be gentle [comprehensive]

Disgusting to death.

What I once craved became my most disgusting thing.

--I love you forever.

It's the most fucking disgusting thing ever.

I will always remember that day, I drank the medicine alone, lay on the bed, recalled everything in my mind, and waited for death alone.

But that moment of relief didn't last long. I was ready to face death, but death didn't accept me. I was kicked out alone.

It has become the appearance of today, who is clearly alive but no longer regards himself as a living person.

In the information that has been passively accepted, in the active concept, love is beautiful.

Although there will be jealousy, jealousy, and negative emotions, love can save a soul.

But ah

- It's disgusting.

Say you love me, keep pestering me, no matter how many times you say no, you will deliberately pretend to be stupid, and use it to make others think that I am angry, coquettish, and vexatious, and say "what's wrong with you?"

What's wrong with me?I was disgusted by him, it's you, why can't you die.

I don't like you, don't like, don't like, never, won't like you a little bit.

Why do you pester me as soon as we meet!

Why do you?Just because you think I'm easy to bully, can I be controlled by you?

It's so funny, a person who keeps saying I'm gentle has changed me from cheerful and gentle to depressed and anxious.

A person who keeps saying that he likes me forced me to barely maintain four hours of sleep every day.

My wings were broken, and the computer that had been working hard for several years was smashed in front of me.

I even thought maliciously, why don't you break my legs, goug out my eyes, and destroy my fingers. I can no longer move, talk, or think, so I am at your mercy?

Actually, no need at all.

My dream was broken, my hand has been destroyed, it seems to be recovering very well, are you happy, happy about your injury, you ruined my hand, you can erase it, you can Haunt me again, pester me to death, and then keep telling me that you love me.

—Your love really disgusts me.

My computer was destroyed, my personality became silent, I fell from the sky, and my feathers were blackened, you are happy.

You are very happy that you can pull me who has never liked you, who has been flying in the sky, to the ground and fall to my feet.

That's right, if I still have the strength to struggle, how can I be tied up by you, how can I be put in a cage by you, and show off as a trophy.

——It’s so disgusting, if it’s love, it’s really disgusting.

No respect, no rejection allowed, ugly to die for.

You are immersed in your own world, sitting on things you think are good, so you want me to cooperate with you in a performance?

Sorry, I'm dead.

I didn't die when I had a nervous breakdown, when I believed that I still had friends and readers waiting for me, when I believed that I still had unfulfilled dreams, that's when I met Cristiano Ronaldo.

When I was imprisoned, I did not die. Even if the communication was ineffective, I was stared at with only a little freedom. Everyone was persuading me to compromise, saying that I was wrong, but I still persisted.

boom!

Ruined.

Dark clouds covered my sunlight, black fragments splashed in front of my eyes, my dreams, my hard work, all of my things were worthless, they all became I didn’t know what to do, I was stupid in reading, and became Evidence of neurosis.

should i cry

After crying, I laughed.It's been a long time, and I haven't laughed so heartily.

It was obvious a long time ago that no matter what I do, how many things I do, how much effort I make, I will get nothing.

Do you really think that I am a fool, a fool who cannot see through the calculations in the eyes of those who deliberately approach me, and do you not know why they approach me?

So naive, neither them nor me.

It's disgusting, approaching with a goal in mind, liking with a goal in mind, doing something, leaving harm to others, can you pretend to be indifferent?

That's really sorry, I, my memory is very good, and I can't forget it even if I forget each other.

Don't use, "Anyway, your scar has healed and you can't see it anymore, just pretend you didn't find anything, let's make up." Come to me with words like this.

My white world has been dyed black by you.Even if I work hard and stand up with my own strength, and don't want to become as disgusting as you and die, I can't go back to the beginning.

But, don't worry, no matter what happens, even if I fall down again and again and become what you call a "knowing good and bad", I will not allow myself to be with you.

If one day, I become the same as you, the same disgusting, then—kill me.

There is no way to kill you, I can easily do it by simply killing myself.

Memory, emotion, get rid of to L, let him wash it away again and again, don't leave it to me.

Now watching you are still playing a play, I think I'm done, I've compromised, I'm really happy.

Sorry, I am dead.

Your deeds will no longer make me feel sad, even if there is, it will only be hatred.

I have slowly forgotten the words of the relatives who once loved so deeply, stood beside others, pointed at me, and scolded me.

Thanks to the existence of L, I don't have to clearly remember the hideous faces of those relatives, and I don't have to remember the so-called love that has entangled me in the name of loving me.

If there is still hope for hatred, then I choose to forget.

I will not have any emotions for you, whether it is sadness, love or despair.

I will not be touched by the love in his mouth or anything he does, because no matter what he does, he is the one who pulls me down from the sky and imprisons me.Sorry, candy whips don't work for me, and I'm not going to fall in love with someone who hurt me, got Stockholm Syndrome.

If the love I look forward to is mutual respect, then you obviously don't like it, it's not love, but you want to imprison a perverted person who doesn't like you, it really makes me sick.

Every breath of air you breathe is disgusting.

Every second of your existence is telling me how step by step you combined with other people I cared about to push me into a corner.

Those acting skills that didn't stop even when I was cornered.

The easy smiles of those who thought it was over.

The crimes of pretending to have found nothing and putting everything on me.

Really...

It really helped me recognize, recognize your appearance, and recognize your faces under the human skin.

So, depression is really not terrible. As long as you endure it carefully, you will find more interesting things.

For example, the people you care about, the relatives and friends you love, what are they thinking about you, do they think you should have died long ago, and should have been used as waste long ago.

Nah~ It's really fun to watch them.

The author has something to say: To be honest, the sequelae left by my right hand are no longer healed, so I don’t need to expect it to recover, and typing will probably be slower in the future.

Anyway, I'm used to it.

☆, depression

Every update means opening a wound for me.

For a long time, I always thought that under the care of the doctor and with the help of L, I could return to the relaxed, indifferent, not very warm but somewhat gentle me.

However, when that person appeared in front of me, I couldn't help accumulating a lot of hatred in my heart, hating that person and myself.

Fortunately, with a lot of previous experience, L has cleaned up my emotions a lot.

After tidying up, facing the person who pestered me no matter what, I really wanted to stab him to death.

I lost a lot because of the other person, and that person obviously doesn't love me, but he just uses loving me as an excuse to coax everyone into believing, and everyone persuades me.In the days before, when I was betrayed by everyone, I would think why the floor where I was locked was so low. If it was higher, higher, it would be so high that I would jump down from it without hesitation and die instantly without pain Enough.

I am very afraid of pain.

But the floor is so low, it's so low that I didn't die even if I jumped down.

Why is the effect of the medicine so useless? After I took it, I didn't die.

It's disgusting, every touch makes me so sick I want to chop off my hand.

I swear, I cursed myself, if there is a parallel world, reincarnation, reincarnation, then no matter which one I am, as long as I have a little affection for that person, either he will die, or I will stop breathing immediately.

It's ridiculous, that person keeps saying that he loves me, but he doesn't do a single thing to comply. He says he likes me to be gentle, but it's because he thinks I'm burdened a lot. No matter how he refuses, he can persuade the people around me to target me.

Ridiculous, disgusting.

I drank the medicine in front of him, and the other person just watched me take it for a while and left, oh, this is what that person said about loving me.

Hahahahaha

I feel like I'm going crazy, no matter how hard I try, I can't get back to the old me.In the past, I was forced to die by that person and the people led by that person.

Hahahaha

Why am I still alive when I should have died, why is that person still not dead, but still pestering me.

My hands were ruined by that person, and my dream was also destroyed by his so-called doing good for me. Didn't that person say he loved me, didn't he owe me abuse, so why didn't he die?

To die to die to die to die.

It's disgusting, don't deceive me with hypocrisy, when I am a three-year-old child, do you mean what you say?

No matter whether I like men, women, or even asexual, I will not like that person.

If you use the words in the novel, that person is the person in the novel who is self-righteous in liking a certain person, who feels heaven-shattering when he consciously likes him, who is not good for the other party, and will fall in love with him as long as he is entangled with the other party.

