There is a long gap between myself and myself

Josue 2022-04-23 07:05:41

If you ran away a long time ago, went to a particularly beautiful place, and let the other self only watch her enjoy the beauty, and the latter self looked at her and thought that she had caught up with the previous self, excited , happy, a steady stream of compulsion. The rift has already started from the other self to the good place, never closed, and cannot be healed. It can never be crossed, this eternal shame can only be filled by illusion, this crack can only be saved by self-deception.
Why should it happen to a bunch of women instead of a bunch of boys, a tall and handsome male teacher. Or is it that women are more likely to fail on the road of self-deception. A female teacher who needs to find a sense of presence in the same sex, she has only girls and no opposite sex, so she is psychopathic? ! How does a person define himself? Through others, through self-examination, through other people's examination, it reflects on himself and then self-examination. One becomes such a person because of the scrutiny of others, because the double scrutiny of the self determines one's own existence. So, being the best person means being the best person in the eyes of others. That self, the most perfect and best self, ran away from the moment this idea started, and she began to let the ugly and primitive true self lying on the ground feel shame and humiliation all the time. Terrible. How can a female teacher prove her existence, the premise is that she is aware of her existence, she can be an old maid, just stay there, just like everyone else, is there any problem, no, very safe, especially Safety. The most tragic thing is that she wants to start different, that fictional, imaginary perfect self, because of the different self-validated self, ran away, far away from touch, lie, self-deception, lie, self-deception, How can you not be hypnotized for a long time? I am her and she is me.
However, the truth is like the pea under the bed of Princess Pea. When she sleeps, she always reminds me, ah, I panic. A truly perfect person appeared. In reality, in fact, the hypnotized self was suddenly pulled under the sun to bask in the sun, only to realize that he had always been a shadow on the ground, lying on the ground, never getting up. That crack has always existed, and it instantly makes that self nowhere to hide, like being stripped of clothes. The perfect she is perfect because she must not exist alive, cannot exist, cannot be integrated with life, and cannot dangle around herself every day. So she had to die, to be dead to ensure perfection. Cracks cannot be repaired, they are always there. It can only be ignored to a certain extent, it is the tension between the real and the illusion, the battlefield of the self and the self, the boundless nothingness that can be beautified, or it is nothing, just a dream, there are also Probably just the sudden boredom since H.
What can this crack bring? Violent? Reality and illusion mean that you have a fight, one of you dies, and then countless yourself stand up? If it is simple, the world will always be peaceful and life will always be beautiful. It's real, someone died, it's just me, the self-fantasy and lust of the person who wrote it, it's an explanation. But, indeed, indeed, someone died. How far is the distance between an idea and an action? This behavior breaks through the goodness of human beings, breaks through the many defenses of society, and is finally implemented, depriving others of their lives, just giving it a name of violence, or giving it a name. Is an explanation full of beauty and imagination enough? Or, if there is no way out, just admit that people are inherently evil, or that people are inherently sinful, once and for all? Someone died and was killed by another. I don't know what to say. Because I don't know either.
Half of how many people were gone a long, long time ago, in a place that made the other me envious and made the other me suffer humiliation and torment. I want to be a better version of myself, but I'll never get there, and then there's chronic jealousy and never-ending anxiety and inability to accept myself. Or, live safely in self-deception, never knowing it.
Maybe, in literature and art, this crack is very subtle, so there will be a lot of beauty, even if it is ugly, you can also look at it, there are too many possibilities. However, once you enter life, torment, pain, anxiety, grief, and how clearly they exist, make you feel uneasy all day long. Produce better work? Maybe. But why can't the life continue smoothly, safely and happily?
Really, if you don't start, can everything be perfect? ​​This perfection is peaceful.

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Extended Reading
  • Nakia 2022-04-03 09:01:12

    3.5. Build a tragedy step by step, watching and guessing who is the maker, the survivor, the leaver. Jordan Scott's debut feature isn't on the same level as "Notes on a Scandal," but it's the looks, the atmosphere, and, of course, the beauty and exoticism of Britain. btw, do you think Eva Green's all kinds of amorous feelings still have the setting director of beg for love? ! !

  • Nina 2022-04-05 09:01:07

    I always feel that each of us may have had a miss G in our hearts! Use all kinds of imaginings to cover up the empty, shallow and true self! I want to use a disguised charm to attract the admiration of other people, but some people just think about it and some people really become miss G! I remember that I had met such a person before, who made up all kinds of lies to attract the attention and admiration of the people around me. I longed for her to change, but it was fruitless!

Cracks quotes

  • Poppy: I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: 'Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear, "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

  • Di: She's obviously never read Treasure Island, she has no idea what you're on about.

    Poppy: Ooh-ahr, it weren't me and you can't prove a thing.

    Poppy: Ooh-ahr, mind me peg leg and me parrot.