fat girl raised her hand and replied, "Believe in two contradictory things at the same time. I believe they are all true."
Then the cool teacher said something like this:
To deliberately believe in lies while knowing they're false
.
Examples of this in everyday life: Oh, I need to be pretty, to be happy. I need surgery to be pretty. I need to be thin, famous, fashionable…Our young men, today, are being told that women are whores; bitches, things to be screwed, beaten, shit on, ashamed. This is a marketing holocaust.
24 hours a day, for the rest of our lives, the powers that be hard at work, dumbing us to death. So, to defend ourselves and fight against assimilating this dullness into our thought processes, we must learn to read to stimulate our to cultivate our own consciousness, our own belief system.
We all need these skills TO DEFEND TO PRESERVE our MINDS. For
the rest of our lives, 24 hours a day, the weight of work is always there, until it crushes us to death. Therefore, in order to protect ourselves and prevent being eroded by such depressive thoughts, we must learn to read to stimulate imagination, cultivate self-awareness, and establish our own beliefs.
We need this skill to protect, maintain, our mind (heart).
While reading or entertaining, it never occurred to me that the source of joy that provided me every day was actually the antidote. Nor has it ever delved into the very nature of the pleasure of reading, precisely because it is false. When the reality is so bad that we are forced to compromise or die, the ability to find temporary refuge becomes the wisdom. And this sanctuary was just so close. - It's an extremely pessimistic thought, but I don't care, it's the best interpretation of reading I've ever heard.
At 1 hour 09 minutes 27 seconds, the fat girl blocked the cool and handsome teacher who was alone in the classroom. She wanted to talk, and said with a sad face: "As you said, we are born with nothing, living in this world, the only one. All I can do is keep finding out how fucked up life is. I can't take it anymore, I can't keep going."
The cool teacher gently touched the fat girl's right arm and said something very vulgar: Listen
to me. Just listen. We're all the same. We all feel pain. We all have chaos in our lives.
The girl is very dismissive, and I am so disappointed with the computer brewing emotions.)
(BUT)
Life is very, very confusing, I know. I don't have the answers, but I know if you write it out,
IT WILL BE OKAY.
As long as you can write it down, everything will be fine.
I believe this is a fool. Although every time I am lost, depressed, unhappy, lonely; or happy, peaceful, playing, and enjoying, I will beat hard on a document, and then save or publish it as if I have released something. How true is it written? Those who are in good and bad moods are exaggerated hundreds of times. Are those things really killing me? But strangely, it seems that there is really no need to die after writing it. It seems that he has prescribed a dose of medicine for himself, either to strengthen his body and resist a few more winds, or just like a drunken madness for sleep, and then forget about it. ——This is self-deception, whoever believes is a fool.
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