When I go to a strange country, I am always interested in its church and red light district. The church stems from my love of Gothic Culture, the Enlightenment of metal band when I was a child, and the history, culture and geography I studied in junior and senior high schools.

        My favorite movie before was Tim Burton's "zombie bride", which satisfied my imagination of Gothic. I still miss the sick and charming myself, although I always seem out of place with you.

        The bride finally turns into a blue butterfly and flies away. The oath is a very mysterious thing. Emily was killed by her lover before her death, which reminds me of the plot in Kill Bill, which also killed the bride in church. It has to be said that UMA Thurman looks good in her wedding dress. Maybe every woman looks good in her wedding dress. What is the meaning and way of everyone's existence? When I was a kid, I would feel sad when I saw this movie. I would like to take Emily's role.

        At that time, I was happy to recommend my favorite movie with my children. Until now, someone told me that "you have always been unique". I'm ordinary, but I like things that few people like. The world is not beautiful. When I went to Germany, I visited Cologne Cathedral. The church has a long and magnificent history, but it can't escape the fact that there are many tourists. On the contrary, I prefer an unknown small church in a European town. Maybe the door is covered with moss. There is only an old priest left in the church. At the weekend, three or two children go to pray with their families. I prefer marriage in church.

       I hope my future marriage will be held in the church. I can wear a white wedding dress and then entertain the children around me to be flower children.

       My selfish life is to live for myself. My soul is interesting, but more absurd. I'm plan going to Paris again, get off the plane and go straight to Montmartre. I'll stay in Montmartre for a week. According to the online strategy, Paris is the worst place for public security. This is the red light district. The last time I went to Paris, I also lived in Montmartre. On the contrary, I think Montmartre is like real Paris. As I drove through the streets of Montmartre, my eyes were attracted by the colorful lingerie in the shop window. French underwear has a languid and charming atmosphere. Apart from its large size, Asian people can't afford it, it has no other shortcomings. Moulin Rouge and Saint Heart Cathedral are located in MoMA district. Julien recommended the movie "Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain" to me before. It happens that the location of this movie is Montmartre. Montmartre heights is where I have been, and the streets where Emily has been.

        Maybe I can buy some badminton hats and go to Montmartre's bar and ask a depressed painter to draw a picture. There is a winding cobblestone road in MoMA special district. After walking the sloping cobblestone road, you can see the French style dance troupe red mill with a big flashing red leaf wheel on the roof.

        Moulin Rouge is a nightclub where people sing and dance everyday. It's the origin of Kangkang dance and also a country where men spend a lot of time enjoying themselves. I may also experience absinthe, a high alcohol drink that is often portrayed as a dangerous addictive psychoactive. Maybe I can match the eulogy on the streets of Paris and the Dharma stick of MoMA SAR, the lover and devil in absinthe, then go to the pub, meet a depressed artist, and say "Bonjour" to him in poor French. Maybe we can talk about philosophy and life, bread and roses. This is what I always want to do.

        Time has gone too long. So that I even forgot his appearance and stayed in my dream. He was in a wheelchair with a grim face. Empty house, like a maze. One after another, one after another. The room is covered with dust and the sound of wheelchair is squeaky. He kept chasing, and I kept running. I walked towards him and stayed in his arms, so summer began. Yes, summer begins. This is the illusion of life.

        Everything in the past wants to possess me, but I want to possess the future. I can't stand still. My time is limited. My two worlds are getting closer. When I wake up, I put on a British style suit, and then I'm carried downstairs by my neighbors to work. My fingers touch the door. A vague consciousness spread in my mind. I can't explain exactly which is dream and which is reality.

        The doctor told me that it was a distortion caused by anxiety and depression, and that it began to confuse reality with dreams. There are some differences between the dream and the reality. My hair is a little long, and I have a wave roll. I wear a plaid suit and British style leather shoes, and even a sweet smile

       Five months ago, I dreamt that I had started to move to a new house. I went to choose a house. The houses in the apartment are dense, and the outside of the floor is golden. The structure of the corridor in the apartment is complex, which looks like a maze, so it's also mysterious and safe. The corridor is always dark. There are 3 houses in total. I chose the one with the most windows.

