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Written Casually by a Sleeping Person
Short Fiction睡着的人随口写的
Knight Under The Windmill
You are just too timid that you will feel sad because of other people's eyes. You must understand that you are not always right, but you do not need to be criticized. I am very small, but maybe others are not even small in my world. If you don't like to communicate with others, there is no need to envy others. Yes! If you don't like meaningless writing, then don't write. Whenever you want to write, just write. Envy is all that's left. No matter how beautiful the world is that doesn't belong to you, you won't even think about seeing it. At the age of eighteen, the adult world was attacking me crazily, and I was struck into silence. I understand what others don't like, and I just smile when I don't understand. The cage of reality kills idealists, but I no longer care about it. I leave and become indifferent. It doesn't matter if I kill others in my own world. Lonely, so indifferent, I just don't want myself to really die. I think about the meaning of time, and now I just live it every day and every week. Do you realize that time has passed by watching the passing of months and thinking about the passage of time? The life I want is one where ideals are eventually defeated by reality? The poor helpless child shouldn't be alive! The failed child is beaten by the ridicule of human nature, and the only way forward is death. Confrontation is just for survival, I don't want to explain it anymore. The pitiful reality that I looked down upon was being given meaning and beauty by others. I know the beauty of imagination, but I dare not touch it again.
You are just too timid that you will feel sad because of other people's eyes. You must understand that you are not always right, but you do not need to be criticized. I am very small, but maybe others are not even small in my world. If you don't like to communicate with others, there is no need to envy others. Yes! If you don't like meaningless writing, then don't write. Whenever you want to write, just write. Envy is all that's left. No matter how beautiful the world is that doesn't belong to you, you won't even think about seeing it. At the age of eighteen, the adult world was attacking me crazily, and I was struck into silence. I understand what others don't like, and I just smile when I don't understand. The cage of reality kills idealists, but I no longer care about it. I leave and become indifferent. It doesn't matter if I kill others in my own world. Lonely, so indifferent, I just don't want myself to really die. I think about the meaning of time, and now I just live it every day and every week. Do you realize that time has passed by watching the passing of months and thinking about the passage of time? The life I want is one where ideals are eventually defeated by reality? The poor helpless child shouldn't be alive! The failed child is beaten by the ridicule of human nature, and the only way forward is death. Confrontation is just for survival, I don't want to explain it anymore. The pitiful reality that I looked down upon was being given meaning and beauty by others. I know the beauty of imagination, but I dare not touch it again.

A Little Bit of Essay
Short Fiction半点随笔
Knight Under The Windmill
I often lie on the table and look out the window to feel this quiet time. I often walk on the road, look at the ground, and feel the emptiness of inaction under the beautiful clothes. When I think about the meaning of time, I often feel at a loss.
I often lie on the table and look out the window to feel this quiet time. I often walk on the road, look at the ground, and feel the emptiness of inaction under the beautiful clothes. When I think about the meaning of time, I often feel at a loss.