Today is only Tuesday, and there are still three days to go. Time passes like this day after day, week after week.
I think of Sanmao's words: I really don't know if the butterfly is dreaming of me, or if I am dreaming of the butterfly. It's upside down, and half my life has passed like this.
I think so much during the day, and it seems I will have insomnia again tonight.
Conception: