I Created the Myth of the Old Ruler

The lights came on after the show, but the cinema seemed a little noisy.

"What kind of movie is this? What was it made of?"

"I don't understand what I mean, I don't understand it at all!"

"I thought it was quite touching, and I almost cried in the middle."

"Anyway, the ending seems okay."

"I haven't seen enough, why did it end like this?"

"I feel like the director has suffered some kind of psychological trauma. How could he produce such a plot?"

"I feel like I can make this movie and I can act in it."

"It's a bit of a waste of ticket money. I'll have to read the reviews before buying tickets next time."

"I thought it was a bit exciting at first, but I didn't expect it to end like this. It's hard to evaluate."

"Does the director have any other works? I'm a bit interested."

The cast list is still rolling, and the audience is already noisy, talking about their feelings about the movie.

He sat in the audience and did not get up immediately.

The movie just now, how should I put it, although there are many plots in the middle that I couldn't understand, the way of expression and the performances of the characters always made him feel moved inside.

If a work can touch people's hearts, it is considered a basic success.

As a creator, he has such thoughts.

The people around him urged him to get up. They were a couple, and they seemed to be in a hurry to get ready for the next party.

He politely stepped out of the way and followed the crowd out of the cinema, still replaying the plot of the movie in his mind.

After separating from his wife, he was often troubled by a strong melancholy. When he was young, he suffered from mental illness and even failed to complete his studies. Fortunately, his later life gradually cured these pains and made him happy. Able to focus on creation.

However, such emotions were regained along with some quarrels, chaos, and betrayal. In recent days, he often suffered from insomnia at night and was troubled by nightmares.

In those weird and strange dreams, certain things that were difficult to describe in words affected his consciousness. He saw many wonders, magnificent worlds, bizarre and exotic landscapes that he had never seen before, and he also dreamed of some wonderful things. The journey, the exploring humanity, the crazy things.

And all of this, inspired by this seemingly inexplicable movie, made it difficult for him to contain his imagination.

Walking down the street, everything seems extremely new.

The war has ended, but people's lives have not become better. Economic recession and collapse have made it increasingly difficult for civilians. But at a higher level, those new technologies have made everyone full of hope, as if the world will become a better place as a result. good.

He was walking on these familiar yet unfamiliar streets. This port city had been quite prosperous when he was a child. Nowadays, there are many steel ships at the docks. Those ships with dark smoke coming out of their chimneys are sailing into the distance, bringing... Whether it is hope or disaster, no one knows.

However, in his eyes, such a dull and depressing, unknown and indifferent world has changed its appearance.

Will that cold white ship encounter a green temple rising from the bottom of the sea on the sea? When the stars return to their positions, will there be calls from ancient times echoing in the dreams of strangers?

In the shadow that transcends time in the alleyway, is there a ferocious beast watching covetously? Whenever the dark night falls, who will the thin murmur dance with under the moonlight.

Is there an indescribable alien god hidden among the ordinary pedestrians? The lurking fear comes from outside, and colors from the starry sky fall on the faces of these people.

Countless fantasies blossomed, bloomed, and exploded like fireworks in his mind. For ordinary people, such a mental state could hardly be called sound.

He stumbled a bit and bumped into many people along the way, attracting some eye rolls and curses. He looked like a drunken tramp.

Returning to his deserted home, he took off his hat and suit and came to his desk.

Picking up the pen, he randomly took out a piece of paper and began to record his newly born dream monster on it.

"The human mind cannot relate known things to one another, and I think that is the kindest thing in the world. We live on a peaceful island called ignorance, and around it is the vast darkness ocean, but that doesn’t mean we should sail across the ocean…”

His pen is very fast, but it still cannot keep up with the speed of his thinking. While paying attention to grammar and technical presentation, his thoughts have flown to the outside of the universe, among the stars, into the distant, eternal, and deep void. On top of the deserted, grand and majestic palace.

Unconsciously, time passed, and when the sun set, he finally stopped writing and breathed a long sigh of relief, as if he had just gotten rid of the messy and trivial things in his mind that tortured his mind through writing.

He was a little tired and his forehead was covered with sweat. He put down the pen and wanted to finish the work and rest for a while.

At this time, a flute sounded.

This was not a common flute, but rather like some novel instrument from the East. Once in New York, he had heard some street performers play it, and he thought it was an extremely cheerful instrument.

But now, the music sounds sad and melancholy. Although it is high-pitched, it still cannot hide the sadness in it.

He listened carefully, and he didn't know how long it took until the moonlight shone in from the window and fell on the words on the manuscript paper, showing a blurred luster.

Picking up the pen, he had some new ideas, just in time to continue writing the story.

A few days later, still troubled by nightmares and vague murmurs, he finally completed this piece. The entire creative experience was so satisfying that even during the writing period, his sleep quality improved a lot.

After reviewing his story again, he felt quite satisfied, but before that, he felt it was necessary to listen to the advice of his friends.

After asking someone to copy the manuscript, he took out the envelope, folded the copy properly, and stuffed it into it. He took out another piece of manuscript paper, flattened it, and began to write a letter with elegant and regular handwriting.

"Dear friend, as you know, I have been troubled by insomnia and nightmares recently. These trivial things are tormenting my mind and making me unable to calm down. I followed your suggestion and watched some recent popular movies. I have to say, this It gave me some clever inspirations, which I incorporated into the story, and I wrote a pretty good one, enclosed with the letter..."

"...As mentioned above, I am going to submit this article, hoping to get some royalties to support my life. I don't have many advantages as a person, and I can only write some words for people's entertainment. If you have any criticism, Please reply as soon as possible and don’t worry about hurting me.”

After writing the letter, he thought about it again and then signed it at the end.

"...your faithful friend, .Lovecraft."

*

Complete book