I'm sorry, I don't owe abuse, and I don't want to abuse others, and I don't like people who destroy everything about me and pay back for my good.

It's like a person broke another person's leg and said to him, "Don't thank me, I'm afraid you will encounter an accident when you go out. Now that you have a broken leg, I don't have to worry about you encountering an accident."

If you question him, he will say, "I'm worried about you, for your own good."

Don't think that this kind of person won't exist, I just met this kind of top quality, this kind of disgusting thing.

Any idea why my updates are unstable for a long time?Because someone thinks that for my own good, I can't stay in the house and play on the computer or touch the phone.

I really can't bear this kind of way that is good for me, it's so disgusting.

If it is really good for me, please get that person out of my sight, out of my world, life and death, life and death have nothing to do with me, and will never be involved in the slightest, otherwise I am really afraid of that I couldn't bear it for a day, and I couldn't get him to kill myself.

****

Thanks to the doctor, thanks to the doctor who has been with me and I have known for a long time, I don’t want to say the doctor’s name.

Before, that person, that is, the stimulus source, did not appear, which made me feel much better. With the help of L, I delusionally thought that my depression was gone.

But I seem to be wrong.

To be honest, I originally wanted to write a few chapters with a positive, optimistic and happy mood, so I ended this mess, and told those who read what I wrote, they should be optimistic and so on.

However, if the stimulus does not appear, I will always recover slowly, but when the other party appears, I really can't help it...

I have known the doctor for a long time, and it can be said that my emotional control has always relied on the help of the doctor and L.People who have never fallen into depression may not understand the helplessness and powerlessness. Several times, I couldn't help but went to the doctor for help, asking L to deprive me of my emotions and memories.

If I’m lucky, I have L and a doctor. If I’m unlucky, I was accompanied by severe anxiety at the same time as depression, so anxious that I couldn’t help but want to get rid of those darkness completely.

Thoroughly, the kind that no longer opens your eyes to see...

Now, after a long time, I want to start a new article, I want to write a novel, but every time I find that I seem to be a bit unable to do it.

The feeling of being ridiculed, ridiculed, self-esteem, and confidence being stepped on by the person you love, the person you care about, and relegated to the dust still bothers me.

I once jokingly wrote in space that the cruelest thing the doctor has done to me so far is to keep me alive.

Doctors always like to tell me that you just need to live.

I think so too, I want to live too, and I want to work hard to live, but when you fall into the darkness and can't find a way out, and you are betrayed by everyone around you, you really can't control it, doctor.

Doctor, my hands hurt very much, as if my heart has been ripped out, and my chest is empty.

If my destiny is to be lonely, then don’t let such a person pester me, I really didn’t feel the respect from the other party, but ruined a lot of things in me, including my once precious hand, and now I’m missing The eyes were not destroyed.

The scars on my hands have not faded, and the wounds from falling have not healed. It is impossible to heal.

My soul has become hollow, and one day it will disappear.

If this is the purpose of that person pestering me, I only hope that he can never have the slightest intersection with me, whether I live or die.

If I die, apart from accidents and being killed, it can only be that I am so disgusted that I can't live anymore, I am driven crazy, put down everything, and get rid of it.

Anyway...

It's been done.

So, no matter who you are, if you are not my enemy, don't learn from me.

After all, I am a dead man and you are not.

☆, depression

"It's your turn to buy a ticket."

Someone pushed me from behind.

I froze for a while, bought a ticket to an unknown destination in a daze, and embarked on an unknown journey.

The train departed smoothly, and I took a seat by the window, when a masked person was made across from me.

Curious in my heart, but I didn't open my mouth to ask people's privacy.

"Where are you going?" The person on the opposite side took the initiative to greet me.

After pondering for a moment, I replied, "The end."

In fact, I didn't know where the train I got on was going, and what was the destination, but somehow I seemed to be under a spell, and I believed that my destination was the terminal of the train.

"What a coincidence." She touched the purple mask on her face and said.

The person on the opposite side, the mask she wears is not surprising, it is easy to buy in every place where children's toys are bought in a lively market, but few people go out wearing a mask.

