Mr. Floating Dream just wants to write

When I came to an amusement park, I didn't go to the facilities at all, but stayed in the room instead. Although this behavior is a bit strange, it is not a strange thing, after all, everyone has his choice.

Mr. Floating Dream sat in front of the table, and there was an open notebook on it, with some scattered things written on it.

According to normal times, the man must have a pen in his hand and leave a few words on the paper, but he didn't.He flipped through the book, starting from the first page, slowly, as if trying to recall his former self.

Human memory cannot be trusted.It is precisely because of this that some people will record their own experiences, including those feelings and memories. It seems that as long as this is the case, they can keep themselves at that time.Are you kidding yourself?Not really.People are doomed to die from birth, time is a one-way street of no return, only a little memory can remember the past.However, more memories were forgotten.

He has entered the sea of ​​memories, and seen those gorgeous memories, which are as vast and beautiful as the sea of ​​stars. Every person has a memory, and how many people are there in this world?Dreams, memories, time, these constitute a great and magnificent epic, which belongs to the world alone.There is no one else who can read them but the world.But he is not afraid, whether it is reading or being read.

For others, everything about him may be colorful and magnificent, but for him, it is just monotonous and boring.Like rootless duckweed, how can a family understand rootless water.How many people can't find the word home?

Free in the world, floating life is but a feather, so light that it cannot cause a wave.

【…

I have never experienced that color again, and I have never heard that voice again. It seems that everything has gone away from me. When I look back, I suddenly realize that I am already out of place.

This is not where I belong, I have long since lost my home.

Perhaps as early as many years ago, I knew in my heart that since I have nowhere to go, let's wander around there.

After all, it won't be any worse than it is now.

...]

The black-haired man looked at the smudged ink on the paper, his golden eyes seemed to be lost in thought, or some kind of inexplicable emotion.Rarely, he stared at the words he had written in a daze, his amber-like pupils couldn't find the focus, and he seemed to be wandering in an unknown world.

After an unknown amount of time, Mr. Floating Dream blinked lightly, and then turned to the next page.

As far as he himself is concerned, he is actually not a very patient person, and the inspiration in his mind always comes suddenly. Being able to leave a few words is already a great fate, but he has no memory of more things up.He is also unwilling to go to the sea of ​​memory, to find those memories that are like dandelion seeds, which can be blown away.After all, he is not a person with a limited lifespan. Time is eternally frozen on him. The gears of time will not turn a single bit. There is only one him in thousands of times. If he is always troubled by the memories of the past, how can he walk through the long What about the years?

The notebook in his hand recorded a lot, maybe what happened at that time, maybe some mood, or some strange knowledge, chatting about everything.If it is miscellaneous notes, it is too fragmentary and vague, so it can only be regarded as random notes written by the master.

It is absolutely impossible for such a thing to be published as a book.

The man closed his eyes, and the building built in the deep sea appeared in front of him again.

The boy was holding a book in a strange language, obviously immersed in the content of the book.

The voice next to my ear chattered endlessly, "Don't you feel bored when you always read books? Why don't you write something? The author of the book in your hand wrote this book because he couldn't bear it. Even he Okay, why can't you?"

Boy Shi Yu turned a page and ignored the voice.The voice was still unyielding, "Shiyu—Xiaoyu—just take care of me." Finally, the boy snorted, as if he had agreed to the voice's request, and ignored it.

The voice froze for a while, and then spoke again, as if the boy would never stop until he tried to write something.

Shiyu closed the book and raised his head, "Why, do you want me to write?" The voice disappeared, and after a few breaths, he resumed speaking, "Xiaoyu, after reading so many books, you don't feel like you are a writer. , Is it very interesting to write a book that makes others read it with great admiration?" The young man glanced at the book in his hand, his tone was flat, without any ups and downs, "I don't think so. I'm not interested in other people." He believes that this is a personal issue.

There was some doubt in the tone of the voice, "But, are you reading too?" The young man looked at the book in his hand, "Indeed, but it has nothing to do with my not wanting to make my thoughts public." He blinked Blinking eyes, "Besides, people who write books need to be responsible to readers. But I am not the type who is willing to be responsible. If I write a book, I only care about my own happiness."

The voice was shocked by his words, and after a while, he said a little weakly: "Xiaoyu, do you have such a personality?"

Boy Shiyu blinked and smiled. He didn't deny his self. Rather, if he couldn't even maintain his self, he might as well be an unconscious object.Once, someone seemed to have commented on him like this. Although he looked ordinary and ordinary, he was self-rebellious in his bones.For such an evaluation, he can't deny it, but occasionally he will think about it.

