Chapter 8: Tomorrow's Smile 2

On Sunday, Xiaochuan, Xiaoxiao and Orange ran to Hunan Road and picked up their little friends. Several people went to Phoenix Book City. The uniform competition that day was not bad, but in the middle of the game, Orange answered the phone and went back to work. Xiaochuan was also worried about the purchase on the same day. He went directly from Hunan Road to the place where they bought.

After a busy afternoon, the shopping was finally over. From three o'clock to six o'clock, everyone finished the preliminary preparations for the event. Ogawa has only leisure time to watch the school's COSPLAY. If it weren't for the animation, he wouldn't have met Xiaoyu, Orange, and Xiaomeng. Ogawa thought of this. In fact, fate is so simple.

The days are still very busy. Ogawa and Orange are busy with different things.

[There will be a star debate on Thursday night]

[?? What is it?

[It's an exhibition competition where each college has won an excellent debater and the most elegant award]

[Not very good?]

[The debate is that which one is more suitable to be a wife, Huang Rong or the dragon girl]

[It's so cute]

[Eh]

[Do you know?]

[?]

[In that rehearsal place, I'm just like a superfluous?]

[?? What's the matter?

[They are so familiar that everyone is good at dancing with long sleeves.]

[It's okay, you are you, they are them]

[But...]

[Okay, don't mind so much]

[I always feel like an outsider]

Orange's words are full of sadness, and Xiaochuan doesn't know how to comfort him. That place is farther away from him. Since he has nothing to do with the debate, he will simply give up. But looking at the sadness of Orange, Ogawa gritted his teeth and decided to go to see Orange on Thursday night.

The big event on Thursday was extremely lively, and there were really a lot of people watching the activities like comedians or shows. Xiaochuan smiled bitterly and was a little sad. He did not belong to this place. From the beginning, he was insulated from the debate. It was not the place he could yearn for. He could only look at the distance and sigh alone.

If you want to be strong, when did you willingly give up? In fact, I know how much I am unwilling and how reluctant I am, but I can't change it. I can only accept that that lively place does not belong to me. I am just a spectator. Xiaochuan is really sad to see them fighting on the stage.

I don't want to continue to sit in the place where I feel sad. Ogawa went to the place where the wind orchestra once trained before the beginning, where only the piano was still used. I still remember that I practiced black pipe here, but the wind orchestra had disbanded. I want to cry inexplicably, because there are still a lot of memories there, happy or sad, all of which are memories.

"I miss you." Xiaochuan dialed the phone to Xiaomeng.

"What's the matter?" Xiao Meng asked with puzzled questions.

"Nothing, by the way, that plan..." Ogawa suddenly stopped talking and was used to talking about work. It turned out that I was a workaholic. Xiaochuan laughed at himself.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just miss you. Let's talk about work tomorrow." Xiaochuan and Xiaomeng said a few words casually and put down the phone.

Back to the big auditorium, Xiaochuan just found a corner, because it is not his own stage, the actor is not himself, and he is just a spectator. What's the difference between sadness or joy?

Chuddle in your own corner and text your friends

[Honey, I miss you so much at this moment and want to hug you and cry.]

[What's wrong?] The bear has always been concerned.

[Nothing, I'm watching the debate, I'm a little sad]

[What's sad about?]

[I'm not in the debate.]

[... It's okay]

[Emp, I know, I'm just dissatisfied] Tears flashed in Xiaochuan's eyes, played a few turns, and endured back.

[This is good Xiaochuan]

[Em, honey, go ahead]

Xiaochuan sat alone in the corner and watched their farce. The play came out one after another. It's time to end.

Lonely at midnight, facing the computer alone, his fingers shuttled on the keyboard, and the words kept jumping.

"The world is as prosperous as a play. It only skips mine, and the excitement is yours.

The person who performs the performance will never be me. I'm just a spectator, and the bustle is theirs.

I have nothing, I'm sad alone,

The sad past, as if I'm not me

I'm a silly clown. I'm obedient to be a spectator. I'm crazy about acting with others. One after another, I'm staring at the end of others. There is no me in the name of the curtain, and there is no me on the stage of the performance. I'm just a spectator. The bustle is all yours, and I only have.

Am I really suitable to be a clown? No matter who you are facing? With the unwillingness to complement the beauty of others, those are all yours, and I am still me.

Become a clown-like spectator like this. Those circles don't belong to me, just like your future doesn't belong to me. Nothing is eternal. Why do you care about the ridiculous self-esteem and vanity?

In fact, I'm tired. I want to have a good rest alone. There is still a long way to go. You are still you, I am still me. Everyone performs their own plays, and I am my spectator.

I just want to sleep well all day without getting up, or put aside all the madness until dawn, agree with Xiao Qi about our hot pot, and make an agreement with Xiaoxiao to make a cheongsam. I don't know which year is the deadline. I'm still wandering when I'm busy and have no goal. Things that used to be so clear are now vague.

One morning when I was out of class, I wandered alone in my own place. The winter in Nanjing was particularly cold, not only my body, but also my heart.

I miss your warmth and the hot heating at home. The warmth is so luxurious.

The community's outreach failed again. I'm inexplicably afraid that the play I'll play will be cold. I'm afraid that I won't even have an audience. I'm afraid that the only play that belongs to me will become a ridiculous past. In the fear of living in the middle, I'm just me.

Maybe the dream is always so beautiful that I can't forget it. It's so good that I'm just looking back alone. It's so complicated that I'm no longer me. I forget that I'm still a spectator.

I really don't know if I'm a guest in my dream, and I've been greedy for a long time.

It's good if you can give me a good time. Even if it's a dream, let me smile.

In my dream, I was a spectator, and when I woke up, I was a passer-by.

Flowing water, falling flowers and spring, heaven and earth.

The flowing water and falling flowers are ruthless, how can you get heaven and earth?

I know that my strength, my strength, my kindness, my gentleness will eventually hurt myself, and I will be defeated, but I can't change myself.

Flowing water, falling flowers, spring goes, we disperse, heaven, earth, we stay away.

You are a passer-by, a passer-by in my life, I am a spectator, a spectator of your life.

I'm just a spectator. I'm not in your play.

I'm still a passer-by, passing by you;

I perform my own drama alone. There are no spectators, no passers-by, and I am the only one in the desert world.

Flowing water, falling flowers and spring, heaven and earth

I'm still me, I'm just me, you're still you, I'm not me, you're just you, I can only be me.