With my hand on my chin, I turned my face and looked out the window. The train was running smoothly, and the carriage was very quiet. The masked person on the opposite side stopped talking, so I had to focus on the scenery outside the window and on myself. mind.

I don't know how long it took, "The train is about to stop." The masked man said suddenly.

I was taken aback, "Is it the end?" I asked suspiciously.

"No." The masked man answered me, "It's just reached a point, and it's still far from the end."

Hearing this, I thanked him and continued to be in a daze.

Sure enough, within 2 minutes, the train stopped just as the masked man said.

The masked man stood up, turned around without saying hello, and left the car with his back to me.

I sat there blankly, looking around, the moment the masked man stepped out of the carriage, the scenery in the carriage changed instantly...

"What do you think is the most important thing?"

A familiar voice rang in my ear, I raised my head and saw a scene of surprise.

It was a person exactly like me, she was full of loneliness and depression, her young face was full of exhaustion, as if something had bent her straight back, she looked at me in confusion and hesitation.

"the most important……"

I looked at her and couldn't speak, it was such a complicated feeling to be with someone who was exactly like me.

"I don't want to live anymore," she said to me. "I lost what I had, what I cared about, and what I believed in."

I pursed my lips, her words were too familiar, because this was what I thought and said in my heart half a year ago, a year ago.

I seem to know who she is, and the dress she is wearing is too familiar. It is the one I like that I haven't discarded half a year ago.

So, she is me, she is me at least half a year ago.

"I don't know, maybe it's freedom, maybe it's a dream, maybe it's love."

I answered her like this, and I couldn't say any perfunctory words when I met the eyes of the pool of stagnant water, "The most important thing is to live first."

She looked at me and didn't say a word. A thick fog came and disappeared.

I was at a loss, but I saw that the masked person came back at some time, maybe because the masked person was the only person who talked to me here, an impulse made me tell her what I encountered.

The masked person listened to me and believed what I said without hesitation. She said: "This is a time train, and every node will encounter the past time that you care about."

"What about the end point? What is the end point?" I asked her hastily.

The masked man touched the mask on his face and replied: "The end, of course the end is the last moment of life."

"Maybe you will be old by then, and your sons and daughters will live happily; maybe the train has not reached the end, and you have already gone to a certain node as the end; the end, there are too many choices, who knows what it is except yourself?"

The masked man stopped talking and fell into silence.

I seem to understand the hidden meaning of the mask man's words, and I have a vague expectation in my heart, thinking about what kind of me I will meet at the next node?

The next node came very quickly, and it was a bit beyond my expectation.

I thought that I would meet the me who was two years ago or a year and a half ago, but the one who came to me was unexpected...

"For me, there's nothing too confusing."

Three or four years ago, I stood in front of me confidently. She had radiant eyes and a smile on her lips, "Even if I care about the past, there is no way to change it. At most, a few words will cause me regret. That’s all. For me, the most important thing is, of course, to seize the present and improve my life so that I can live a happy life in the future.”

She said all this with sincerity and sincerity. At this time, she believed that as long as she worked hard, she would be able to gain something, and she did work hard as she said.

At this time, she still doesn't know what people who care about will say in the future because of too much effort.

"Stop writing, do you think you have gained anything? Why don't you get married and have children earlier?"

"Knowing that I don't have any achievements, why don't you change your career to other things, hobbies, likes, what's the use of your liking..."

"Because the code word hurts the leg, it's too stupid..."

"..."

The swarms of memories flooded me, all kinds of irony, sarcasm or complete explanations, swaying in my ears, those things that I thought I didn’t care about, still linger around me deeply, deeply, Never faded.

Because I can't understand, no matter what I do, good or bad, those gossips, those flattery, ridicule, those things that are true or false, or whim, will not die with my compromise... …

What they want is to break my back, blind my eyes, break my hands, watch me... fall into the dust, fall into madness, and then say in pity, pity, "Look at what she asked for .”

"Do you know L?" I asked her.

"You shouldn't ask me." She answered me, "The person who can answer your question is at the next node."

The train moved on and she disappeared too.

