the meaning of this name. She is the important person in the Video game half life. She is a such strong girl and full of courage. She do all she can do to helping human being to against the United Empire. So I use this name for my name.
I do really like to having conversations with people; chatting with others brings me a lot of joy. You can learn a lot from their actions and facial expressions. The conversation itself is fascinating; you share your stories and viewpoints, and they do the same. On the other hand, those darn people on the internet are right. The farthest distance in the world is not the thousands of miles between us but sitting together while you’re engrossed in your phone. They say the internet brings us convenience – you can have a conversation with someone three thousand kilometers away, but you forget to care about the people around you. Aren’t we all just trapped in our own bubbles?
During my holiday, I interned at Guangdong TV station. I interviewed numerous people. Back in school, I helped various student departments with filming various things. I told them, “Don’t be nervous; just focus on the camera.” Yes, focus on the camera. When you look at the camera, it’s also looking at you. It’s not like the sparkle in the eyes of the person you’re talking to. The changes in expression, the rhythm of the body. It just looks at you like that. Profound, elusive. It’s as if it wants to absorb your soul. Endless darkness. Is such a conversation really interesting?
As the night deepens, the rum in the glass and the ice cubes shimmer like diamonds in the faint light of a candle. I’ve never been good with alcohol.
During the holiday, the only person I could talk to was the reflection in the mirror. I sat in the well, and the starry sky still shone brightly. But I couldn’t climb out of the well. So, I stopped looking at the stars. The world is so vast, but there’s no one I can have a amusing conversation with. The flame flickers in the lamplight, reflecting on my not-so-sad face. At this moment, a glistening teardrop slides down my face, silently disappearing into the glass than I drink it all.
I know, I know! Tomorrow morning, when the sun returns to the sky above this bustling city once again, I’ll step out of my door. Because the sunlight is shining on the ground. I’m a good person once more.
Go out, work, immerse yourself in busyness to momentarily forget the darkness of the night and the loneliness of the room. I don’t need to talk to the me from future in that small, dark room in front of the camera. Because I still have dreams to fulfill. I want to escape, to escape! In the midst of a perilous and lengthy journey, I search for moments of inner peace. How luxurious that is for me.
Beside a street corner on my way home from work, every person has their own story. If you get close to that distant, sparkling star, you’ll discover that her radiance is a thousand times brighter than the sun. Yet, this distance is an unbridgeable chasm for a lifetime.
Think about it. If given a chance, I would gladly converse with everyone around me. Because I know that when I finish this short journey, I’ll return to my confined room.
This room doesn’t limit my freedom, but when I step out of it, it’s as if I haven’t really left. I know it. I want for communication, yet the inner self with dreams to fulfill remains in this room, just like Nietzsche never left the world of philosophy.
At night, I can’t seem to sleep. I sit up and light a cigarette. This sadness has no source. I gaze sadly at the two pillows on my bed, one belongs to me, and the other also belongs to me. People outside are always fixated on finding their other halves, but I have always been indifferent to it.
Yet, whenever I see people walking hand in hand, a glimmer of hope ignites in my heart. Well, perhaps it’s because autumn has arrived.
I’ve likely been alone for too long, and I find myself wishing for a companion. When I write, Lynn Lin reads my words nearby. When I’m not writing, I hold her hand and admire her gentle eyes. My alcohol tolerance is low, and I drink sparingly, but I guess it’s time to find a love interest. Lately, the nights have been especially cold, both physically and emotionally. Facing the challenge of this harsh winter, even the two blankets on my bed seem a bit insufficient. Perhaps only Miss Lin’s care might make me feel warm.
I walked down the street. There is four persons , one couple, and the other pair consisted of Lynn Lin and me.
Now it seems like I’m no longer alone. I have Miss Lin as my companion. I no longer need to converse with the reflection in the mirror. Life seems to have become much lighter. At least in the lonely depths of the night, I can sit across from her. Have a conversation with her. Discuss my future, and I really admire her sense of fashion. She appears to enjoy listening to me. She never interrupts me, nor does she lower her head to check her phone for messages from others. Conversing with her is so glad. She just sits there. Quietly listening. I also don’t have to worry about losing her. She won’t leave me, and she certainly won’t experience the trials of life, nor death. She—has no life.
Conversing with people is a very joyful thing. But it seems like I may not have that privilege.
And at the last of this blog I want to give everyone in a porty. From Chinese writer The son of the ocean.
The flowers are bloom in the steppe which gods dying.
The wind is more far away than the far.
My lyre crying, my tear gone.
I give the far back to the steppe.
The Scroll, The tail.
My lyre crying, my tear gone.
The flowers came from the death in the far.
The moon shine like mirror above the steppe.
My lyre crying, my tear gone.
Only me and mine.
