一只蜜蜂让我脸红。这只被我用感官短暂捕捉并轻易写到纸上的蜜蜂,在很长时间里带给我类似于神经痛一样尖锐的惊悸。这倒完全不是说这只蜜蜂如何伤害了我,或者改变了我物质世界里的哪一部分,反回来说,我只看过几眼的这只蜜蜂,也并未被我伤害其身体的任何一个部位。这种不安得以成立的唯一原因,其实是我自己用不能成立的写作偷偷伤害了这只蜜蜂。这对于蜜蜂物 A bee makes me blush This bee, which I only briefly captured with the senses and easily wrote on paper, has given me, for a long time, a sharp horror similar to neuralgia. This is not to say at all how the bee harmed me or changed which part of my physical world it was. In retrospect, the bee, whom I had only glanced at, was not harmed by any of my body Site. The only reason why this uneasiness can be established is actually that I have personally hurt the bee with writing that can not be established. This is for bees