I think life is not perfect, and what I get is obtained at the same price.
Luck and misery complement each other, and life is valuable.
I am not God's beloved, I don't have an elegant and extraordinary temperament, and I don't have a sparkling family.
I'm just an ordinary person, but my life is anything but ordinary.
I told myself that the happiness I have now will one day pay the same price, but happiness seems to be slow. Maybe that day is still far away, maybe...
It has been lurking somewhere for a long time, waiting for the fatal moment when it breaks out of the cage...