Workaholic

The clown frowned slightly, his red lips curled down in a grimace, well, he looked awful, it made him so unhappy.

The young man on the opposite side yelled at the top of his voice and found that it would only make him more painful, so he stopped, only lowered his head, and let out a rapid and painful sob.

He turned off the electricity, then opened the door and walked in, looking at the young man who was constantly twitching in his seat, he clicked his tongue regretfully.

The man lifted the young man's head and looked at the face with trembling lips. There was a thin layer of water vapor in the black pupils, and he looked at him full of hatred and irritability.

And the fear of death.

"Actually, I was wondering, what on earth made you, an ordinary person, come to this party?" The clown seemed to be talking to himself, "Curiosity? You don't look like you are here for curiosity." People who are happy to die, oh, yes, you have a purpose, to be a hero? Or a record?" The clown was amused by himself as he said, this is so stupid.

F-o-o-l (stupid)

He stared at Wang Chaohua's face for a while, and suddenly his pupils shrank, and he pulled out an excited and happy smile.

"w－wait－, wait, I thought of the reason why you make me unhappy..." The clown strode around the chair with a sharp and slender voice: "I hate the crying face the most, your previous expression That's fine, that fake smile, that's what people call it, looking at me with a kind of irritating insouciance and illusion."

The clown said affectionately: "mylittlebird, you look so annoying now." He seemed to conjure up a thin, small but extremely sharp scalpel from between his fingers.

In the slightly widened eyes of the opposite party, the man showed a distorted and weird smile.

"Let me draw you a smiley face."

"Sure," the clown laughed, "it won't hurt too much."

The black-haired young man stared at the shining silver blade and pressed it to his face, as if his blood had turned cold for a moment.

He suddenly became completely quiet, including his own mind.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Wang Chaohua said, his voice was as terrible as a broken bell, and his throat was so dry that he could smoke, but all of this had already happened.

"Behavior without the slightest meaning, you make me feel very disappointed." Wang Chaohua said: "I'm too lazy to scold you now, you are so boring."

The clown's knife drew a small bloodstain on the young man's face, and a few drops of bright red gushed out and gathered on the face, as if the paint had stained the portrait.

He was surprised to find that the young man in front of him looked at him with almost indifferent eyes, that kind of eyes that seemed to see rubbish on the side of the road that was not worth mentioning.

Because it is something of no value, that kind of indifferent eyes makes people feel that they are being underestimated, and appearing in a person who is powerless is being threatened.

"Hmm, I never do boring things." The clown laughed briefly in his nasal cavity.

"It's because you're so boring." The black-haired young man said: "Everything you do will only turn into a sense of powerless emptiness in the end. After the pleasure, there is nothing. Everything you do waits for the passage of time. Nothing will remain."

"In our three-dimensional world, no, to be precise, so far, for human beings, there is nothing more powerful than time. This power comes from the experience of people's life decisions. Everything you do is will be forgotten."

"After many years no one will remember your existence."

"You are aging, your body is slowly rotting, you have fallen into biochemical pools, and you have been infected with viruses, and these remaining problems are eroding your life bit by bit.

How fragile the human body is, you will get old, you will not be able to move forward, your mind will become less and less clear, you will become forgetful, you will become afraid, you are old.

No one will take care of you, new people rise up, step on your rotten bones and say goodbye to your era. "

The young man's voice was very soft, but surprisingly clear.

"What can you leave behind in this world? What changed your kitsch to this world?"

"No one can escape kitsch, the real divinity in the world is hard to find, obviously it doesn't exist in you, even those so-called Thor and evil gods..."

Wang Wanghua raised his eyes, his washed eyes looked very clear, but with a bit of mocking malice.

"Some things cannot be changed by manpower. Human beings are really weak, and you can't change anything in this world. Do you like to recall the past? Or go forward step by step, by a kind of sudden change that seems to belong to you Impulsivity? When you're standing here, are you really doing what you think you're doing?"

"Mr Clown," the black-haired youth moved his lips slightly: "The clown that belongs to Gotham."

"whatsyouself?"

You look down on me, and I look down on you.

Each other each other, you hot chicken.

The author has something to say: take a day off, happy Mid-Autumn Festival!

Thanks for Irrigation [Nutrient Solution]

1 bottle of berry, hug and kiss, thank you.