I slowly opened my eyes to a strange and cramped place. I seem to be locked in here.
My mind is now a jumbled mess, my memories are a bit jumbled and fuzzy, and I can't tell if it's unreal or real.
When I slowed down I realized that I was on a very small bed with a high wooden guardrail next to it. I was wrapped so tightly that only my head could turn.
But I couldn't actually control this body. This isn't my body... It's a baby... I'm obviously a fancy boy.
Next to me on the big bed was a woman with a rather pale face, but looking very happy. It should be the mother of this child. She has big, bright eyes.
And what the hell am I?
The vision disappeared, and it was as if I had entered this baby's consciousness, which was dark, but with a small beam of light dangling in front of me.
This light, I always felt like it had a vitality to it. It was still growing, and I could feel its consciousness.
But I suddenly realized that I had no such vitality of life, and that I seemed to be dead.
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How did I die? Recollection does not come to mind. How I came to be in this little baby's body, I don't know. It wasn't reincarnation either, I had absolutely no control over this body. I can only accept his consciousness and vision. It was like watching a movie.
Maybe that's true? People come to a new life to continue living after death?
What was my original life like? I have also somewhat forgotten, but vaguely remember that there were friends, there was family. Those images are like soaked old photos, you can only slightly see the blurred silhouettes.
I don't know, but it will come back slowly.
This stage is boring, the little baby just sleeps all day long. It didn't help that I was walking around in his darkened consciousness. The spot of light stops there and only moves when he wakes up.
I tried to remember too. But the brain really felt tired and panic, so I just slept together and counted.
A day's sleep is a small matter for me, but when he woke up, he would see several big faces around him, staring. While he had little awareness, I would be scared half to death. Who wouldn't panic when you wake up to find several people staring at you and giggling. The next thing you know, you're being held in the arms of these adults in turn, all kinds of teasing, a pinch in the face, a wiggle in the arms, and a careful distinction between which looks like a mom and which looks like a dad.
Sometimes, they just ate leeks and garlic, ran over to hug the baby, can also be said to be me, make out. The smell, the little baby immediately howled.
This small child, occasionally give some good face, giggle a few times, those adults like the national football team out of the line, cheering.
I can't take it anymore. Please guys, put the little baby down, you are torturing two people...
You think babies don't have any consciousness? Wrong, while you're teasing him, the guys living in his head, like me, have already despised you a million times over.
In these contempt, I live in his body indirectly a lot of days, the full moon wine is also done, diapers are more and more through the feel comfortable. Slowly I got used to, every day to be coaxed the day, although some compartmentalization, but at least, I can feel that this is a beautiful family. There is a childish father, gentle mother, earthy cute grandmother, read every day to maintain the grandfather, like to raise the dog's grandfather, square dance leader grandmother...
Every day around me, face full of smiles.
Suddenly, the heart is a little bleak.
Always, this is his home. I have died. Just a bystander.
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The point of light became more and more active and bigger and bigger. The guy grew quite a bit too.
After walking blindly in the walker for a while, he finally learned to walk on his own. But when he fell down, he had to cry for a long time, and I couldn't get any peace and quiet.
He also made some sounds, babbling, either hungry or peeing. I can't go through the day wondering what a baby is thinking, can I? Sometimes he'll be put on the couch, and he'll stay awake for half a day, eyes bulging, head tilted to the left and then to the right, while I listen to the grown-ups chattering away.
These adults are very forward thinking, the kindergarten has been found, the elementary school near the new one to be built. Then said some work problems, especially his father, the last month business problems. The two families will also quarrel from time to time.
This noise, the little guy seems to sense, wow straight cry, mom rushed over, hold up coaxing, his father also closed his mouth. After a while they both stared at their son smiling, calmly talk for a long time.
Both the future expectations, or worries. Especially for this child, expect to grow up, expect to understand. People always expect a good future.
Mom bought a lot of books, how to educate, preschool education, child psychology and so on. The first thing you need to do is to read these books, and you will be able to see the results.
