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I Watched Trisolaris on the Train, and the Train Carried My Years

Follow The Wind And Mediocrity

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My eyes have seen the silhouettes of all things, but I can't retain a single trace of the past. My ears heard the cold natural sound of curling, but I couldn't hear my mother calling my name for the first time. My memory retains some independent worlds in time, and only then can I remember the words of the Three-Body Problem: Give civilization to time, not time to civilization. My soul wants to escape the sea of suffering in the digital world, but I have to use my own pain to write all this... Put all this indescribable Give me the gift of this life. In this reincarnation, I will no longer miss you.