Our original dreams are always polished into reality through missed opportunities and various trivial matters. Round but unrecognizable, like pebbles on the bottom of a river. Depressed, dull, lackluster.
I'm afraid that one day, after walking for too long, we will forget the reason why we set out.
The only thing that can be done is to move forward.
Even if you are helpless, you must move forward numbly.