我们看别人的故事,就像在做着自己的梦。故事看得太久,梦做得太多,便不愿面对真实的世界,琐碎的生活。我们因迷惘而荒废,每天看似行色匆匆却又无所事事,幸而趋同的迷惘却有着各不相同的荒废,黑白的背景画显现着彩色的人。记得小时候经常受伤:雪地里冻坏了耳朵和手,学骑自行车擦坏了胳膊和膝盖,玩火烧坏了衣服;还有从树上掉下来,从墙上掉下来,从各种各样的地方掉下来,然后……爬起来。为什么让自己不断地受伤,不就是为了想要的快乐吗?不就是为了改变自己吗?如果没有那 When we look at other people’s stories, we are dreaming of ourselves. The story is seen too long, dream too much, they do not want to face the real world, trivial life. We are discarded because of confusion, every day seems seemingly hurried but doing nothing, but fortunately the confusion of convergence has its own different abandoned, black and white background painted color people. I remember I was often injured when I was a child: the ears and hands were frozen in the snow, the arms and knees were worn on the bike, the clothes were burnt out with fire, and the trees fell and fell from the walls. Kind of place fall, then ... get up. Why do you keep hurting yourself, not for the pleasure you want, for not changing yourself? If not