This is my definition of a friend: They are people you meet at certain moments and can influence you, or they participate in shaping your personality, even if they just pass by or make friends in general. Parents, friends, lovers, and perhaps enemies, these determine who you are. I am no longer a slime, time has solidified my form. In other words, in this life, I will not have more friends than before. This is only about self, only about timing: it is not that latecomers are not good enough, but that they have no room for acceptance. Unless burned and re-engraved, external forces cannot exert influence on the finished work.
What followed was a change, and the once familiar gradually became stranger. When the plagiarism incident first came out, I was actually a little angry. Then I searched for evidence on the Internet and accidentally found a friend's blog. I used to think he was a very potential writer, but then he was silent. That is a secret place that no one knows. I saw him confide his feelings towards the other person: even if the whole world does not believe in you, I believe in you and will always believe in you.
——At that moment, there were mixed feelings. Not disappointed, not melancholy, but suddenly soft. Love is far from suffering. When I was a child, I was fascinated by the sight of thousands of lights. When there is a light, there is a kind of joy, anger, sorrow and joy. However, only after I grew up did I understand that those were beyond my ability to bear. Observation of freedom, a thousand hands and a thousand eyes-how to be comfortable after seeing? How not to have mercy? I am not a Buddha, I only have to cover my ears, silence my mouth, and close my eyes.
Yang and Mo, positive and negative. I can't sever contact with the world, or even focus on myself as I hope. This is a bad habit. Instead of spending time and effort on things that know no results. Unlike Sisyphus, this is not hard labor. These things, these people themselves, have made me happy. Sometimes I think that the happiness of life may be meaningless. The gardener grows roses until the garden is full of spring. Then the autumn arrived, and the flowers withered overnight, so I felt sorry for myself: I was really blind at the beginning, and after so much effort, I harvested a garden of dilapidated flowers and leaves. He forgot that the joy of seeing the flowers at first has already compensated for the hard work, and even the hard work itself is a joy with hope. Seeing the flowers bloom, and then happy, it's enough. Giving itself is also a kind of gain.
However, gradually, these happiness will become scarcer. There was a sudden change of mind one night, looking for an acquaintance who had disappeared for several years on the Internet. Baidu and Google, all search engines, tens of thousands of search results, can not see the slightest trace. She and I are just a few aspects in the text. In the impression they are children with strong and fragile personalities, lives walking on the edge of the world. Alive or dead, maybe just lost in the net sea? No way to know. The fate, as thin as spider silk, came to an abrupt end. I and those familiar to me will eventually be lost.
In the evening, wandering in the alleys of Florence, watching the sun move little by little from the top of the old building. There is a small shop on the side of the road, open the door and walk in, a house full of gadgets. Leaning against the window, a row of puppets attracted my attention. There were five people from big to small, in red clothes and funny hats. The owner is an old man with a white beard, smiling for me to demonstrate, push it down, and then it will slowly climb up with the help of the spring. About to inquire about its origin, suddenly saw the pointed nose. In an instant, Daigo empowered: This is the former me, my predecessor.
"...Have you heard the story of Pinocchio the puppet? If you want to choose a cartoon character to represent me, it should be this."
"Because he likes to lie?"
"No, because he tries to learn to be a person."
"And Like a mermaid?"
"A mermaid is for love, very persistent. I am not persistent, but I want to be a person."
-So, an adult.
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