I've always wanted to wander, but the thought of trudging along with all my worldly possessions fills me with dread.
The truth is, I know I'm not attached to these things. It's just that a comfortable life can easily lull you into complacency, like poppies numbing your nerves.
I know I'll regret it when I'm old. Putting my hopes in the next life is just like my past self putting my hopes in this one.
So I'll shamelessly find someone to do what I can't, or more accurately, what I don't have the courage to do.
Wandering is just a symbol. What I'm really giving up is a youthful, headstrong dream.
I admit I'm a coward. But who among us isn't ordinary?
Completely different writing style~~~~I think the author is also a person with many sides~~~~Come on, I like you very much and will follow you one by one