This is a strange spiritual world. In terms of food, there is only grain, no snacks. In the cup, there is only water and no wine. There is only melody in music, no splendor. When you take a deep breath, there is only air, no floral fragrance. When you read a novel, there is only the story, no characterization. Of course, this is a silent spiritual world, which can still live, but it is inexplicable and a little boring. In this boredom, there is also a lingering gentle coolness, which is the sadness of no attachment.
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