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墨書 Inktalez
I can't accept the body.
I can't accept the familiar person lying there.
That kind of monster occupying the mind, moving his body.
I don't accept.
I can't accept.
Looking at that face,
I can't.
But my mom, I really don't like.
I know it's not her, precisely because I know.
So I didn't shoot, there's no way.
It's not as simple as the inner conflict of a novel character.
The gap between people, that face, I have no way.
Who is it.
That day, I had a dream.
In the dream, her photo got wet in the rain and became a mess.
The "ye" in "bi" can still be vaguely seen.
We always end up in big trouble because of some small things, we have to admit.
We discovered a spaceship from a hundred years ago, covered in rust. It bore some terrifying marks that were within reach. Some grotesque, fanged monsters stood motionless on it like sculptures. It was as if they were specimens.
This kind of scene.
A scene that is difficult to distinguish between memory and dream.
Appears in my mind.
Some are false, but the long scar on the arm is evidence of everything.
Those questions don't matter anymore, the current self is sitting here in despair. The light hanging on the wall, a meteorite.
Touching the genuine leather of your diary, the photos are laminated, holding hands between the pages.
That kind of feeling really makes people sad.
I always have a sense of being abandoned.
And I can't understand what I have ever possessed.
The old man always blames me for not calling him and says he misses me: "I'm not used to you being away all these years." This happens every year, so people who see each other every day won't miss each other.
I don't know, I don't feel anything.
We all overestimate the power of time, companionship has nothing to do with time.
Maybe I understand.
"Some people just suddenly appear to light up that part of your life, and then disappear."
This is too fake, like an NPC, too fake.
But now I have to understand.
I had no choice.
Brilliant flames erupted before my eyes, and the ship was blown to pieces.
At night, perhaps it was in a dream.
The scene before my eyes.
The aroma of fried rice downstairs, so fragrant.
That family...
I shouldn't have put the alcohol and water glasses together.
The fridge is filled with the smell of alcohol.
My patella hurts.
Lying on that iron bed, reminiscent of countless summers past. Lightly sniffing the scent of iron in the air.
Cool, with a hint of cold air.
The overwhelming emotion.
"Tell her I love her."
How could I say such a selfish thing before I die.
Do you want to be entangled like a fierce demon? Love is not about hurting. I want to forget this because I don't want to remember.
The noise of children in the distance, that's a school, a playground. It reminds me of my childhood, running around like that, under the scorching sun on the playground, with the sunset casting long shadows in the corner of my eye.
"I'm going to take a day off tomorrow."
"Why, is there something going on?"
As I said this, the landlady asked with concern. She was a chubby girl, very cute. "Because it's going to rain tomorrow, I'll fix the guitar while I'm at it."
"Oh! Can you play the guitar?"
"That was all last winter, many things went wrong in the winter, either by fate or by human hands."
She was right there at that time.
What's wrong with her,
She's here.
"Before you die, don't you have anything to say to her?"
"You don't understand why I have to be entangled with Fierce demon. I should disappear."
"Don't you want her?"
"All the time!"
"But precisely because of this, I should let go."
Staring at the veins in the palm, saying so.
In fact, it seems like I never really grasped anything.
"I have no tolerance for people I don't love, that's just how I am."
I don't feel regret, I just failed, not for lack of trying.
I don't regret.
You don't love me, do you, Dad?
Mom, you think I'm a bother.
My life can't be said to be absent from you, I shed so many tears in the past. Alone in the quiet house, smelling the scent of the pillow you slept on, and plenty of tissues. You insisted on leaving.
I know there's no way, it's too hot here, too hot.
People who are not guests, can't be said to be absent in the future. Having a child is not a gamble, parents are too hasty.
How could I blame you?
The people of a country that has been absent for a hundred years are suffering from a disease that has lasted for thousands of years. History is no longer important. What pains me now is the past and the future.
After all, this country will still have a great future, and everyone will head towards a better tomorrow.
This is the best!
The roots that grow from the heart will form a big tree.
I know it's never too late, and you can start at any time. But I am unwilling, courage? Will, determination. It's like an excuse, I don't understand, I don't know, but I don't deny it. That feeling of being hesitant. To live, or die.
"Are you going to become a homeless person then?!"
Dad yelled like that that day, and now I think he was right.
I admit that I need someone to accompany me, I have to admit that.
The smell of sausages in the air is so fragrant.
"I'll cook some sausages for you to take with you."
"No need."
After all, I had eaten my fill at that time, and I said so myself.
Am I a abandoned child?
I have lived to this day.
But after all, I have survived thanks to them. I keep having chaotic dreams, on and off. I think I should die, this is not something I can control. I'm scared.
I miss you,
I need you
I remember a rainy day in the bamboo forest before.
It seems that it's raining and snowing by the river.
The girl in the red dress leaps up and sways on the branches.
The world has changed its style again.
Your departure has left me deeply trapped, in this biting and endless mire.
"The summer birds fly and return with a chirp, while the autumn birds lean against my window and sigh."
Sunshine scatters on everyone's faces, raindrops pass over different umbrella handles.
If you are the moon in the sky, but the light in my little house is not on.
I think I should cherish the moon, but after all, the light in my little house is not on.
When I took the moon from your hands, I felt its coldness and brightness. But my small house couldn't contain the moon, so I realized I had to destroy it. I have to build a palace for you, like the ones in myths, to store it.
I cut down the cassia tree, and as I swung the first axe, I bathed in your cold light.
I severed the river, and as I raised the first sword, its edge reflected your gaze.
When I finished decorating and built the heavy gate, I heard the echoing hall.
When everything ends, I will offer the throne to you, but you are not by my side.
Your reflection in the river cannot be seen.
Your trace in the mirror cannot be touched.
Finally, I heard your call outside the door, anxiously searching for an exit,
But trapped within this wall.
I woke up,
I cry out,
I sit up in confusion.
"Where are you?"
And I forgot to put on the roof. When I looked up, I saw you again, so confident.
It turns out, it's just moonlight.
This so-called,
The gloomy palace always keeps its doors tightly closed.
But if you look closely,
A window is open.
From time to time, the wind blows in,
Raising the curtains like the sway of a beauty.
If
You look carefully
Directly above
From the lofty dome
The sunlight that shines down
Illuminates the ground
And the smiling faces lying on the ground
Finally shine brilliantly.
If you look closely at this silent corridor,
Always responding to your singing
This so-called,
Of course, if you wish.
If you smell sausages in the air, it smells so good.
The family downstairs,
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