[Zhongyingmei] The clown is actually me

Jack knew he was dreaming.

He needs to rest—no matter how urgent the situation is,? He also has to work and rest normally, and can't stay up late.It is necessary to maintain more than eight hours of sleep every day, and to consume enough carbohydrates to maintain basic life activities.So after coming out of the cafe, seeing that it was getting late, Jason took him home, gave him a cup of sleeping milk, and then went to bed.

Jack knew he was dreaming because he saw his mother.

In a milky white light, everything else in the world does not exist, only the young him and the corpse on the ground.

The ghost of an adult Jack stands aside. He lowers his head. His dead mother is lying in a pool of blood. She seems to be alive. Her long and thick eyelashes are curving like seaweed, and her fluffy curly hair is loose. Come,? Snow-white skin glows like pearls, flowers are scattered around her gorgeous skirt, and the afternoon light shines on the sapphire blue velvet dress, suddenly there is a Renaissance oil painting-like texture.Jack understood why the artist took her to be his mistress, and when his mother didn't move, there seemed to be a muse in the brow.

He saw that Little Jack had no expression, like wearing a mask, only frowned when he wiped his nosebleed with his sleeve, and hissed in pain.Soon the momentary collapse melted away,? From beginning to end,? That young and frightening face? There was no panic or fear. Instead, it showed a kind of calmness that is rarely seen in adults,? It was close to indifference.He threw ribbons and flowers around the corpse, as if he was displeased with his useless sense of aesthetics and ritual. He opened the bottle warmer a little roughly, and soon, black smoke came out from the carpet covering the bottle warmer.He walked to the door, looked back at his mother's body, and said in the tone of a child saying goodbye to his mother, "Good night, Mom."

"Good night." Jack whispered.

Why are you dreaming about this again?thought Jack.He hadn't dreamed of his mother and Jenny for a long, long time since he came back from the world of injustice.

And the clown, he hadn't heard him nagging in his ear for a while.

Could it be because he rejected the Joker?

Jack suddenly realized this problem. Before, he denied and suspected the clown, but he never explicitly rejected him.There is a secret dependence on the clown deep in his heart, so his consciousness is never fortified against the clown, who can come in and out at will, and browse freely.Now that he was finally completely quiet, Jack realized that what the clown once said "you have the power to reject me" was not lying.At the same time, he had a very bad premonition that what the clown said was becoming true one by one. If the clown had never deceived himself, what should he do?

...Loving you only makes me miserable.

I should not approve of you, should not miss you, should not need you, should not love you.

You don't have any difficulties, you are just a devil full of evil, talking about criminal philosophies that you don't believe in yourself, and sending others to die without any guilt.You say you deceive me, despise me, fool me, regard me as superficial, contemptible, weak, and empty, and while you laugh at my moral sense in your heart, you say love to me affectionately, you just want to take advantage of me I just achieved my goal.You made me love you, miss you, need you, depend on you...you made me bring you back.

It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be like this between us.The world would be better without you, and so would I.I'm different from you, I've been like this from the beginning, I'm supposed to be... like this.

Jack couldn't think about it anymore, he controlled himself and opened his eyes.The hands of the clock on the wall point to 2, which means it is two o'clock in the morning.He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again tonight.

He slowly sat up from the bed, turned off the light, walked to the toilet, and looked at his face in the mirror.He was sure he saw a pale, haggard, tired man, and every bone in him was heavy with exhaustion, so heavy it nearly crushed him.Even when he was seriously ill, he had never been so sluggish, his thinking was stagnant, and he had no aggressiveness. Like a toothless old lady, he only knew to live on gruel every day.He tried hard to recall himself a year ago, and even felt a sense of confusion. The energetic, energetic and somewhat crazy soul in his memory was like him, but not like him. In the end, he was completely strange, like a person. Totally irrelevant people the same.

Is that me?

Jack stared hard at the mirror, and at this very moment, he felt old.He is like an old man suffering from Haimerz's disease, dreaming hazy dreams all day long, in which his young self runs wildly, but when he wakes up, he is lying on the rocking chair, with a strong smell of death from head to toe. gas.

Depression really sucks.thought Jack.

Depression does not make people cry and want to commit suicide all the time. It is a kind of loss, a kind of decay, and a kind of exhaustion that is profound to the extreme.

