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– Gazing at the darkness, the silence in the ear is silent, and the thoughts are running.
– Light and dark, the words are silent and exist between life and death.
"The maxim of the god of light, Gulesfield Road"
The memories at the time of death were stunned and turbid.
……I spend most of my day in dimly lit rooms.
Why did it fail?
The result failed, probably not going out from home.
The family touched me with indecisive attitude.
Just a sly smile.
A warm and uncomfortable comfort, a common experience.
Maybe it is that gentleness.
But that is poison for me.
There, it's not anxious to go on like this, and it feels like a burning heart.
The half-hearted mind has a comfortable room.
Being implanted with fear of going out.
A family that says nothing.
Even he took the step and hesitated.
If you can come back.
The next day after the failure.
Or the same day.
A week later. After 1 month. After 1 year. Even 10 years later.
If you step out of that step, there may be different different changes.
But I did not go out.
Did not go out of that step.
Did not take the courage of just one step.
There is a luck of "things" that take that step.
The lack of "things" may be just an excuse for yourself.
When you can not get out, the reasons for giving up have accumulated.
……Because it is already too late.
……Because I can not get it back.
……Because I do not know what I can do.
……No matter what you do now, it is just being laughed at.
The feeling of anxiety is getting stronger and stronger, but everything feels troublesome.
Though I want to go out, it is scary.
I do not understand what I want to do or what I want to do.
Although alive, generally painful, there is no thought of almost wanting to die.
I am given food like stuffed water, and entertainment that is cheap to consume is used to living like this.
Because of fear of failure, the final disillusionment moves away from sight, and the stupid self-consciously compromises the body in this life.
The memory of death is awkward.
It is must be because there is no medicine to save the cockroaches, turbid.
Life that reverses day and night.
The light from the screen.
Hit the sound of the keyboard.
Not complete, and chaos continues.
And just a little bit of vivid memory.
The motor works to make a sound. A cart with a white coffin is passed through the front.
And the mechanical sounds without feelings slowly pushed the entrance of the incinerator.
Only a little bit of a vivid impression in that sly memory is the memory of the parents' death.
In front of the parents who turned into white mothers.
Did I shed tears?
All in the smog.
However, it is too late to take the opportunity to take the opportunity from a memory.
Every day, I came back again, and I was interrupted unconsciously.
The memory of death is ambiguous and turbid.
That must be alive without hope.And turbid.
– Finally, I feel the light of the light.
From the sly, the turbid memory woke up.
Can see the dim ceiling …
Then suddenly appeared in front of me
In the hollow eye socket, the blue smoldering skeleton screamed and screamed, and reached out to me.
"Ah ah ah …!?"
I sent a wail.
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