我觉得，说谎的人太多了。
我就觉得会是这样，很奇怪。我觉得我无法理解，似乎我的存在让我看见了灵性圈子不为人知的一面。
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没有什么是不可以的，就好像是生命无法承受的重量，或者是孑然一身的孤独，就算是碎了一地鸡毛也要看到的希望。
As above, as below.
强烈的呼喊也无人应答的悲伤，错误后痛苦的鞭笞责罚，奄奄一息的哭喊。
有人说死亡是一切问题的终结，离开是最好的选择。但就好像那黑白分明的边界，诉说着无尽的世界无有意的形体终将化为你我之间的对立与凝望。
没有所谓真正的成功，蓝色的玻璃，如同放飞的翅膀，把意识化为乌有，把记忆换成遗忘，漆黑的眼睛，只有一只蓝色的蝴蝶在空中不知方向的徘徊。
睁开眼，只是一个杯子而已，闭上眼，则是无尽的虚空。若有若无的肉体，还存在么？
双手伸向我，我不确定是何人的，我感觉到战栗。我见过无数人的手，各式各样的，而这双手，似乎要从废墟中拉出压在下面的生命。我看着这双手，摇了摇头，无所谓，无所谓。我说。
手缩了回去，两双眼睛看着我，我不认识，也似乎认识。我告诉他们，没有所谓成功。只是你们编造的谎言罢了。
我轻轻掸了掸身上的泥土，从白色的光线中走了出去。
两人拿起了杯子，放在了桌上。
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我感到我们都有结识的愿望，但似乎都不知如何开口，于是互相注视一下终又都移开目光擦身而过；这样的次数一多，便更不知如何开口了。（史铁生 《我与地坛》）
“We both had the desire to strike up a conversation, but neither of us knew how to begin. So, after glancing at each other for a moment, we both averted our eyes and passed by without a word. The more this happened, the more difficult it became for either of us to initiate a conversation.” -
有时候连我自己都不知道我想做成什么样的内容，我只是在不断的摸索和思考。或许我就是想要一个标志物，或许就是给自己的一个账户标签，当我搞不清楚自己是谁的时候容易想起来。
可是我就是做不出这样的地方。或许说是我不愿意做出这样的形状和颜色吧。
美是无限的，也是没有既定的样貌的。完完全全的存在，接纳无限的可能满足感幸福感就会充满自己的身体。
但是人人又羡慕的感觉，我似乎在学生时代体验过，而现在，在这个小小的格子间里面。我觉得变的不那么理解自己了。
这是我的问题还是格子的问题，是语言的问题，翻译的问题，还是心态的问题，我也记不清。
我徘徊着，向往着，但又努力的拒绝着，为了一种独特的美，我选择被动。我可以尝试在做出一些变化，但是变化是以刻板的限制为坐标的，我似乎想起什么来了。有时候美是一种约定俗成，有时候也是遗世独立，魔鬼是美丽的么？还是天空是美丽的？看不穿，也看不透。
哦，我没有承诺过我必须是克己复礼的。古怪的心，古怪的人。忘记的也许就是那种古怪的不和谐，而又放肆的美貌吧！我在每个博客里面写上的内容都不一样，不像很多人同步发送很多相同的东西，似乎在一个世界我认为美好和和谐的东西进入到另外一个地方就变的变了味道，我是如此的被影响，以至于我连小小的写作软件也不放过，想想真是可笑。
我记得当时有这样一句话’这孩子，真的很担心影响别人，所以就连一朵小花都不敢碰了。’
真是可爱。
Sometimes, I don’t even know what kind of content I want to create. I am constantly exploring and thinking. Perhaps I just want a symbol or a label for myself—something I can easily remember when I feel lost and uncertain about who I am. But I can’t seem to create that place, or maybe I don’t want to have that fixed shape or color.
Beauty is limitless and has no fixed appearance. It is complete existence, embracing infinite possibilities and filling oneself with happiness. Sometimes, beauty is conventional, while other times, it is unique and independent. Is the devil beautiful, or is the sky? I can’t see through or comprehend it.
