The mood is very bad, very bad, very bad.
Why is it so difficult to live?
Why is it so difficult to live well, so difficult?
I really wish I could live in a vacuum and be a vacuum person who doesn’t have to communicate with others or eat, drink or poop.
I really wish I could live in the form of thinking.
I really hope I can be a lonely ghost after death.
Why is it so difficult to stay alone?
Enjoying loneliness sometimes feels like committing a crime.
I really wish I was my own protagonist, able to come and go freely, and stubbornly separated from the world.
I always remind myself to be optimistic, but what I see tells me that it’s not that I’m not optimistic, but that this is its truest appearance.
I don’t know what I am doing, I don’t know what I will do in the future, I don’t know if I can go on this road.
Restless, restless, depressed.
It would be great if there really was a place in the world where I could completely close myself off, so that I could have a place to escape.
I hate the world, I hate myself, I hate life.
But everything still has to go on.
Because I don’t have the courage to die.
Even venting requires constant consideration.
It's a shame that we can't promote positive energy.
Incoherent, confused, and neurotic.
An utopia that cannot be found.
A lonely wonderland beyond sight.
Even a word like loneliness has to be sad to see it given a derogatory part of speech.
Don't dare to be aggrieved or sad, because this is what most people agree with.
Even the occasional tentative words would be called hypocrisy.
I can't even write the words I want.
What a failure, what a failure.
What should I do?
So cowardly
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