\Although I knew I would cry, when that intense feeling seems to hit my chest instantly and truly, in the darkness, tears are warm.
Even though my heart is tearing apart, and the little person inside me is teetering, even though, the flood-like sadness makes it hard to breathe,
but when I think of that face flashing in my mind, clearly lonely but still forcing a smile, this kind of sadness seems to transform into a silent concern for another person.
Hai Zi's poem says: 'One must have the simplest life and the most distant dreams, even if tomorrow, the sky is cold, the ground frozen, and the horse lost along the way.'
But why is my dream so thin?
At 19, I began to have the purest reverence, the deepest gratitude, and the most distant fantasies for another life. I did not want a trace of impurity, willing to shed all my tears for it.
But this is clearly the wrong time. The stormy reality no longer spares such fragile and unrealistic dreams; emotions as fleeting as a romantic affair cannot withstand even a little wind.
So, like a startled bird, I always scare myself, collapsing at the slightest rustle.
I don't know how to be a moth, and I dare not touch love lightly.
We have always been racing against time.
Before the apocalypse comes, we strive to enjoy the remaining joys, communicating with our eyes in these unreal moments.
If the carefreely squandered moments of my life could give you a little, it would be wonderful to share some of the world's helplessness and pain with you.
But there is no 'if,' just like wild geese will eventually fly south, and dandelions cannot escape the urging of the wind.
Life does not have that much beauty; life has too much unfairness. I am actually cruelly fortunate. Even if I am always alone, at least I can still act freely according to my will.
I probably have had too much luck.
What I have lost is life.
I won't get you. So, I will quietly stay beside you. It's my dream of happiness.
Even if the weather is bitterly cold, the roads are long, and the horses have died
Replies (10)
So, this is your reason for 'being artistic three times a day'? Oh... damn, it's so hard to explain, half-alive is the most painful.
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