Chapter 9 Chapter 8 is not the blade

one One day, the weather was as cold as a knife's edge. In the afternoon, I started drinking with a few friends. After a few drinks, several of them felt a little depressed, so they suddenly talked about life. I had a few glasses of wine, so I suddenly became poetic, so I wrote a poem titled "Scenery": The son of the king and grandson is fur and the horse is light, and the servants behind the horse are like a cloud. There is a pot of carved wine in front of the saddle, and there is a beauty in the sedan chair before walking! I said: "What a beautiful thing this is, and how beautiful the scenery is." Everyone agreed.

Unfortunately, scenery does not necessarily mean happiness. Others see him happy and happy, maybe he has a lot of troubles in his heart, and he is so bored that he wants to hang himself. Others saw the beauty in his sedan chair with icy muscles and bones, and she was peerless, but maybe what he was worried about was another ordinary girl. two This is emotion. Human beings have many emotions, and there is absolutely no certain law, and no one can control them, especially oneself. You want yourself not to think this way, but "it" wants to think this way, you want yourself not to think about that person, maybe a shadow of that person will appear in your mind every minute, every second, this kind of Although the feeling is not the edge of a knife, it is heart-wrenching!