This story is half true and half fictional. It is me and not me.
This is just an expectation or reflection.
What has happened, what is happening, what will happen,
All will be deeply engraved in memory.
I'm looping a song.
"Tightrope Walker" makes people's hearts sway.
I was in the valley, and the breeze was blowing my hair, bringing the smell of moist moss.
I live and work unswervingly.
I also believed that I would love someone firmly.
But I stumble, sway, backslide, and stagnate.
Never stopped wandering with the breeze.