I feel that I have lived too cowardly and have not known what happiness is for too long. I know that I am defective in my heart. I am too ruthless, indifferent, and aloof. I see other people's world in colors, but the color of my own world is always so single. If I am not happy, I have forgotten the feeling of happiness, and growing up may not be a good thing.
Occasionally, I learn to numb myself, get a second of comfort, and then continue to suffer. I know that it is not just me who has the problem, but how many people are living soberly? I am so tired of living, and the sick self, looking at everything around me, has lost the ability to distinguish, hiding, hiding, hiding.
I have lost the ability to cry, I can't tell, I won't cry. Learn to smile hypocritically. If you say that I am innocent again, you will appear to be hypocritical, because I know that that self has gone far away and is no longer there. What is left for me? I grow up willfully, and everything has to pay a price. It may be nothing to you, but it is the whole world to me. I am confused, confused, confused in my incomplete world...