telebookstall

Sometimes I especially like to listen to pure music, not because it sounds good, but because I don't want too much noise and I don't want silence. Just like the internet, connecting in a perfect way in distant places. The changes in melody lead to changes in mood, like the feeling of a teacher holding your hand to write when you were in elementary school. The restless emotions are not intense because the music is calm, like a calm lake.

Lately, I have been laughing from time to time, or feeling a bit melancholic, or remembering some people, things, or capturing emotions that once existed.

I once read a book that I found beautiful, that's all. A friend (A) later mentioned it, saying that the book was very popular and trendy, but very few people understood it. The book described a person who realized they were a strange person from birth to death. Writing this, I suddenly felt that stories are really so touching, just a few pieces of paper, yet they make people constantly look back and reveal their emotions. He told me that this book was one of his favorites, but he didn't talk about it with others because they wouldn't understand.

I once told A, "I don't know what you're thinking." People are like isolated islands, although we can never reach each other, I want to know what it's like on your side. I've forgotten how he responded, but clearly, later on, I did catch a glimpse of some of the scenery on his side.

Am I a strange person? When saying this, many people may think it's a bit self-important. But in reality, the instinct of the group suppresses this strangeness. Regardless of whether you are truly strange or not.

I still don't know if I'm strange, but one thing is certain, the more I think, the more I fall behind the crowd. And that book, ever since A pointed it out, I often think about it.

A finds it difficult to communicate with others, A likes to observe others. Once, when discussing group issues, I said that someone like you, even if someone is with you all day, is still not part of the group. We both laughed.

In fact, the characters in the book long to be like ordinary people, which hurts them deeply. They long for their own kind, but unfortunately, they are very special. And also, they are very good at acting, like A, they seem very normal. Whereas I belong to the kind with poor acting skills, unfortunately, my processor can't handle so many models, so I appear very strange, very much like a strange person, and it makes people feel proud.

Being strange doesn't need much explanation, it's just having fewer similar people around. Often, not fitting in. Less understanding, more random thoughts.

And that book is called "No Longer Human," written by Osamu Dazai.

Once, A and I were playing the same game, and A said, "You seem to be playing differently from me," and I said, "Of course." He said, "Most people would say we're playing the same game." If the book you read is different from mine, please understand 😁.