart made me want to cry.

It is useless to flaunt your own articles.Even if I get the evaluation of others, I am not satisfied. I stand in the center of the cross street, very confused. What do I want?I have no idea.But like an addiction, the pen in my hand is so fascinating.

I want to give up on myself, but I am not satisfied with what others write or think.When the words under my pen took shape, I found that I was like a child with different languages, and others were like adults who could walk, leaving me far away.Wandering, lonely, confused, walking in an unknown direction, I don't know the way forward.It could be a dead end, or it could be back to where it was.

I wanted to vent my emotions loudly, but I hid them under a calm face. It's not that I didn't think about giving up.But there is a responsibility to write that compels me to continue, and I cannot give up.Even if you hit your head badly.

If I really give up, then I really have nothing.

The world is not beautiful, there are only a few people who are successful and famous, but most people are ordinary people.I picked up the pen for several years. It is my half body and my other soul.Like a drowning man grabbing driftwood, this pen is what sets me apart from others. This pen is the only tool I use to describe my fantasies.

This is a road with no end in sight, but I can't turn back.

...]

Occasionally, it would be like this, gray emotions surged, wanting to be alone quietly, wanting to vent.

It sucks.

The black-haired man evaluates himself, the literati is both emotional and rational, and the split souls attack each other, trying to decide the winner.This way, without becoming schizophrenic, it is already very good.

A human soul, confused, cowardly, ugly, contradictory.The soul belonging to the sky, cold, ruthless, rational, and silent.

【…

If you hold this pen in your hand, you will be the creator of the world under the pen, asking in your heart, do you have the consciousness to bear the life and death of a person?Can you take on everything for yourself?

The more I think about it, the more afraid I become, and I feel panic and fear about the pen in my hand. I'm just an ordinary person, am I qualified?

This pen is Pandora's treasure box, which makes people unable to let go.

Let me ask, is it annoying to want to be recognized and appreciated by others?People talk about going forward indomitable, but at the same time they think about leaving a way out for themselves.

But what to do?In the end, even my own existence was questioned.Is it really interesting to live like this?Is it really satisfying to live like this?

Life is precious, everyone knows this sentence.Everyone is trying to live, no matter whether there is a goal or not.

However, in my opinion, death may be better than life.

No need to think so much, no need to worry about others, no need to be ridiculed, no need to care about others, no need to choose, no need to be afraid of the emptiness of a certain moment.

Death is not a shadow to be feared, but an eternal sleep. 】

Carefully put away the written paper, this kind of writing is like instigating others to commit suicide, implying death can't be seen by anyone.To live, one must be careful.The struggle between life and death is the beauty of the human soul.

Mr. Fumeng firmly believes that human beings are fragile yet strong beings.

"...becoming sentimental."

Fumeng smiled self-deprecatingly, the sky should not have its own feelings, the sky should be cold and rational, and would not be shaken by what it saw.However, he was once a human being, and the words he wrote did not reflect cold and rational things.

"You, have changed..."

A maid with mercury-colored hair and eyes of the same color stood behind the man.

The black-haired man looked at the scenery outside the window, laughing and playing and playing out of tune with him.His calm expression was almost divine, extremely cold.

"How much has it changed?"

The man's tone was extremely calm.It was hard for Crexby to say clearly, the person she had met had nothing of himself, that was the sky.However, although I feel that this is wrong intellectually, I feel that this is very good emotionally.

It was the first time for the confused Mercury Snake to think together with rationality and sensibility, and finally, she replied.

"No, I think that's fine with you."

【あなたが自分になってほしいです.あなたが私の王であるだけでなく, あなたが私のGuideであるからです.

I want you to be yourself, not only because you are my king, but also because you are my teacher. 】