Life is the process of collision and handover between the inner world and the real world. Sometimes it is joyful, sometimes it is tragic, you get what you want or you are broken into pieces... All the twists and turns will have a simple direction, and the contradictions will eventually be resolved. No matter how dramatic the story is, it will become dull, and no matter how severe the heartache is, it will be as indifferent as no trace. Love is just a kind of human experience. The dust settles, one after another, passing each other ~ love and hate disappear, after all, they should still be passers-by...¬
¬Those things in the past were naturally diluted by more things that followed, blurring the boundaries between pleasure and sadness. Those pleasures eventually became sad in retrospect because they were too short-lived, while those sadnesses turned into happy experiences in memories because they were unforgettable... Everything has been mixed into inarticulate thoughts like the foggy frost on the glass windows in late winter~¬