what is love? In fact, I have always believed in the wonders of love. After all, I can still see and hear a lot of love. Love is love, a special feeling for a person, or not even a person, for which I am willing to give my all, and be tired of being together forever. What does the object of love have to do with? gender? height? appearance? character? family? income? Maybe it has nothing to do with everything, but this object of love has nothing to do with everything else, even if there are so many factors, because it is his, so it doesn't matter, it doesn't affect, it is this object that loves.
I've always thought of myself as an appearance society, maybe still. But if one day, I fell in love with someone, no matter whether it gradually turned into love because of their appearance, but even if they eventually disfigured or changed into another appearance, it should still be love, because this and that person I love seems to be Just his soul.
Suddenly I thought of a friend's brain hole article, the soul of a person is separated from the body, and the soul can be stored in the cloud, isn't it that the recognition is not so strong? Because there is no physical characteristics as a judgment. At that time, I thought it was very correct. The soul is invisible. How to judge which soul is your love? Now I don’t think that’s the case. Appearance can be changed, plastic surgery can be done, and the soul can be changed, but the soul is unique, why do you love, or what you love in the end is this person, this person’s soul.
Suddenly I thought of a man who once made me tempted, um, at the beginning, with various similar routines, a perfect soul appeared with a perfect person, so I finally fell in love. But gradually you will find that his soul is actually perfect? Imperfect, selfish and cowardly, and occasionally the real wretchedness flashes in the heart, everything is in the eyes, but because this is the person he loves, even if he sees these things and thinks about them, it still does not affect his love. And that's it, because all together make up this one I love. To love this kind of thing is really unique and wonderful. Even if it is expressed now, it is always incomprehensible.
And here comes another point, about men, about men with authority. What do they do when they find that their status has been shaken? Insult the enemy they think is and kill it. Is this the so-called straight male cancer? Every time I drink and chat with my dad, after he drinks too much, he always emphasizes one sentence, women must be strong, and the good times will not last long. In his eyes, it is the duty of a girl to eventually become a woman, to support her husband and teach her children. I'm not a biological child, so I can understand that he is not dotingly worried about his daughter's hard work in serving other men, but it seems that this is indeed what he thinks. Perhaps, if his biological daughter also tried her best to be stronger, would he feel proud? Let's not talk about this, in short, every time I hear, even if you are brave, you have to live a good life for a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, strong life, and you have to show him that this bet is made with him.
The night they murdered, it must have been fun. But for the rest of the people in that environment, it should be darkness. The dark ones think the sky will never light up, and the dark ones think the sky is about to collapse, so they will live in this darkness forever. To use a slightly brisk metaphor, when I was a child, I made a mistake on a topic and was disciplined by the teacher, thinking that the teacher would continue to discipline forever, never stop, and endure forever. So, seeing that it is finally dawn, you can breathe a sigh of relief, um, the murderer finally left, and finally did not continue to kill, and the teacher trained him back on the wrong topic. It's no big deal, it's such a small thing. For the darkness of that night, well, it will pass too. But when I look back, the pain in my heart will be reduced. But time is a wonderful thing. It hurts for a long time, and the number of times is more, the heart will be numb, and eventually it will be transformed into the hope of the rising sun. I just remember the warmth of my lover and try to live brightly.
It's just that the past will not come back. It's actually quite difficult to not recite the past, but it is something that has to be done.
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