Oh, I never promised to be modest. My strange heart, my strange self—perhaps what I’ve forgotten is the disharmonious yet unrestrained beauty!
The content I write in each blog is different. Unlike others who post the same things in multiple places, I feel that what I consider beautiful and harmonious in one world changes its flavor when it enters another. I am so easily influenced that even the smallest writing software worries me. It’s funny when I think about it.
I remember someone once saying, “This child is so worried about affecting others that they don’t even dare to touch a small flower.”
How adorable.
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这种水的通透和波光让我感觉纸醉金迷。
我要是可以周围这样润泽充满色彩就好了。
在踏入水中的一瞬间，美好和光泽，深色浅色的绿色和红色黄色就被创造出来，这是神奇的姿态和梦幻的创造力，仿佛人生似乎从此摇曳了，化成点点珠光和满满的涟漪。
In that instant of entering the water, a brilliant tapestry of colors emerged—deep and light shades of green, red, and yellow, all woven together in a mesmerizing display. This enchanting blend of hues was nothing short of miraculous, as if conjured from a dream, and it felt as though life itself had begun to sway and dance in response to this fantastic burst of creativity!
人生如画那就好了!你觉得呢？
艺术创作最大的好处就是你永远不知道下一张会是什么样的，每一件新的作品都是一个等待揭晓的谜，你似乎看到了一些，似乎又看不明白，这种犹如琵琶半遮面的感觉，熟悉而陌生，就好像在水中，还是在人中，如果每一种美妙都永存这样的神秘和遥远，那就是通往心的距离吧。
Indeed, the beauty of artistic creation lies in its unpredictability and endless possibilities. Each new piece is a mystery waiting to be unveiled, revealing a glimpse of something familiar yet enigmatic. This feeling of lingering uncertainty is akin to the half-hidden face of a pipa player, or the mesmerizing depths of water and the human soul. If every form of beauty could retain this air of mystery and distance, it would surely be a pathway to the heart.
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Sometimes I feel like I don’t have much in common with this place, but sometimes it feels like I have to stay here.
Maybe it’s because I have an instinct to retreat, which might be the reason. It’s a strange feeling.
It seems better to go to a place where no one knows and start over.
戏剧化的恐慌，似乎更能引起人们对生命的思考，和对人生的感受，内心的拉力其实也是一种艺术表现形式。对于端水的侍从来说，给别人提供礼貌和和热茶就是完美的表现了。
“Dramatic panic seems to be more thought-provoking about life and feelings about life. The inner tension is actually an artistic expression. For the Page of Cups, providing others with courtesy and hot tea is a perfect performance.”
我把旧的文章都放到回收站了，这让我感觉很欣慰，我把评论区也删掉了，这样很好。或许有一种可能，就是我可以睡觉去了。
Perhaps no one is forcing me to do anything, but I can’t escape the pressure of thinking and tension.
我忘记了，其实我有空间，也有时间，只是自己一个人的时候，或许就是在大家都睡着的时候。人多可爱，或许在全世界都睡着的时候，梦才开始呢。
I forgot that I have space and time, especially when I’m alone, or when everyone is asleep. People are lovely, perhaps the world only begins to dream when everyone is asleep.
我这才发现，其实写那些东西并不能真正让人感觉到安宁，因为只有安宁本身才能带来安宁。我似乎忘记了什么，但是会想起来的。只要喝水，就足够了。人生的礼物本身就是可爱的，如果不是一直强求，永远都是可爱的。精神世界仿佛只是一场幻觉，没有边际。梦的起点，不必强求。
I’ve realized that writing about these things doesn’t actually bring peace, because only peace itself can bring peace. I seem to have forgotten something, but I will remember it. Just drinking water is enough. The gift of life itself is lovely, if not always pursued. The spiritual world seems to be nothing but an illusion, without a limit. The beginning of a dream, no need to be forced.
每种颜色的毛绒小兔子，都是可爱的。