cocoon
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When I was about to write something about this gloomy novel, I looked up and saw snowflakes drifting outside the window. But they’re not the big snowflakes I imagine – those that flutter slowly and can cover all shadows. These are tiny, fine particles, like dust of a different shade; they create a depressing atmosphere, just like in days of harsh wind and rain. But at this moment, I was incredibly grateful for this sudden snowfall, as it pulled me out of the story in this book. One can temporarily forget, forget those unpleasant things, forget those scenes more terrifying than death, and that image of the nailed man numbered 317, with a faint smile on his face, existing beyond life and death. I don’t want to, or to be honest, I dare not recall the various events described in the book. I need to read some books with a lively language and a fresh style. Li Jiaxi’s life is indeed a tragedy, but it stems from her tendency to exaggerate her own pain to an extreme degree; in fact, the source of her suffering had nothing to do with her at all, yet she rushed headlong toward that source regardless of anything. Perhaps only by letting go of all the burdens in one’s heart can one escape certain misfortunes! I need to calm down, go roll around in the snow...
It really doesn’t matter to stay in that cocoon for a day or two, but the problem of \"binding oneself in a cocoon\" can be quite serious. I haven’t done very well in this regard; I’m just reflecting on it.
By binding oneself in a cocoon, one can have the possibility of emerging as a butterfly
When we met in the afternoon, I could sense that something was standing in the way between us – that secret; perhaps you already knew it. It may have melted away over long periods of time, seeping into the fabric of life. But I believe it still exists, and you, just like me, can’t turn a blind eye to it. Let’s talk about it, okay? For the first and last time, let’s keep everything related to this secret just for tonight.