I know so well that what the one says to me is correct.

None the less, I can never even like the one, far from it I hate the one.

Reasonably, probably I love the one's idea in some territory on my mind, but familiarly I just hate the one's idea.

And the emotion could never be wiped out from my mind. Because I'm never the Lord.

Rather according to the degree of the one's correctness, I hate the one more and more, otherwise that'd be the proof of the human of me unexceptionally.

Probably nobody is unlike the one. That's my cunning excuse to me, I know it so well.

None the less I cannot help but irresistibly hating that perfect correctness of him.

Necessarily, that must never be permitted in justifying, nevertheless that is at least to me so natural

And to it, I formally can know that I'm neither the Lord. 

Otherwise that never conquerable mind might have been the proof of human. Because to some extent, human thing could prefer to inhuman tasty thing so occasionally.

Correctly regarded ideas are never universally so appropriate, because human mind is anytime so emotional, and the reality is never reformed, though we should take the truth into account as some obliged premise.

Human's own intellectual or intelligent nature are never constantly persuasive because we are surviving carnally so severe shackled and caged reality.

And we have mutually never understandable many relationships so necessarily. No perfect ideal must be present in our society probably to everlastingly furthest future.

Rather mutually admitting these things as some obliged given reality, and we should dispose everything.

This very ambivalent reality's feature is never converted, because after all, no matter superior ones could consider any crisis solution, in conclusion, people's power must be very limited.

Rather, at the matter of fact, because we all to some extent know the truth so well from the beginning, we can enjoy happy somgs and have touched mind at listening to sad songs.

（Irregularly continued)

Dec. 6th.   2022