Is nostalgia a kind of talent? It reminds me of the beautiful past over and over again, giving me a soft and sentimental heart. It makes my world no longer only have cold characters. For me, every frame of the past recorded by my own hands is so precious and profound.
But I often lost my mind when I recalled the pain. I spoke without hesitation and insisted on grabbing it with all my strength, so I grabbed a sharp knife, which was more like a knife wrapped in silk. I could stab the tip of the knife into the misty rain, into the heavy snow, or even throw it directly on the ground. I could stab it anywhere. But I couldn't control it. Every knife was given to myself with my own hands.
I regret, I cry.
Intention: Pain follows you like a shadow