(Diary from two or three days ago)

(I’m in a hurry, so I may not have time to carve it out. Let’s just look at it. Maybe sometimes, raw is also a kind of beauty.)

After living here for so long, I finally stood on the roof for the first time.

(I glanced at it once out of curiosity.)

(Reminds me of the line "no peeking" in "Guinea Pigs")

Afterwards, my whole mind was filled with a torrent of poetry and inspiration.

It seems that not only the footprints, but also the heart is standing on a high place.

This is an unpleasant feeling that I don’t want to vomit, and I feel that after I vomit this breath, I no longer need to be greedy for this earthly world and become immortal.

It seems that it has been completed. Even if my earth online is put to a rest or a full stop at this moment, it is completely all right.

Grant me eternal sleep.

Well, what poems have come to mind?

"Don't be afraid of the clouds covering your eyes, just because you are at the top"?

Or "When you return from Huangshan Mountain, you don't want to see the mountains."

Is it "raising your voice from afar, not borrowing the autumn wind", or "climbing high and moving, your arms are not lengthened, but those who hear it are enlightened".

It is "knowing the heights of brothers from afar" and "standing on the stage alone after being sick for a hundred years".

Still "thinking about the long journey of heaven and earth, I burst into tears with sadness".

It’s like “The dangerous building is a hundred feet high, and you can pick the stars with your hands”;

Or "We are all full of joy and hope, and want to go up to the sky to embrace the bright moon."

Okay, let’s put it into perspective first. Let’s talk about why we climbed to the top.

Just because ("just because I'm in the crowd"... cough cough), just because (Input Method Master, you've had enough!)

Just by chance, I noticed a cloud on the horizon.

(What kind of cloud is "a cloud made of rain")

One...not...

It is a colorful cloud belt.

Taking pictures at the railing ("Don't lean on the railing alone", "Lean on the railing, the rain will stop") is not entirely enjoyable.

This human-made building really disfigures the scenery.

High buildings, city walls, concrete floors.

The prison of the earth, the prison of mankind.

A small room..like cage, like cell.

Sorry, my mind wandered away. Bring me back...

The next second I thought of the ladder.

(Speaking of ladders, there is something about it. When I was a kid, I lived near my aunt’s house with my grandparents. The melons my grandfather planted climbed to the roof. I asked my uncle to pick them, but he said he was afraid of falling to death. I thought it was a bit funny at the time, but now I think about it. That’s right, it is a risky job after all.)

Climb? I don’t dare.

Might be a little afraid of heights.
Chapter completed!