Literary edition copy:
His love is a lonely and turbulent river. Calmness hides the storm, tranquility conceals the plunder.
He couldn't stand still and flowed in silence.
The stars fade away. He is noisy and knows nothing.
Pretentious copywriting:
Hui Wen sometimes feels like he is on a snow-capped mountain enjoying the solid ice, snow and jade and the unique pure skylight and cloud shadows tens of thousands of meters above the ground. Sometimes I feel like I am quietly watching the dark light like a beast in the extremely deep blue seabed. In fact, both of these postures are undesirable. They represent the rush and sudden silence of life. Perhaps, he is the abyss. At this singularity, there is an abyss that extends infinitely forward or digs downward. An abyss full of inexplicable hints. Maybe, he has sunk to the bottom of the abyss, oh no, no, this is not hell, this is just the abyss that he has completely blocked himself. He closed himself gently, allowing him to breathe but forbidding memories. Using his nude body to fascinate and seduce the abyss, he organizes a grand solitude. Keep swimming in the name of time, swimming to the other side of the soul. He even prided himself on his intelligence, but he just couldn't figure out one thing in the world: maybe he shouldn't think about it too much, but why did the tree people give up on him? He just wanted to enjoy the sunshine and rain with the floating golden daisies and live a happy life with the tree people.
A long-winded sentence: As a young man with pretensions to literature and art, I recommend listening to the second movement of Rachmaninov's Second Piano Concerto while reading the article.