Sometimes I fantasize that others look down on me. Under this assumption, I became very self-protective and irritable, just not expressing it directly, but instead it became more distorted. In the end, it's about looking down on yourself. I don't know who I am and why I live. Even though I know that every human being should have the responsibility to survive, in order to survive, I create a lot of fun for myself, and in order to survive, I do the screws on the post one by one. But I seem to be too lazy. I seem to be too lazy to even have a dream. Many people around have their own dreams that do not match their careers. Every time they spoke, their faces gleamed. But I don't seem to have. I don't seem to have any hobbies. Watching a movie may be the only one. In the past, I especially liked to lie down on the bed, do nothing on the sofa, and watch the popcorn movie I liked very much. But now, that would drive me crazy with self-blame, would make me lose my hair, and wouldn't be able to support my own weight. Rachel is not like this, she will hollow out all the thick books, dig out a delicate model. That's not the case with Greg and Earl, they'll make little movies that are crude and polished, weird but fun. I guess because of that, they have their own problems and Rachel will die young. But their lives are still warm and wonderful. Rachel is still as beautiful. Even if Greg didn't dare to integrate into the society, he was afraid that he would be stripped naked in front of the public, would be hurt wantonly, and he didn't dare to see other people's evaluation of him. Wow, that's not me. But Greg, you have something you love to do, your little secret, and even though you're afraid someone else will find out and ruin it, you're using it as an excuse to have a fight with Earl. But even so, you're still so handsome.
You're afraid of Rachel's departure, and you start to twist too. Words that don't make sense, hurt Rachel. I hope Rachel let you know how meaningful everything you do, you don't have to care what other people think, you know it makes sense.
A good story is not necessarily so beautiful at the beginning. There are so many things, both good and bad. Even it is made up of ugliness, but the remaining beauty makes you dare to go through the hardships and see the truth.
My weird self-esteem protection mechanism. My self-esteem is nowhere near as lovely as those things that are both right and wrong. Don't make me weirdly angry anymore.
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