Like black clouds covering the sky, but the light does not disperse. Rays of light flowed from the gap between the skulls and fell into the world. The purple light and shadow were scattered, and at a glance, in the endless darkness, there were again endless purple rays of light.
This purple light is extremely restrained and distinct from darkness. Black can never penetrate a tiny bit of it, and it will never smudge the darkness.
Shuttle in the meantime, sometimes exposed to light, sometimes immersed in darkness, and between the apparent disappearance, giving people a feeling of changing time and changing stars.
The two tried to explore this space, and the original body appeared and disappeared from time to time by my side, as if it would dissipate at any time.
And on this day, the Linggai seemed like a dome far away in the sky. If they wanted to go there, the two really couldn't find a way. I can only measure the depth and breadth of this space step by step, trying to find a way out.
Violet light is like a spider web, dizzy, eyes sore after being in it for a long time.
The footsteps are light and silent, and without taking one more step, the weird feeling in my heart is going to be even more.
Finally, Haraji and my colleague stopped.
Each of them avoided the purple light shrouded in their bodies and stood in the dark to rest their eyes. "You feel it too?" I asked.
"Weird." He said, thinking about it, or saying, "Weird."
That's right, weird. If I were to find a word to describe this feeling, then I racked my brains, and the most concise and concise word that I can come up with is the word weird. Although it is too general, it is really only weird to describe this feeling.
The original body and I walked in this purple light like a jungle, like game characters with a poor network connection, and there seemed to be obvious delays in the actions.
When the brain thinks that I have lifted my right foot, my eyes see it only to lift the heel. The body and the brain are out of touch, and the message that the body feeds back to the brain is: the instruction has been completed. What the eyes see is: the instruction is being completed.
This weird feeling is lingering, and it makes people feel flustered. I always feel that it will not be a sign of a smooth wind.
"Okay." I sat down on the ground and stretched my legs to expose them to the purple light, while the upper body was hidden in the dark with my eyes closed and calm. "What's going on? Could it be the visual effect of light and shadow? delay."
The original body also sat down to rest, "or the propagation of light in this space is greatly delayed, causing the image of the object on the retina to be greatly delayed."
"So in fact, our body's feedback is still synchronized with the brain's instructions. It's just that the visual acceptance of the light is delayed. That's the problem with the purple light."
The original body groaned, "I also don't think I can be arbitrary, I still need to do an experiment."
This damn thing is a materialist.
I certainly agree, "This experiment can only be observed by myself, because the delay between the reception of body feedback and visual imaging is less than 0.5 seconds, and you can't figure out when my brain received the information."
In fact, it's very simple. My vision can't keep up with the body's movements, so I only need to repeatedly turn my head. When I have turned my head to the right side, my vision will still be the front right.
In this way, it can be proved that it is not a problem with the limbs, but a problem with the imaging of the eye. (End of this chapter)