It's a diary

good evening.

haven't seen you for a long time.

Long time no see, couldn’t sleep, clicked into wps.

I saw a lot of scrapped manuscripts with hundreds or dozens of words.

Many times I want to complete them, publish them, spread out my boring life like a book, and show it to people who want to see it.

However, I couldn't write any more.

Thoughts seem to be exhausted.

Am I still me?
Many times this question flashed through my mind in unintentional silence.

If I am not who I am, then who am I?

These questions are so brain-burning that I often feel sleepy even thinking about them, and even think about them until I get a headache and go crazy.I can't think of an answer either.

Then don’t think about it.

A good sleep might be enough.

good night.

This is what I say to myself many times.

Then I became more and more dependent on some drugs for a long time.

After taking too much medicine, people who are not sick seem to have become half dead wood.

I've been listening to pure music recently.

I like pure music, always have.

I was on the phone two nights ago and listened to my friend play one song after another on the guitar.

That feeling cannot be described.That's the feeling of mountain spring water flowing down the gravel in the mountains and falling drop by drop to the mossy ground.

From tiredness at the beginning, to adaptation, to exhaustion.

Occasionally during my break, I would stand downstairs and gaze at the green mountains in the distance, lost in thought.

I like it very much.

I hate this place so much, but I love this mountain so much.

There are many people and everyone is very busy.

Not to mention them, even me seems very busy.

Ugh.

life.

years.

It seems that slowly, I want to say less and less.Actually no, it’s just that I don’t know how to say it.

Did you grow up?
It’s not good to grow up.

A month has passed.

This month, every Sunday, I go to a new place.

I saw a lot of scenery.

I drank many cups of delicious milk tea and stepped on a big thunder.

Alas, I ate a particularly delicious pineapple bun at a bakery near the factory.

Then I never bought it again.

outrageous.

I wanted to try my luck today, but I still didn't buy it.I couldn’t even buy my favorite original toast bread.

Ugh.

want to go out and play.

He seems to be an adult.But at heart, he is still a child.

A greedy, playful and lazy child.

"Child."

"Like a child."

In fact, I also want to be a child.always.

Only children say forever.

Yes.

Everything is like this, everyone is working hard.

But I still don’t understand, and I’m even more confused.

why?

why?

what why?I have no idea.

I'm confused.

good night.

This time it’s a real “good night”.