When the little guy woke up, she held, turned around in the house, went to the balcony to see the potted plants, sunshine, looking at the street, stretching out his little hand.
Mom looked happy and labored, worried about the future and happy for the moment. Her bright eyes were glistening with tears.
Everyone carries it over.
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The family is not very rich, due to the mother to take the child, has always been the father to go out to earn money.
The little one does not understand, eat a lot, use expensive. Mom and Dad have time for dinner is a plate of greens and a plate of taro silk, the child ate or imported milk powder.
There is no way out, due to pregnancy, mom has resigned from the previous job, now have to go to find a new one. The family's income can only be sustained if both of them work.
The child was sent to his grandmother's house. The grandmother's family lives on the outskirts of the city, in the countryside.
The child can walk on his own, and he often runs around the house, and sometimes Grandma can't even catch up with him.
Grandma would take a carrier, put me on my back and take me to the market. As she walked, she would recite, "Be thankful, know how you came to be, and how you are going to be in the future...".
Alas, I was tired of listening. Only to sleep over.
This kid is not small, a person wobbly run out of the yard, let Grandma find half a day. The next door of the yellow dog slipped in, towards his woof woof straight barking, directly scared to cry. The first time I saw this, I was able to see the woman's face, and I was able to see the woman's face, and I was able to see the woman's face, and I was able to see the woman's face.
During the holidays, mom and dad would come here to see the little guy. The house was bustling with activity. Every time they came, they would bring some small toys and some supplements.
As time went by, I could probably count the days. When will they come and when will they go? Time passed in this back and forth. His consciousness was becoming more and more active, and my memories were slowly returning.
Those fuzzy photos are being slowly washed away by the flowing water of time, and some memories, fragmented, are being assembled by me hard, like going to and from school with my classmates, and I walk behind them, wanting to make a sneak attack. And parents at the dinner table, discussing school life.
Having lived in this child consciousness for so long, and feeling some of the warmth of family. So... What about my family? How did I die? I do hope my family isn't too upset, I'm living quite a life here every day now.
However, as this child's consciousness became more and more active, my own existence seemed to diminish.
I suddenly remembered, those bright eyes.
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The boy is getting skinnier and skinnier. The child will say some words, and will take things on their own, often go to climb the cabinet to steal the snacks placed on it, and when it is not satisfied, it will make the bitter, simply to overturn the house.
Bad thoughts came out this way. Not satisfied with the cry, Grandma drowning ah, can be spoiled, every day to cook his favorite things to eat, a little bit of some dissatisfaction, hastily shaking his head, hard not to eat.
Grandpa is a quick-tempered, come up to yell at him two voices, the child was immediately scared to cry. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty.
In addition to being a picky eater, he also likes to watch cartoons. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good look at the movie, but I'm sure you're going to be able to get a good look at the movie. The life of a child is so boring, I simply have to be driven crazy by those childish movies. Now again want to summon grandpa to roar a couple of times.
Of course, this child is certainly getting more and more skinny. When the home a mess, grandpa's books are torn. The first time I saw this, I was able to get the ball rolling, and I was able to get the ball rolling, and I was able to get the ball rolling.
Haha, I belong to the good show. I'm not the one who scolded anyway.
The parents really came, that night, with a big bag of things. Mom looked more labored than before, but still as gentle as ever.
She held my hand and told stories and reasoned, in a language a child could understand.
Her eyes are still as bright as ever.
Full of life.
Fell me into memory.
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I sat in front of my hospital bed, the curtains drawn to death. I could feel that my life was about to fade away. No one cared about me.
What has life brought me. The answer now is only endless pain.
I don't have a good family. The last time I had dinner, the three of us were sitting in different corners, and before we had eaten much, we started to argue.
I don't follow anyone, and they won't want it. Since the family broke up, I am just a superfluous outsider words, then I live by myself.
My father cared about money, my mother cared about profit, and the arguments and conflicts tore my family apart.
I'm not even biological.
I was like an outsider, and the conflicts all seemed to be because of me. When each went their own way, I chose to run away.