        Life has returned to what it wanted most. I used to like the house with French windows the most, and the coldest winter when the sun shines in, it will not be cold and piercing. Time flies too fast. The older the memory, the older it gets. I don't know when I like snakes. When people start to remember, they are already getting old.

        I cleared away the burial place, and there was ferocious hunger between my eyebrows. These words also indicated the distance. I know it's not a joyful contribution. My neck continues to beat like a wall in the next few centuries. It was a dawn, and the green light was shining over the abyss, and I was going to your Great Britain, and the smell of insomnia had shaken from it. I had not been to the market on Friday evening or the graveyard in rainy season, and closed the deviant soul from the silence of exile.

        I may not be so lucky in the body full of blood, but I have bathed in the sunshine and leaves, all love and hate, all joy and pain, all moving and joy. Will form my broken soul and numb soul, like a pile of broken crystal, born lonely, young heart will be broken by burning, gradually burning into ashes

        Being a sexologist, treating and satisfying my patients, I assured her that she would sex with me, but at the same time she had to tell herself that she wanted to sex with more people.With a cigarette ring in his mouth, he inhaled greedily, as if he could reach the blissful world after smoking. In the smoke filled with tobacco, human nature had already disappeared.

        A dim small room

        A couple love each other

        In the dim light

        They lost myself

        As if at that moment

         I am not me.

        You're not you either

        There is an ethereal three-dimensional space.

        Two confused people，Leading the deepest corner of my heart，Young heart,You'll survive,Burnt ashes,It's booty.

       The so-called sense of loneliness is just to find death own way.Tomorrow morning the sun is clear, the city is still full of traffic.The real loneliness is not a person, but someone nearby ignores you.Even if all body are as filthy as a hedgehog, there are still people who reach out and hug you.

       The sound of the city is so close that the sound of friction can be heard clearly on the shutters. It sounds as if it is passing through their room.

       But once again I dream of that man, his messy stubble, pale lips, looks like a walking corpse, a body that has lost its soul. Seems to return to the empty house, like a maze. One after another, one after another. Then he sat in the wheelchair and made a squeaky sound. He chased me. The room was full of dust. I hid in a broken old wardrobe and shivered. The squeaky sound of the wheelchair gradually moved away. When I peeped out my head carefully, he looked up at me and smiled and said to me, "summer begins.".

       So the illusion began. It was wrapped in plastic bags and dropped into the frozen pond. The suffocation made the picture from birth to the second before death rotate and replay like a walking horse lamp. If a person's life is like a movie, then mine must be a horror movie.

       When I went back to the empty house for the third time, the residential building without balcony and windows, the stairwell without lights, the sun could not shine in, full of rotten smell. I'm lucky. I'm hiding in a narrow bathroom with a small window, which is covered by a layer of rusty wire. When I opened the window, put my nose close to the barbed wire and tried to breathe. There was a loud crash. I knew the man was back, but I would rather destroy the barbed wire and jump down.

        Later, the place where I live in my dream became the place where I live in reality. Then I dreamed that my grandma was in my house. I was going to work. My aunt cooked for us in the kitchen. She said that they would leave tonight. I could come back after work and eat the rice. Then I went downstairs and saw that there was a lot of wheat growing in the small square and open space downstairs, and it was also harvested. I want to see the body, but I can only smell the wheat.

       I remember when I was in kindergarten, my mother and I went downtown by bus. When passing by a pond, she told me that someone had killed someone near the pond before. A man betrayed him because of his girlfriend, so he killed his girlfriend and cut off his breast. Then I always thinking of the scenario. The shadow covered my high school. When I saw the breast, I thought of the woman's cut breast. At that time, I bought a corset belt to wrap my breast. The breasts are flattened and the result is me.