At the end of the story, they still found the moment when the original met each other.
The exchange painted in black and white and the gorgeous manor bathed in sunlight represent two completely different values, and no matter how long you are indulging in one of them, you will be unable to extricate yourself. This starts from the original direction, and I don't think it has anything to do with the choice of life. Because there is no difference between good and bad, it doesn't matter if you are addicted to anyone, it only depends on where you can find your happiness.
And I'm still leaning towards the latter. The simple life, the little tunes humming when watering the vineyard, the tennis round with my uncle in the corridor, the fragrance of ink, and the swaying of my aunt when she cleans, everything is full of life interest and beauty.
This stems from the perception of bits and pieces by the movement of the five senses and the heart.
Reminds me of an English text I learned before. Roughly how we operate various machines, learn to live fast and efficiently, but forget how to slow down.
Maybe in the future we are all proficient in how to find the unknown in GOOGLE, how to use the machine to store our so-called unnecessary memory files, and even we may move and say a word without needing, just like Chaplin's modern era, Machines will feed us meals and soups. So it becomes more and more lazy, more and more dull. Blunt enough to lose sensitivity about anything, lose anger, and lose smile as well. Because we can manipulate everything around us without having to perceive.
I think it is still necessary to maintain some primitive habits, such as writing, observing, even in a daze, daydreaming. It is because of these things that we feel that life is more real. In any case, you are creating, not creating what others are creating.
(Insert: Replying to someone else's message, I found out that I forgot my dream, is it a kind of bluntness, I began to feel the feeling of the dream, I remember every episode when I was a child, it was so deep, but now I open my eyes I have forgotten all about it, only certain things can stimulate me)
to retain the original habits and impulses.
I reflect.
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