The confusion of the end shines into the sunshine on the other side, and only flowers bloom behind the thorns.
Is everything caused by fate a joke by Cupid or the drunkenness of the old man under the moon? Is it the pull of the painting "Sorrow" or the confused numbers in a hurry. Is a stranger's encounter an unintentional intersection or a destined entanglement? After a debate about love and redemption, can the heart remain firm and intact?
A love affair is over, but time and choices are floating around. Suffocating in the darkness and surviving, or is the brilliant light like a moth fleeting and then falling into the bottomless abyss? Behind the hand of light is the evil smile of an angel or the kindness of the devil? Everything that cannot be distinguished is that God drives the wheel of fate. If it is not his turn, will it be death, and if it is his turn, will it be life?
I am an ordinary woman, and I want to live an ordinary life. Maybe there are no poems, maybe there are no paintings, just trivial things like daily necessities, maybe there is no unforgettable commitment to this life, maybe there is no vigorous galloping to the west, only ordinary men, ordinary people who grow old... This is not a girl's dream, there is no prince riding a white horse. This is just the end of the glitz and vicissitudes of life. After experiencing it, the most beautiful thing is to return to the ordinary, An.