Mo Buxian is a paparazzi (?) And underground author (?) Who writes music and film reviews.
His parents named him "Bu Xin", hoping that he would not lose his ambition by playing with things, but they did not expect that his father's surname was Mo. All of this formed a double negative sentence.
He had an ex-boyfriend who became a celebrity.
He loves to catch his breath in the bathtub. Until the feeling of suffocation entered his throat, and the glass door was densely covered with mist. The feeling of dying reminded him of the sea during the summer of his senior year. That day he abandoned him, the waves attacked the fine sand, the seagulls on the beach competed for the bread, the face of his friend was hypothermic, and the face was surrounded by police cordon. The coldness disperses the reason, and the clear water and blood condense into night purple. It is indulgence, light conversation, and unforgettable regrets. Wants and dislikes are regrets.
Hope, what is it?
It must be that person, whose sunny smile makes him unable to open his eyes. His hot and shiny hair is like the morning glow, like the green leaves reflecting under the sun, and the color is flowing. The lights on the stage made him shine extremely brightly, and he sang the guitar to ten thousand people, but he always wanted that one and only, that unique preference.
In fact, he got it.
Meeting again six years later made my heart beat faster. I hope the wind is still thin and slanting, I hope the summer is still hot, I hope leaving will no longer bring about struggles.
Intention: I hope leaving will no longer bring about struggles.