When I was young, he always said: "Son, you have to brave."
"Brave" seems to
be a spiritual medicine, chew, swallow, can be used to deal with the shadows on
the curtains at night in trembling laugh; can be used to deal with summer
leisurely fall from the sky that is called "the hanged ghosts" budworm; can be
used to deal with winter early in the morning had to leave the bed that moment
stuck to the human blood go cold; can be used against those who cause me any
trouble, and forced me to tall children; can be used against those terrifying
teacher their mouths, and, insignificant to announce, solemn criteria of this
world.
But I still did not want to understand why I never do not hate those
things I fear, but I so resent the "brave". Perhaps because of "fear" is too
strong, so I had selected between one punches either to pinch; may also be
because of "fear" from my body, completely belong to me, "brave" is an intruder,
I said I have to chew it and swallow it bitter.
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