C115 It's Not the Text

For some reason, a few more days, Whether or not there are readers in this book, I feel that there should be something I want to tell everyone here.

Perhaps as the author of this book, I am very incompetent, whether it is to everyone or just to them. Just for this book, I am very incompetent. No matter how you look at it, Anyway, I admit it.

Some people say that writing a book is like raising a child, but this is not true. Otherwise, I'm afraid that I will be charged with the crime of "the best irresponsible father. " Fortunately, Night Redemption did not really make a fuss like a child. Otherwise, I, who has always favored peace, would never have a peaceful day.

However, I agree with what he said. After all, he's right. I can't deny his value just because I don't want him to be telling the truth. In a way, I can't deny his value just because I don't want him to be telling the truth. Writing a book is indeed like raising a child because we put in so much effort. The amount of time, energy, and the amount of intelligence required to make a child grow up healthily to the age of eighteen is not much. Of course, I have never had a child before.

A person would think too much at night for no reason. People in the world would think so. That was why so many abusing poems had been passed down since the ancient times until now. Some people who could not sleep at night would call them over and hum twice. The ancient people seemed to have a simple purpose in doing anything. Therefore, it was very easy for them to succeed.

For the sake of these people who couldn't sleep, they even set up a special faction. The works of these people were mostly sentimental and unique.

I keep feeling that modern people can't do such a thing with love. It's not that people nowadays are cold and indifferent. It's just that there are too few people who are willing to put in so much effort to study this kind of thing. In the end, it was not worth it to be ridiculed in such a manner by people with ulterior motives. However, the ancient people did not have such scruples. Because they had nothing to do. In that era of transportation and communication technology, which could be said to be poor, they had nothing to do. They were eager for some people to write something different to play with. It could be seen that. . . Most of the ancient people were idle, and boredom could really make people progress.

They always heard people say, Once night came, inspiration would surge like a spring. Looks like I've also discovered. . . However, when he looked at the title of this chapter, he realized that his inspiration seemed to have been used in the wrong place. It turned out that he had unknowingly chatted so much with everyone. He might as well tell them about his insights from these past few days.

When a person walked on the road alone, it was inevitable that he would encounter many obstacles. The most unbearable part was the loneliness that came from the bottom of his heart. Once it calmed down. . . A huge sense of emptiness would surge over like a tidal wave, accompanied by the cold words of others. Sneering and contempt were not understood. There was no encouragement. Along with the passion from back then, that heart that was riddled with scars was also settled along with the passage of time.

He had walked with great difficulty along the path of faith, but in the end, he had ended up in such a state. He wanted to cry, but he could not. He wanted to laugh, but he could not. It turned out that in front of the cold reality. . . Humans were so small that they could make themselves feel sad.

Hu. When he wrote this, he couldn't help but sigh. Thinking about what he had experienced now, he couldn't help but sigh. It's really quite scary. But compared to the glory he was looking forward to, this bit of pain was nothing.

Well, it seemed that self-consolation was something that everyone would experience in their lives. . .

But he felt that what he said next made some sense:

Think about it, there seems to be more questions that are worth thinking about. People's multifarious nature determines a person's personality, which is also contradictory. On one hand, they always complain about the injustice of the world, but on the other hand, they actively look for ways to change something.

There were always people who said that faith could bring miracles, about miracles. I never thought about it. Deep down, I'm still a pessimistic person. It's really hard to convince myself to place my hopes on something intangible. Even though my thoughts have always been illusory, it doesn't mean that I'll accept them. Because what you like is often not real, just like a relationship. What you are obsessed with is probably the wonderful aura emitted from the other person's body in your feelings, and not the relationship itself.

When you understand this, you might understand what I said before. . . The reason why I said so much is because I want to tell you that I'm a person who won't easily believe in anything, but now what I want to tell you is. . . I believe in that miracle. Just because someone told me that miracle is called believing in myself, and now I. . . Believe in myself.

But what about you?

Do you believe in yourself?

Do you believe in me?

I don't need to know your answer, because I am a person who likes to immerse myself in fantasy and cannot extricate myself from it. In my fantasy, there is your answer, and that is a kind of positive desire to improve. I think you can guess that is also the answer I want to see the most.

There are always some words that I think about. I said it. But as he spoke, it was gone. Looking at the time, it was already past eleven o'clock. He advised his friends who were fated to see this chapter.

Staying up late hurt his body!

This was nonsense, but it was also the truth.

Alright, go to sleep.