Sometimes I feel like a rose, growing in the corner of the garden. No one sees my beauty, but I feel that I am so beautiful, just admiring it by myself. You think that I am a quiet orchid, which should only grow in the far-reaching solitary mountains, but I am just a rose, growing in the garden, not much better than a dodder flower. I just bloom like this, and I want people to appreciate me, but I have sharp thorns to guard against everyone around me. In the end, did I get what I wanted or not?