Chapter 463 (1/2)

If the heaven is sentimental, the day is old, and the moon is like no hate, and the moon is round.

Ivy felt a little bit clear.

At this point, it has surpassed 99% of people in the full dimension, or something else.

Creative thinking from scratch must be thanks to the existence of the high. Even if they only use their own brains to realize their wishes, it seems that luck has just opened its door and released some mysterious breath, which is immediately caught by the protagonist's sensitive nose.

Damn it! The noble taste is

A brand new way of dimensionality was presented to him. Even if the road was two millimeters thick, it only had pores as big as mung beans

Remove the difficulties and dangers, go forward all the way, and break through all difficulties and obstacles with the consciousness of the same fate!

The long road is just a routine. Ivy has to understand where he is? What can be persisted throughout the whole time dimension?

The frozen every minute and second, like a pale, overexposed photo, shines with light and is treasured in the deep memory. And myself, connected by one fragment after another, has continued to exist and stretched for a long time. More importantly, everything is faithfully recorded.

Mark.

Marked by the soul, it is only their own, unique existence.

Even God can't change all this.

……

Ivy is lost in time. He seems to be able to wander to the moment of his birth and the moment of his death Strangely, there's a break in the middle that forms two samples.

Is it really -

is oneself discontinuous?

It's just like that they can't be subdivided into the smallest part of each piece, just like they can't be subdivided to the smallest part of each piece.

Why not eat minced meat?

I can't do it, because they are so small that they can't be measured. What can't be measured (I'm not a thing) can be regarded as nonexistent What's that?

I don't know His own people, from head to toe, was a living man. All of a sudden, Schrodinger got up. He was unpredictable, uncertain, uncertain about life and death. Who could bear it?

That's no way. The rules of the world are like this. I'm afraid to think about it.

……

All kinds of fragmented ideas are full of Ivy's whole thinking organ. They have no connection, no order, no cause and effect, no logic It's so messy, so rotten and stinky, it's going to be worthless soon Unless, of course, he's really like a genius of genius - it's still a genius, and then he opens all kinds of hooks and glues them back together

Ivy didn't do this. In essence, he was a lazy man. These messages are no longer like Rubik's cube. They are not prepared for people at all

So he gave up After a long time, he thanks himself for giving up. Because he knew that this thing was called ”mind”.