Tue, jan10.
The fridge is frozen. Three floors. Two floors. The ground is dirty.
I'll clean every freezer, lift it out one by one, wash it with hot water, remove the ice. Then press back and at the same time clean the ground.
It is indeed an easy thing to feel, to clean the surroundings, to cook for themselves on time and to wash dishes.
I used to hardly touch housework, but it did not mean that when I was with a friend, I deliberately avoided my part of the responsibility (just because I was not very good at these routines, so I might occasionally get misunderstood). Those who lived at a friend's house a few days ago accused me of all kinds of life's vices, of talking about it, and of being unbelievable about my coarseness. I listened to her saying that Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha was laughing for half a day, and that was what I saw in others.
It depends, of course, on how tight and anxious I am. Always staring at the unknown areas in front of us, chasing things that can't be touched at all.
And today, you brushed the circle of friends and saw a video called, "No one really drinks proper milk these days." The talk show actor stressed in the video that we just need milk from our breast milk.
Another video was seen, about one of the masters found a boar on the hill, then fed it to his age and became his ride, in the city (which appears to be Korea), a wonder of the city at that time.
Friends also talked to me about the new cultural movement, the national breast-milk movement, which seemed to be a female liberation movement, but the male and government perspectives were never really with the women themselves, they were concerned with the health of the next generation, and they only linked the women ' s breasts to the fate of their children.
It was always the adults who said that history was repetitive, that I did not understand, and that all that was available was slowly responding to what adults said.
The pig rider was recorded, the video was published, the news became news, and there was traffic. It's become the people who work in cars, who pass on their laughs.
Zhou Xing thought he was filming tragedy, but everyone thought he was making comedy.
There were too many people with culture and most people with culture used culture, and she/he knew how to wrap herself up and sell it as a product.
When I was in the car at night, the same table suddenly sent me a message. The phrase is: "Today we've been running a company for years and I'm going home for a blind date, and the boss's wife is joking about making us run hard, so don't miss it. All of a sudden I feel like everybody's good, and I look at them like I'm good, and I'm good at taking care of people. In fact, I think my future husband must be a more caring man who will take care of me. I find that many of the boys today are married to a mind wife to take care of him."
I'm at the same table as a stupid girl who doesn't have a heart, works hard, cooks good food. When I first entered college, I came across the so-called "culture," "art" and looked back. When I was at the table, I thought she was so stupid that she didn't know how to run herself, didn't think about the big things, did some boring technical work every day. She understands that I don't like to talk to her about gossip, gossip, gossip.
But lately everything has changed for me, and I happen to be sitting on the bus, wearing headphones, listening to songs when I'm at the table with her. She told me to call her on video. I can't talk. Then, in response to her lamentation, I recommended several books to her, including "Assured Girls". She told me that I kept all the screenshots you recommended, and I looked back.
She's always been, like me, a bad learner, but she's got an anonymous obsession with these "cultures". We all believe that there is something good in it, and that commitment is simple and pure from the very beginning. It's just that later, in the course of learning, it's really weird to be away.
But whenever I've been in touch with "feminine rights", or if I have a little interest in social journalism, graduate and undergraduate students, and when I say "males", I'm scolding them in a very angry manner, and I'm not as dumb as I am at the table, and I'm thinking, why isn't everybody doing this? Such a speech.
Stupid co-workers are really smart girls, and many dumb kids around are actually the smartest kids.
How do you tell stupid kids that you're not wrong? You are right to think about the meaning of life. You care about the students around you. You are right to ask some of the original questions. All the questions you ask are the most controversial in the academic world. It's like Boyce asked, "What is art?" The problem at its most basic source is that others are afraid to ask because they are afraid to be considered - too stupid.
The more sophisticated those people, or those who talk about a bunch of theories, you think she/he is so bright and unusual, but it's not, it's just a cocoon. Business logic is to squeeze milk out of a breast milk, to tear it apart into an unusual package, and to drown the milk from the breast milk, with the pre-eminence of the slogans of the eyeballs, the best packaging, and the milk from the breast milk.
