He feels that thought is a monster, and you'd better not provoke it. The only way is to put it in a cage until it is forgotten.
The thin and silent young man put his pocket in his pocket and walked through the slow traffic. It seemed like the beginning of a sad literary film. There were no lines and no collisions. It was just an undercurrent quietly flowing through everyone's heart, like a grand performance opening with silent fireworks.
He put his hand on his heart and smiled. This is empty, this must be empty