About the last day of my 108th life cycle, I took a clear plastic cake-cutting knife and slashed my left and right wrists twice. After completing the symbolic death ceremony, I suddenly became very disgusted with the four to eight waves of depression every year. The game of suicide played when it comes. For example, like Sisyphus, move the bed to the study, the desk to the bedroom, or hit the pillow with your head upright (hitting the wall directly, your head will hurt), or hide in the closet and hang the horizontal bar, pretending to be on the verge of dying... By the cake With the enlightenment of the knife, I discovered my childishness. Fortunately, no one knew about these children's toys left over from childhood.

Basically, the melancholy bone is born, when it realizes that it is trapped in the steel mesh of time and space, work and responsibility, reality and pressure, like a delicate lily caught in the gradually solidifying cement slurry, it asks Call the shots, try to rebel and escape, and when all efforts fail completely, they hold a symbolic relief, and the next day they sit at the desk happily and sing "work life".

Now, I am familiar with another game, in which the incurable melancholic ailments are divided by a policy of phased leisure time. Technically, there are two factions: action and fantasy. The former is suitable for normal people, while the latter is suitable for abnormal or poor people.

As far as activists are concerned, skipping a shift to have afternoon tea at the Hyatt Hotel or flying to Kenting for a holiday is considered a leisure time for beginners; for intermediate ones, go diving in Bali or Maldives, and get a black skin as a souvenir stamp. However, for a new urban poor like me, who is not diligent, stingy, and lacks the ability to survive, the action-oriented way of getting away is too labor-intensive.

Fantasy, a beautiful fantasy can immediately solve the desire for leisure, as long as you lie on the table and squint, you can immediately go to the uninhabited sunny beach to swim, and enjoy the thrill of the bright blue waves hitting you. The vast ocean is only for you. A majestic summer love song. You can shout, scream, and sing to trap the seagulls circling in the sky; your eyes are a little sour from the sea water, but the bottoms of your feet are very itchy with the quicksand and shells; you swim back and float on the sea with the return tide, Like a tropical fish; a small sea crab crawled up at some point, treating your body as an island of smooth, fragrant flesh, now scouring around, conducting fascinating fieldwork; and you approached a small emerald On the island, someone has cut the coconut for you. Not far away, the barbecued lobster has given off an irresistible fragrance... When the fanciful slack veteran returned from the beach, he was thinking about going to India to watch the sunset on the Ganges River next time. When he was still sneaking into Van Gogh's wheat fields and listening to the tragic drumbeats in the land, the action group had just arrived at the airport, obediently lining up to weigh their luggage.

About the last day of my 108th life cycle, I took a clear plastic cake-cutting knife and slashed my left and right wrists twice. After completing the symbolic death ceremony, I suddenly became very disgusted with the four to eight waves of depression every year. The game of suicide played when it comes. For example, like Sisyphus, move the bed to the study, the desk to the bedroom, or hit the pillow with your head upright (hitting the wall directly, your head will hurt), or hide in the closet and hang the horizontal bar, pretending to be on the verge of dying... By the cake With the enlightenment of the knife, I discovered my childishness. Fortunately, no one knew about these children's toys left over from childhood.

Basically, the melancholy bone is born, when it realizes that it is trapped in the steel mesh of time and space, work and responsibility, reality and pressure, like a delicate lily caught in the gradually solidifying cement slurry, it asks Call the shots, try to rebel and escape, and when all efforts fail completely, they hold a symbolic relief, and the next day they sit at the desk happily and sing "work life".

Now, I am familiar with another game, in which the incurable melancholic ailments are divided by a policy of phased leisure time. Technically, there are two factions: action and fantasy. The former is suitable for normal people, while the latter is suitable for abnormal or poor people.

As far as activists are concerned, skipping a shift to have afternoon tea at the Hyatt Hotel or flying to Kenting for a holiday is considered a leisure time for beginners; for intermediate ones, go diving in Bali or Maldives, and get a black skin as a souvenir stamp. However, for a new urban poor like me, who is not diligent, stingy, and lacks the ability to survive, the action-oriented way of getting away is too labor-intensive.

Fantasy, a beautiful fantasy can immediately solve the desire for leisure, as long as you lie on the table and squint, you can immediately go to the uninhabited sunny beach to swim, and enjoy the thrill of the bright blue waves hitting you. The vast ocean is only for you. A majestic summer love song. You can shout, scream, and sing to trap the seagulls circling in the sky; your eyes are a little sour from the sea water, but the bottoms of your feet are very itchy with the quicksand and shells; you swim back and float on the sea with the return tide, Like a tropical fish; a small sea crab crawled up at some point, treating your body as an island of smooth, fragrant flesh, now scouring around, conducting fascinating fieldwork; and you approached a small emerald On the island, someone has cut the coconut for you. Not far away, the barbecued lobster has given off an irresistible fragrance... When the fanciful slack veteran returned from the beach, he was thinking about going to India to watch the sunset on the Ganges River next time. When he was still sneaking into Van Gogh's wheat fields and listening to the tragic drumbeats in the land, the action group had just arrived at the airport, obediently lining up to weigh their luggage.