“I was born a whale unsuited to touching sunlight, stranded on a shore of white sand called the human world. At a loss, I overthought everything and made trouble for myself. To me, this moment is the greatest desert of all.”
Chen Luo was sensitive by nature, and had been troubled by his surroundings since childhood. His environment forced him to pull his inner coat tight just to keep from getting hurt. His parents seemed not to notice this strange side of him. As they ignored any communication about his inner world, Chen Luo began to understand what was happening and slowly severed that bridge.
“The evening breeze runs aground at the alley's entrance, cocooned in the haze of moonlight.”
“What I received wasn't the pleasant answer I'd imagined, but a faint pull from my arm: an iris-purple force that tipped me off balance and led me into Van Gogh's night.”
Like so many people, he encountered a dazzling moment at an extracurricular class. Chen Luo and her story began in the winter of his third year of middle school. It was warm. But little by little, fate's fickleness drove them farther apart.
“Now I understand: don't resent those who leave you, and don't blame yourself for not having tried hard enough. If you look back on everything years later, you'll realize that even at the perfect beginning, you could already see the shadow of tragedy. The whole thing unfolded as naturally as fate itself, moving gently toward its end.”
That spring in his third year of middle school was cold.
Chen Luo gradually came to understand his friendships, too: “The more someone thinks they understand me, the farther away they really are.” As a child, he confided in his family; as he grew older, he turned to friends, and later to love. But now, none of those paths seemed open to him. Slowly, he fell into depression, began giving up on himself, let himself sink, grew tired of the light, and turned toward darkness. He was sad, but no one understood. He was cold, and everyone despised him. He stumbled onward until he reached the sorrowful end of his own life...
“Everything in this world is just a dim, sour light, keeping one another warm. In the end, all things inevitably return to the silent, desolate waters called death. Nothing can exist alone. This is the gentle force that brings every path to the same destination.”
Sensitive people are always fragile. This is a life shattered into pieces.
Theme: A record
