People often compare life to a big dream. Those stages and lights where imagination and reality are intertwined are as unreal as dreams. Some things will never come back if you miss them, but you still want to lick the bitter medicine wrapped in thick sugar coating over and over again. Everything I have just experienced is like a full and fragrant fruit. As time passes slowly, mildew spots appear on the peel, the outer skin becomes decadent and shrinks downwards, and the dry and flat pulp cannot squeeze out the water. In the end, only the hard shell is left, which becomes dark and fragile due to weathering and eventually turns into powder and disappears into ashes. It seems that it has never existed before. Those longing dreams and trivial things slowly recede as they turn into sweet smiles on people's lips. Like butterfly wings covered with golden powder, it blurs in front of the eyes and then drifts away.