Who will I meet at the next node? Where is he waiting for me?

It's strange, why do I have to think about these things, don't I want to be a dead salted fish?

I'm still waiting, I'm still going on, I'm still thinking, looking out the window and thinking silently, thinking silently and alone.

☆, narrative narrative

There was a little girl, her mother and father went out to work, and they left her in their hometown to take care of her grandparents with peace of mind.

The little girl was five or six years old, and she was crying four or five days out of seven.

"Don't cry, what are you crying for?"

People passing by the little girl's grandmother's house often heard her yelling like this, occasionally mixed with her grandfather's words, "What's there to cry, try crying again..."

Then, there were occasional bangs.

Occasionally passers-by, when they heard the nagging voice of the grandmother and the crying of the little girl, they only thought that the little girl was naughty, and the grandparents educated her.

This little girl is not me, but I have seen her several times and know her situation.

Sometimes, when I hear the little girl crying, I wonder, if the little girl's trusting mother knows about it, will she think that the little girl's grandma and grandpa are right in educating her, or does she feel sorry for the crying daughter?

"Don't cry, cry again and get beaten."

"Why are you beating her? The more you beat her, the more she will cry?"

This is the word I hear most when little girls cry.

The little girl is not very big, and no one asked her how she felt or how she felt. Crying became her only channel to vent her emotions.

"I want to go home..." The little girl wiped her tears and wanted to leave.

"Where to sit. Where to sit!!" It was this sentence that responded to her.

……

I didn't think so when I was very young, because I saw too much, and no one said it was right or wrong.So, I silently witnessed a lot.

There are many, not few, situations like the little girl, and even every few days, before the little girl grows up, or before going to school, as long as she lives with her grandma and grandpa, it will definitely happen again.

At the beginning, I will be touched, but after a long time, I will feel distressed. After a long time, no one can say whether I will get used to it or become numb.

Numbness, habit, what a terrible thing!Like a chronic virus, the poisoning has become deep before you know it, and you will die from the poison.

I remember, once before.

I heard the little girl cry and say, "Give me a dollar."

I don't want to repeat what her grandma said. The old man may have old people's ideas, and she has what she thinks is right in her eyes.

I only heard the little girl crying and saying, "My mother gave it to you, why can't I take it anymore."

After that, there was a long period of repetition, repeating a sentence of familiar words, which was already familiar to me, enough for every child who had the same experience to memorize it, and forget it in a few years, ten years, or even decades If not dropped.

After about an hour or so, the little girl's voice became weak, and I couldn't hear her cry anymore.

Perhaps, after crying for a long time, she finally got the dollar she wanted.

Maybe, she waited for more than an hour, and she still didn't get what she needed.

That's what belongs to her...

In a few years, the little girl will grow up like every growing child. What happened now may have long been forgotten in her memory, or what happened may not be worth remembering at all.

At that time, all she remembered was that when her parents were away, she grew up with her grandparents...

All she remembered was that she had grown up peacefully.Her character may be cheerful, maybe introverted, maybe she loves to cry, maybe she hates tears...etc, that's her life.

If she grows up, she still remembers that when Qingmao casually mentions childhood memories, there are only a few results at most.

"You remember wrongly, how can I treat you so well..." or "You were so naughty when you were young, don't you think that's how other people's families are educated..." and so on.

****

Maybe it's growing up, maybe it's being urged to start thinking about adulthood.

I am also a little girl thing, without any meaning of criticism or education, etc., I am just a little melancholy.

No matter how deeply you remember the events of your childhood, it is still not enough for the adults in the family to say, "You remember wrongly, when did it happen, why don't I know..."

If you firmly believe and remember, you will be shaken, and you will even doubt your own existence unconsciously.

do i really existSince so many childhood memories in my memory are false, does that mean that my existence can also be denied?

Even the memory may be fabricated by me. The people I met, my classmates, my friends, my relatives, my lover, are they all fake, are they all fabricated by me?

Psychologically speaking, human beings have the ability to fabricate and tamper with past memories.

If, when what you believe to be true is denied many, many times, then there is nothing wrong with doubting your own existence, the existence of your family, or the existence of the world.

