When I first read this novel, I was very moved. In my impression, black is a color that makes people feel very lonely, but since reading this novel, I know that ink is also a color that has an aura of loneliness mixed with it.
It has an aura of melancholy and mystery. And when I read the content of the article carefully, you wrote, "Ink-colored chandeliers, ink-colored floor-to-ceiling windows, ink-colored silk curtains, ink-colored dining tables, ink-colored leather sofas, and ink-colored wallpapers."
And the ceiling, the dark spiral staircase... everything is ink. There is no TV, only a laptop with a cold light on the British classic tabletop. Under the ink, the light seems very weak. "Such a big one.
She was the only one living in the room, how desolate it was!
In my mind, I can only think of who that person is? What has he experienced? How could he write such a touching novel?
The wind blew away the last remaining dreams
So far away and so silent
Such a cool scene with a decadent mood
There is only a string of lonely feet left on the road
I don’t want to get drunk today, I just want to lick the pain alone
The eternal oath is now reunited with sadness
Unhappiness in this life is shared
Hate! Two people are happy but cannot embrace each other for a long time
It hurts! It’s too much but you don’t understand
The gentle eyes make me lost, maybe it was just once
Are you still looking at distant dreams?
The moment the nightmare strikes, I suddenly wake up
And I found the tears on my pillow were shining brightly
Exudes a strange and strange mood
How to heal the wounded strength?
The blade on the opposite side is still as cold as ice
I can never be at peace
Error creep cannot request a pause at all
How can I undo my foolish decision?
There are only tears left in the dark night until dawn
The grievances that have been defined are no longer clear
Let me deliver the dream that misses you
Am I sure to win the next battle?
What we have to face is unbearable mud
Looking back on that day, I still seem to be smiling
In the blink of an eye, the expression becomes still and returns to its original shape.
When can we get out of this shadow?
Scenes, bits and pieces, paragraphs, one kind
Still awake, I can’t tell whether it’s reality or a dream