I sank into the pain myself, wanting to die but afraid of the darkness after death.
I don't have any friends. Those who talk about it, take my pain as a life paragraph, and even in front of me laughing. What can I do? I'm not sure what I'm going to do about it.
Sometimes I would walk behind them, with a knife in my pocket, wanting to rush up and slit their throats, but only in my mind.
Every day was so depressing. When I realized that I was getting weaker and weaker, I had a premonition that I had a disease, a disease that would kill me.
How to put it, it was just what I wanted. I was hospitalized, my parents heard of the disease, and did not have that kind of worry, at best, spend money on me to find a nanny to send meals, and occasionally come over to see, the words do not say more than a couple of sentences. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm sure I'll be able to do it.
If you are suffering from a terminal illness, I just want to wait for death. The ward is very good, only I am a person. A person is the most happy, I do not want to go to other wards to spy on other families, those happy and united family, together to fight the disease.
It was like a play.
The pain I fear the most is what I don't have, but what is often found in the world.
When I was in despair, just counting the days every day, when to die, I was in the hospital and saw something.
I didn't know what came over me that day, I walked out of the hospital room. At that time, the body is still good, consciousness is still clear, suddenly also have the leisure to want to walk.
The corridors of the hospital are full of patients at night. They sleep in the corridor, hanging saline, family members sitting next to a small bench, half of the body flopped on the bed. Nurses door pushing a cart, from time to time to console and change the medicine.
At that moment, a few doctors panicked and carted by, with bottles of medicine clinking on them. They rushed into the ward, and there was a girl, much younger than me, lying there weakly, the doctors doing first aid on her, the family kneeling helplessly, trembling and crying.
The air in the ward seemed to freeze, and everyone held their breath. The doctor's hand movements also slowed down, the instrument's beeping piercingly loud.
One last time.
A shake of the head.
So much for a young life.
I was outside my hospital room, and suddenly something was touched. Outside my hospital room, there were countless people who were in pain. Lives were fading away every day. And I was dealing with such fading. Stretched out in a misshapen space and time, and then taken out of this world.
How exactly do they face it?
I just feel that life is fragile, that everyone suffers, that some die, some go on living, back and forth, the world rotates.
I, on the other hand, left behind pain and despair, and since I'm still on earth, I have to face it. The pain is only part of it, facing the pain is the whole thing.
The girl lying in the hospital bed, thin, her eyes closed, her family beside the silent crying. Said: She did her best.
The ending was already set, but still try to live.
Life fades and continues.
I also felt my soul flying away. In the end, I still didn't figure out life and living.
But I decided anyway.
I may be depressed in spirit, but some organs are still good, right? Donate them.
It still has some meaning. Even though life tortures me, it goes on. I can't go on, but I might be able to give someone else a fresh start.
Fading, and reincarnation.
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She was, therefore, restored to the light. That's why her eyes are so bright and moving. I gave her a new life, and this child, is the new hope.
I died alone. There was no family, no friends.
Originally life is diverse, you can not control, you can only accept. Life is passing, it is also in the cycle. I feel the future in this child's short life light. The future will be hard, and please treat this child well in life. He has a wonderful family and I hope it stays that way and grows well.
I felt my presence diminishing and I seemed to be disappearing from this little guy's mind.
Where will it go next? I don't know anymore, it doesn't matter.
Seriously, everyone always has that distant memory in their head of a vague figure, like a longtime friend. But there's no memory, no shape, you just have that feeling.
That's probably what a life sends after it passes. From the initial reflection, and finally their own understanding of life.
That point of light became more and more active, and finally took on the human form of that child, where he stammered and couldn't speak. The rest of the world is for you to feel for yourself.
I felt it too, family I guess. But maybe in the beginning, what I got, was the same kind of love.
Life is just another continuation.
[The picture was blindly matched. I'd like to thank all of you who have seen this, this is a miserable high school student, there are still a lot of shortcomings, please teach me more... Also hope to have the opportunity to collaborate or something
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