Loss of expression first, then unwillingness to speak, loss of interest in communication.The thought of opening my mouth and speaking was painful.Muscles and muscles are gradually withering, and soul is slowly condensing, as if the heart is no longer beating, everything in the world makes him uninterested, his concentration and memory are getting slower and slower, he is so tired that he has nothing to do, but he is lying on the bed standing still. I can't get up, and sometimes I can't even hold a spoon steadily.He gradually stopped thinking, and only pursued superficial visual stimulation, but blindfolded and refused to think about deep-seated things.As time passed, even that bit of sensory stimulation couldn't make him move.He hated hearing sound, any sound, even the wind blowing.He suffered from insomnia night after night, lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling, everything was meaningless, and he even lost the ability to look forward.The whole person seemed to be sinking in the quagmire, watching himself being swallowed up by the pathological weakness bit by bit, but he was helpless.

The most desperate thing about depression is that it forces people to admit that their soul is empty, dry, boring, worthless, and not worth cherishing.It is neither a saint, nor a scholar, nor is it an important leader. It does not store knowledge at the forefront of science, and it does not have hard-to-train skills. It is full of mediocre views of capitalism and the humble mentality of the broad middle class. Fooled by unsubstantiated anti-intellectual opinions and entertained by sleazy color jokes.

It is neither noble nor beautiful, but rather vulgar... It would be too harsh for others to go through thousands of mountains and rivers, pass all the way, and the prize is only such a boring soul.

Jack never thought that melancholy was more deadly than madness.It's like some kind of metaphor, people who have endured big winds and waves, mountains of swords and seas of fire may not have survived long nights, biting their bodies and minds.

He stood in the bathroom for a while, put on his foundation, put on a wig and colored contact lenses, and staggered out the door. Jason was not at home, and he must have gone out to investigate the murder in the dark.The dishes in the refrigerator were all cold, and he was too lazy to warm them up, so he simply came to the underground garage, intending to drive to the nearest 24-hour store to buy some cheese and radishes.

In fact, he didn't really want to eat, but mainly wanted to hear people's voices.Lying on the bed alone and waiting for dawn, it's too easy to get stuck, so it's better to go out and relax.

The owner of the 24-hour shop is a kind-hearted middle-aged woman who is good at making seaweed soup.Jack asked for a bowl, held it in his hand and sipped it. After finishing drinking, he stroked his wet hair, took the raincoat from the shelf, and handed it to the boss. After he went out, he realized that there was sleet, and he was momentarily dull. Forgot to bring a raincoat out.The boss took the raincoat and scanned the barcode of the product, and said casually, "Sir, be careful when you go back, there are robbers moving around here recently."

"Robbers?"

"It's not the kind of serial robbers. It's just a group of idle hooligans. Two days ago, I heard that a girl was victimized. For a bag, I stabbed the girl three times. The victim went directly to the hospital and is still lying in the ICU now." .”

"The police don't care?" Jack frowned.

"Of course, they used to patrol, but recently the police station seems to be doing something. The old homicide case is too busy to deal with the robbery. Besides, there are too few clues left, and nothing is captured by surveillance, unless Wait for that girl to wake up." The boss said casually, and handed him the raincoat and other sundries in a bag.

Jack's heart sank as he walked out of the store.

At that time, there must have been a cold snake slipping into the spine.

He felt the clown waking up inside him, but the clown didn't wake up, there was no sound in his ears, it was only himself who woke up, a tyrannical, cold, unsympathetic Jack with a stone heart, takes great pleasure in hurting others.As if the devil's string was pulled again, Jack put on his raincoat like a bewilderment, and walked forward, step by step, hiding in the unlit alley, until the blackness completely enveloped him.It is early morning, everything is so quiet, it seems that only the stronger and stronger heartbeat is left.The heartbeat was getting louder and louder, like an electric guitar with a broken string, making Jack wonder if it would pop out of his chest.

He reached into his pocket and found something cold and hard at the corner.For a moment, the heartbeat stopped, and everything returned to silence.

letter opener.

In the silence of the world, there was only one thought in Jack's mind: when Batman first put on the bat costume like a costume and went to Gotham to fight for justice, did he feel the same way?

No, it's not like Batman, I don't believe in the law, I'm not driven by a ridiculous sense of justice, and I don't fly around Gotham as a vigilante thinking I can save the city.I'm not standing here for anything, not to protect the girl who came home late, not like this.I didn't want to kill people. I knew the structure of the human body very well, and I knew where the vital points were. I would carefully avoid them. At most, I would break bones and make the other party permanently disabled.Anyway, the robbers deserved it.I just……

...just wanted to vent.

Because it was really, really hard.It's like a drowning person, desperately grabbing everything he can grab to climb up, even if he knows he's stepping on his mother's body, he still has to surface to breathe air.

Jack turned on the recorder, and in the cold wind howling on the street in the early morning, he lowered his voice and said, "I don't want to beautify anything, I just want to say that if I don't do this, I will definitely go crazy. There is no need to talk about forgiveness or not... I'm guilty, bat. I'm guilty."