I was careless. I was exposed to the spring merry.
I soared like a plastic bag and turned into dust like cedar pollen.
Well, I'm not sure, but for example.
What would happen to this consciousness of me if a field warrior suddenly appeared, pulled out a sword, and slashed me in half from the heavens without asking questions?
Will the right half of me and the left half of me be separated from each other as others?
Then, on the contrary, if the consciousness of being others is combined, will it be united in the consciousness of one self?
How is it? It's hard to tell for me, who has become dusty.