Education is the problem of educators; psychology is the research direction of psychologists.

These are not for me to think about for the time being, and I just need to walk in my own world gently and quietly.

Someone said to me, "Are you a pessimist?" He felt that I always like to think the worst.

I thought for a while and answered him, "I used to be an optimist, and I was always told that I thought too well and was too naive; now, you say that I am a pessimist, but I have to admit, yes, that's right. "

**

Since it is said that this chapter is about childhood, let’s talk about childhood.

When I was young, I had keen senses and liked to observe silently. Sometimes I saw things that I didn’t understand, and I would write them down. In my own words, “Leave the problem to the future self to solve.” Therefore, I saw something .

I can't understand everyone's childhood, beautiful, rotten, happy, broken and so on.

However, I have seen people who are arrogant, arrogant and scheming, because they invited friends to their home, but they were denied by the family, and ran all the way back to school crying.

I have also seen people who are sunny, cheerful and popular on the surface, secretly spreading rumors that they have known her for a long time and regard her as a good friend.

I have seen a pair of siblings who stole things from the owner's house. After being caught by the owner in the yard, the sister said, "It belongs to my family, I took it from our house."

The younger brother said, "I found this on your land."

I have seen that the money of B’s family was stolen by C. After hating C for a few days, she not only did not ask C to get the money back, but abandoned her former friend and stole C and became good friends. After that, the family I don't blame her for being stolen by C a few times.

I have seen people who have only met once because of jealousy.

I have seen someone who was courteous to someone who had never met him before, and when the other party asked who he was, he turned his face and said that he was ruthless and unjust, and he had been against the other party for several years.

I have seen……

wait wait wait.

It is said that the theme of this chapter is childhood, the past when I was young, and what I wrote is not very old, most of them are what people encountered and happened before the age of 15.

Many things, we all think that as we grow up, some scars have healed.But occasionally I inadvertently see the same past events, and I feel empathy quietly without knowing it.

Healing is in the eyes of outsiders.

Even if others have forgotten, the only person who really feels that the wound has healed is himself.

Does it hurt?

.

.

.

I do not know.

May your childhood not be covered by shadows.

☆, end chapter

This chapter, the last chapter, will talk about the so-called love.

Not long ago, a gray-haired couple had another quarrel. I was very close and could hear it clearly.

The old man said: "Go away, leave my house."

The old lady said, "Who are you telling me to get out? This house was built for me by my son, so it's time for you to go."

The old man said: "You are the only person with a foreign surname in this family."

……

It was not the first time they had quarreled, but every time they quarreled, the old man would say a similar sentence, to the effect that 'everyone in this family has the same surname except you', this kind of words.

If it's a quarrel, it's no big deal to say these things, even couples and relatives who are not husband and wife may say something out of their mouths when they quarrel.

As far as I know, when they quarreled, it was the worst time.

The old man said to the old lady, "Why don't you die."

"If you die, you will die. This is my house."

What is the taste of love, everyone has their own answer in mind.

*****

I don’t want to write or talk about the last chapter. The copywriter said that this is not a novel. Maybe it contains all the stories I have written in the past and the present.

Anyway, it's time to end it.

Maybe one day, in order not to worry the person I like, I will secretly modify it; the bigger possibility is that I can't bear to leave this dark history behind and change it quietly, it doesn't matter...

After 3 words are enough in this way, it is time for us to end.

Goodbye to the past, goodbye to the messy life, and goodbye to myself.

The last sentence, don't force me, okay, the extreme road is not easy to walk, and I don't want to walk on that road.

Let me live quietly at home, with a book, a cup of tea, and a partner, and I am satisfied.

L took me for a long, long way, my feet hurt from walking, and I could only walk secretly. Sometimes I feel a little envious when I see others being carried on their backs.Looking at his back, firmly pulling my hand to move forward, I can only choose to remain silent.

Sometimes, I don't quite understand either.It's obviously so painful, and it's easy to end, but both he and I are still trying to take a step forward.Maybe it's reconciliation, reluctance to leave before the destined person arrives...

Am i right? L.