2020 11 21
I've always been confused, and I've been dealing with almost all people, all things, and I've had a vision of mistrust and disgust. I'm in pain.
I rarely look at myself like this, and I feel like I've been holding back my secrets, or I've been choosing to ignore them, and I feel like I've been unleashing evil to hide the void inside.
I don't like China, and I think it's a hypocritical and selfish people, and I think people in this country are a bunch of people, and I think people in this country are laughing.
11 27
People are numb. The longer they live, the more numb.
To resist this numbness, but at the same time, it can't be too rational. People
We have to balance science with emotion.
I still have my soul today because my soul is in conflict.
Every time I remind myself what this work is saying, I should remind myself of what it means in purely aesthetic terms.
Life for a moment is life.
11 28
I thought about it. There's something to record.
Is that why I'm chasing these things?
If I could hear it sooner, an intellectual said to me that it wasn't your fault.
I think I'll suffer less for years.
I want the future.
Every single social exclusion.
There's another chance to meet someone.
Tell him.
Your deviation is not your fault.
It's the environmental excesses around you.
You can talk about yourself.
Your life doesn't have to be a 100-cent response.
Four o'clock in the morning. I'm looking at Schindler's list.
I touched my soul.
I want to write a book.
Or be someone who can comfort others.
I'd like to pretend to be someone else.
I want to be
It helps people who are confused.
A solution.
Tell them why they're confused.
Why do you want to write?
Maybe it's because you can't find anything but writing.
Just -- writing seems like the only way to live.
It's not really as attractive to write as it is to be touched by writing, which may be an expression of desire. I'm just used to burying myself in a corner, and I want people to know that there's a girl here who's got a record and a statement that she's not very happy with her life, that she's got a stronger bad feeling for people, and that she's got a better sense of common sense - of course, to a large extent, she wants to be understood by someone else.
She's really emotional. She can't look herself in the eye many times. She's like a volcano. She's also shuddering in the dark.
She dreams at night. It's a lonely dream. It's an endless dream that allows her to awaken her breath after she's forced to cry. She's always thinking about the same thing about other people. Still waking up like nothing happened the next day?
Obviously, it's a time when most people are well-equipped, but mentally weak. The teacher of online literature once said, "What can we do about this age that was left to us?" I'm a person who doesn't remember what people say, but the teacher's words remain clear in my mind. He seems to be more oblivious to the self-talking writers in the pyramids, who describe the time we have spent as worthless, and the leisure that we should spend outside our work in the language of popular and entertaining desire. And the perfect love and life in the novel is not worth thinking about, as if all those who know the "real world" were mature.
Ideasists have become a joke in the eyes of many, and most rationalists have become gossip after dinner.
Happiness is an easy and most difficult universal goal, and everyone is lost on the journey to happiness. Many times including me.
Why do you want to write?
After all this nonsense, there's talk coming back. Writing is an ordeal, and words are like constipation when they don't hatch; it's in a bad mood, it's in a bad brain, it's in a bad stomach. It hatches and diarrhea, it pulls too fast, it's not satisfied, it's afraid and it's gonna hurt again.
But writing, because it's hard, it's hard to write, it's hard to remember, and it's kind of a desire to be able to leave something in the world when it's written in.
Of course, the world is generating thousands of my bullshit every day, like most people, and I leave my words here, and I go on and on and on, and I don't know how quickly the time spent is swallowed up, like the ink that drops into the sea.
It's just a few words, almost a thousand words, and it's late at night.
Focusing on every flat, tedious stereospace, focusing on the re-assembly of space and materials, with violent and mysterious music through wild-fingered notes, determined to make every naked white wall crack into its own poetry in miracles. Every block here will be reawakened, with memories and desires like every living person. Here's the stereo and space hysteria, the heart door of the drumming space is not closed, and hidden symbol memory is transformed from tomorrow into a popular drink.