What is going on in this world?

To shape everyone into the same thing is like a product produced on an assembly line in a factory, and the defective ones will be thrown away unceremoniously. There is only the unchanging truth that money comes first.

He hates that kind of life. In his opinion, it is better to die romantically than to live restrainedly.It doesn't matter if anyone remembers him, he doesn't need to care what other people think, as long as he does what he wants.

The boy jumped off the window sill, put the book back in his hand, and pulled out another book. Looking at the expression on his face, he didn't feel sleepy at all.Now he has seen seven or eight out of ten of the collections in the museum, which will definitely surprise other people when they see it.But neither he nor the voice felt anything strange at all.I'm afraid that these two guys have been away from this world for too long, and they have completely forgotten the standards of ordinary human beings.

Shi Yu pulled away the stool and sat down in front of the table. After he had arranged the books, he suddenly asked, "Is there any blank paper and pen here?" Hearing his inquiry, his voice immediately became energetic, "Yes, yes. Ah, of course." Then, two groups of blue light condensed on the table, just like the blue sea outside the window, sparkling, beautiful and dreamy.

The two balls of light slowly fell, and after they settled on the table, the halo gradually faded away, a pen, and a notebook, with dark blue skins, and patterns of whales and unknown buildings on them.The young man knew that it was the symbol of this library. It was located under the deep sea with whales swimming above it. Its name was the Deep Whale Library.

As for that voice, it is better to say it is the manager here than Sea God.It's just that the other party also manages the sea.From this point of view, he was almost the same as Seagod.

The voice was triumphant, "Well, this pen is for you, it can accompany you for a long time. As for this book, when you finish writing it, please keep it, and I will put it in a place where precious books are treasured. , others will not easily find out."

Accompanied by a somewhat noisy voice in his ear, the boy took the pen and wrote the first word.

......

Fumeng opened his eyes, and he was groping for the pen that he didn't know when he took it out. This pen has been with him for a long time. From the very beginning, until now, the pen gifted to him by a friend...

Now, to the end of the story.

The man's eyes seem to have penetrated thousands of years of time, from the past to the future, everything is captured in his eyes.All stories end, and all stories have an ending.

No one will understand this matter better than him.

Thinking about it now, maybe it was because of the unintentional actions at that time that I have everything I have today.Is he a writer?Yes.Is he an author?no.What he wrote was just what he thought.It is not something that can be read to the world. Those gorgeous, dream-like experiences have no way to tell others except as stories.But he himself does not need to tell others, he is always just his own author, and he will always write his own story.

He could see a sea of ​​blue and dark blue in front of him, and he could also hear the cries of whales in his ears.

Half the salary, the man sighed with a bit of a headache, "Since we said it, we must do it."

He reached out, picked up the pen, and wrote slowly on the last page of the book.

【…

Tourists are destined to have a way back, even if there is no place to return, it is a wonderful thing to have a traveling companion.

So, the journey continues.

No matter where I wander, I can always see the deep blue ultramarine and hear the ethereal whale cry.

This is, the last, the last. 】

At the last full stop, Mr. Fumeng, no, Mengsheng Shiyu smiled softly, like a hydrangea blooming in the drizzle, or a white magnolia. There is a beautiful dream hidden in the golden pupils. That was the world he had seen before, and it was also the words he had recorded. They floated and danced, shuttled through memory and time, together with those blessings, curses, joys, sorrows, hopes, and despairs.

Finally, he closed the book, and on the dark blue cover, whales shuttled through the building, singing one song after another.

But he knew that its mission had already been bent.

The beautiful blue color slowly overflowed from the book, Shigure watched it, watched it float up, and then disappeared in midair like a dream.But he knew that it went where it should go, obeying the agreement many years ago.

"But it must be done."

He rubbed the pen in his hand and put it back carefully.Then, he got up and walked outside, and saw a young man with light blond hair standing by the window.Half of the light fell on his face, and his light blue eyes shone with sparkle.Probably noticing the man's arrival, he turned his head and cast a questioning look.

Mengsheng Shiyu laughed, stepped forward and invited, "Shall we go to the sea together?"

The other party nodded lightly, and the two walked away from the light hand in hand.

A floating dream is not just a floating dream, but also because——

[Deep-sea dream of floating whales, traveler in the world. 】

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The author has something to say:

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There are still stories to write, but that's all for now.Because, although the story is over, everything is not over yet.

Thank you all for being here.

See you next time!

The full text is over~