First of all I should state that writing in english is not to show my english skills, I just feel it’s better to tell my feelings in another language ,also for sake of security consideration.

   Sometimes virious kinds of nosence things force me to stop thinking deep. That’s sick. But I can’t help.

   Once I saw a movie named “Half Light”. The movie itself was not so thrilling , I have even forget what it told, all I remember is what the protagonist said: “ Maybe the dead miss us more that we do.” This senstence build on the premise that the dead really exist, lonely and isolated.In the past I was suspicious that I  suffered  light Depression, cause I have thought of suicide, which was once described as man’s basic instinct. I don’t care what level if sarrow it brought about, but fear frightened me: I will be so lonely so helpless in another world. Men always regard they suffer most when their lovers dead, but I am in the opinion the dead need our sympathy more than we do. Solitude is poison. That helps to explain why even if intrepidress people are scared of losing their lives. The dread is not the sense when blade cut deep in their flesh, but the darkness solitude. That drives me abandon the flashy thought of killing myselves. That’s really terrible.