Keep walking, growing unscrupulously like a weed, and growing, but after growing up, it is still an inconspicuous grass. There will be a sense of pity for growing up, and a lingering sadness when a person loses the value of survival.
I finally struggled in pain until thick dust and silt accumulated in the track of time. Only when the secular world has become accustomed to it, youth disappears.
The beginning of youth is always extremely bright, but at the end of youth, those gorgeous and radiant colors are followed by a kind of confused decadence, until life begins to pale, leaving some unreasonable despair.
Maybe life is just such a process, keep walking, keep hurting, then despair, and then walk in pain again.
Eternal disaster. Reincarnation.