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没有人统计过一个人一天会说多少句话,其中有多少是对自己说的,日记的美妙,或许就在于终于有时间可以跟自己说说话。一、卡夫卡1910年睡觉,醒来,睡觉,醒来,可怜的生活。我不会让自己累着。我要跳进我的小说里,即使这会划破我的脸孔。我要是废墟中的小民该多好啊,静静地谛听寒鸦的鸣叫,任头上飞过它们的影子,月亮下的寒意,即使我在我良好性格的压力下,一开始就有那么一点儿的孱弱,这个性格肯定随着野草的力量在我身上
No one counts how many sentences a person spends a day, how many of them say to himself, and the beauty of a diary, perhaps, at the very last minute, to speak to oneself. First, Kafka slept in 1910, waking up, sleeping, waking up, poor life. I will not let myself tired. I want to jump into my novel, even if it will pierce my face. If I should be a little man in the ruins, I should listen quietly to the sounds of jackdaws, the shadow of their flying over their heads, the chill of the moon, even if I am under the pressure of my good character, from the very beginning A little weak, this character is certainly with the power of weeds on me